The tone is about to be lowered, along with your undies. This week Creaming Spires focuses on anal sex – the dirty (in both respects of the word) kind of fucking that divides the masses. But whether you love it or hate it, you have to try it at least once – if only to verify that you aren’t one of those girls whose G-spot is located up your chuff, in which case perhaps you’ll make a full conversion and start poo-pooing ‘normal’ sex.
Anal sex is what my girlfriends and I have always referred to as the ‘eight-month milestone’. Unless you are uber kinky and love taking it up the bum, in general, anal sex gets brought up in conversation around eight months into any heterosexual relationship. Eight months is around about the time when you have aced vaginal sex and feel sufficiently comfortable with your partner that should any mishaps arise as couple – such as those horror stories you hear of girls shitting the bed (quite literally) – you could laugh it off and give it another whack.
The trick to anal sex is two-fold: alcohol and copious amounts of lube (what ever you do, don’t be stingy). For any first-timer, the rumours are true – it will hurt, A LOT.
In hindsight, I wish I had prophelactically popped a couple of paracetamol; then perhaps I would speak more highly of anal sex. I tried to battle through the initial pain – stopping halfway to put a finger up my boyfriend’s bum so that he could relate to the pain. He had the audacity to complain at the pain of a spindly female forefinger, when I was having a six-inch (eight-inch if he is reading this) baton pummelled into me.
I certainly was not aroused by the whole experience, and without the build up to a climax, and the fact that I was in pain, my boyfriend wasn’t particularly a fan either.
The last helpful piece of advice I can offer is to ensure a clean and slow dismount – after all, no one wants a smeared duvet cover
