Anal play– many varieties of it — are a super sweet selection on the sex menu Mr. K and I share. It has been from the beginning of our relationship. Anal activities are like the two sides of a coin that he holds in his hand. On one side I’m dominant– I facesit him, smother him, and as he begs for it, I shove my fingers into his mouth after they’ve been inside of my ass. But when he flips that coin– and he always does –I’m incredibly submissive. I crave his hands around my throat, his presence in my thoughts, and “good girl” rolling from his tongue. I never really know which way the coin will land until he tosses it. Yes, he totally tops me from the bottom.
Because we desire ass play the way we do, I’ve always been diligent in making sure my butt cave is sparkling clean for anal adventures. Plus, I’m big-time OCD. My anal cleanliness has often astounded Mr. K, though. So much that he bows to it, worships it, and doesn’t hesitate to pluck my plug from my asshole with his mouth. It’s kind of like my superpower. But during a recent round of ass lovin’, he realized the taste on his tongue was suddenly amiss. It wasn’t the mildly tart flavor he dreamed about in between visits. It was scat, y’all.
“Um, baby, you’re not clean,” he said as he examined my asshole.
Horrified, I bolted upright on the bed with a million thoughts buzzing through my brain. How did it happen? WHY did it happen? I’d done everything I was supposed to do to make sure I was clean, everything I’d always done. But what really freaked me out was that Mr. K found me unclean with his MOUTH. I feared it would ruin his taste for anal play.
Embarrassed beyond belief, I wigged out. “What? But how can that be? I’m the Queen of Clean!”
He chuckled, gargled with mouthwash– twice, and washed his hands. “You were the Queen of Clean.”
Don’t misunderstand, I know the risks of coming into contact with butt stuff. I even wrote a about it, but until then, it had never happened to us. To be honest, I think I was far more upset about the anal derailment than Mr. K. For us, anal is intimacy in its purest form. It’s powerful, deeply felt, and even though the absence of it was noticed, the night was no less magical. The next morning he got down on his knees behind me, spread my cheeks, and flicked his tongue across my sensitive pucker. I wanted it desperately, but I panicked, afraid I wasn’t clean. He confessed he was worried too and refocused his attention to my pussy instead. It was the first time I’d held anything back from him and that alone was enough to send me into a tailspin.
In the days after, we talked and laughed about it, agreeing that one anal misadventure in two years wasn’t bad at all. I vowed I would do my best to make sure our next anal playtime would be a squeaky clean one. But the morning of his most recent visit, I woke to find I’d started my period and anxiety bloomed. It wasn’t the thought of Auntie Flo turning our sexy time into a threesome dynamic that made my stomach turn, it was the fact that anal cleansing is extra challenging during my period. I worried that anal ecstasy would once again be thwarted. I’m no quitter, though, and I persevered until I was in the clear. Although, I did tell Heather I may consider using an enema next time to make double sure I’m as clean as possible. Because I’m anal.
Still a little gunshy, I didn’t breathe easy until I heard the muffled sounds of Mr. K’s pleasure as he spread my cheeks open. Then all at once it seemed, my anal confidence returned in a rush, and I watched him in the mirror as he licked, fingered, and inhaled what he loved. The desire to feel him push into me while his skin pressed to mine was suddenly overwhelming and I begged him to fuck me, to take what was his. I needed it. We both did. And as he asked how much I’d missed Daddy’s cock deep inside my ass, he filled me with his come.
I snuggled up to Mr. K and turned on to my back to prevent butt germs from migrating to my vag, both of us feeling a sense of relief and somewhat giddy. He told me how amazing I was, joked that the Queen was back, and high-fived me for successful anal. I laughed and relaxed into his arms, realizing how silly I’d been about our little setback. Yes, it was embarrassing, but in the grand scheme of things it really was a minor incident. The simple truth is that regardless of how hard we try to control them, our bodies are fickle and tend to do whatever the fuck they want. And sometimes, shit just happens.
For more information on the do’s and don’ts of anal sex, read
