This is a blog post written in the style of a short story. A true story—about me!

My first anal!

I was an adult by then. Curious. Pretty nervous. And open-minded enough to push open a door behind which I would later learn a hell of a lot about pleasure, trust, and my own body.

This story can be told. So I’m telling it.

My First Time Anal: Eighteen, Inexperienced, and Pretty Uptight

I was eighteen. Sexually inexperienced. A little uptight too. Unlike my boyfriend at the time, I was anything but adventurous. I was happy if I could somehow manage to focus on the sex at all. Because back then, that was many times harder for me than it is today. I’m not entirely sure, but I think I had experienced barely a handful of orgasms by that point.

I don’t think my boyfriend was unhappy with me. After all, we had sex often. Despite my nervousness, I was frequently aroused. That must have been down to the urges of a young woman—urges strong enough to outshine her fears and worries. But he was the one who had to put in the effort to get what he needed.

So I was the stereotypical starfish: I lay there. Ready for anything, but relatively motionless. I opened myself to his manhood but contributed little more to the whole affair than providing my tightness.

His foreplay was always fantastic. Thorough and wet. His tongue work was pure poetry, and my clitoris was grateful for it. Sometimes, I managed to work myself up to giving him a blowjob, usually terrified that he would come too soon and shoot his load into my mouth. But he was sensible enough not to do that. So I did it as often as I could bring myself to.

From Starfish to Wildcat

At some point, my caution began to shift. My shyness gradually turned into genuine interest. Slowly—veeeery slowly—I became more confident. I understood that despite the flaws I saw in my appearance, I was desirable. That I didn’t need to hide. That my small breasts and generally very slender frame were nothing to be ashamed of. And the more I allowed myself to embrace those new thoughts, the better I became.

Eventually, I transformed from a starfish into a wildcat. Instead of lying there and breathing quietly, I purred and hissed whenever the moment called for it. I moved with him and learned that other positions had their own hot appeal. I learned how to ride. How to kneel. I switched between submissive and dominant depending on my mood. Sometimes, I took control. Other times, I let myself be guided.

But enough about that.

Let’s get to the back door.

An Evening on the (german) Reeperbahn

My boyfriend and I went to the Reeperbahn. Unlike on other weekends, we weren’t there to party in the clubs. Nope. After visiting Hamburg, we simply wanted to take a relaxed stroll along the noisy strip. Grab a bite to eat and then head home. Watch something on TV and go to bed.

Plans are one thing. Reality is something completely different.

Thanks to one particularly likable promoter, we stepped inside a sex shop. It was huge and spread across two spacious floors. And wow, the things we saw in there...

Porn, lingerie, toys, fetishes, cages, gallows, crosses, masks—and yes, things people stuck up their asses. It was a world I had never encountered before. My boyfriend was absolutely thrilled. With a wink, he held anal plugs in front of my face. Showed me beads, gels, dildos with progressively larger diameters, and enemas. The gleam in his eyes told me that he would have loved to try some of those things with—and especially on—me.

But since I had absolutely no experience in that department, I immediately made it clear that none of it was going to happen.

Never ever!

The very idea of inserting something into my ass was completely incompatible with my worldview.

“Nothing goes in there. At most, things come out.”

But the most important thing was this: I didn’t want to be in pain.

He was disappointed, but he didn’t let me feel it. That was something I liked about him: no pressure, no coercion, just complete understanding.

No Means No. And Sometimes the Idea Still Lingers in Your Head.

My firm “no” had swept the thought of anal sex from his mind. We continued browsing. I even managed to convince myself to buy some new underwear so skimpy the fabric was barely worth mentioning. Before long, we were sitting on the train heading toward Elbgaustraße. And while my boyfriend dozed beside me, my thoughts were racing.

For some reason I still don’t understand, I couldn’t let go of the subject of anal sex. Something tingled inside me, and I began to realize that a strange curiosity had taken root. I had no idea where it had suddenly come from. But part of me wondered what it would feel like to be pleasured through that forbidden opening. I thought and thought as the darkened houses passed outside the window.

It hurts! It isn’t normal! A penis has no business being there. And once again: IT HURTS!

And despite all those warning thoughts, I couldn’t banish the idea of ass play from my mind.

By the time we got home, I was suddenly so horny that I grabbed my boyfriend. The sex was great. Intense. But not enough. He worked hard to give me an orgasm. Fingered me, licked me fantastically, and fucked me well. But the carousel inside my head kept circling around something else.

When I felt his climax approaching, I did something that shocked him pretty badly: while riding him, I rolled off and told him to stop.

The look on his face? Pure shock.

Sweet as he was, he thought he had accidentally hurt me.

The Moment I Changed My Mind

I took a deep breath. Gathered my courage and asked whether he might... want to play around back there after all...

He looked at me questioningly. His expression shifted between excitement and suspicion. He probably thought I was playing some nasty trick on him. Only after I assured him that I wasn’t up to anything cruel did his face brighten, and he began to glow. Something I still love about men to this day: their endless gratitude when a woman opens up her back door.

Before he could begin, however, he had to promise that he would be careful. I knew he had never had anal sex with a woman before. His experience—just like mine—was basically nonexistent.

He agreed.

What else was he going to do?

Very Slowly. Very Carefully. Completely New.

And just like that, I was lying on my stomach, my head turned sideways and buried in a pillow. I had made myself as comfortable as possible. When the kisses came, I initially flinched. They were devoted to my butt cheeks. Very slowly, very gently, incredibly hot.

In that moment of uncertainty, I was as wet as... hmm... a waterfall. Or something like that.

When I felt his tongue slide between my cheeks and touch my ring for the first time, I squealed in surprise. I had expected pain in general—but at that moment, it simply tickled. Intensely. My ass squirmed beneath his touch, and it took me a few minutes to transform the tickling sensation into something exciting.

He kept licking. Since it was his first time too, he seemed a little clumsy at first. But he found his rhythm. And the more often he circled my sphincter, the more relaxed I became. I learned to enjoy the sensation of moisture and pressure against my anus. That part was easy, because nothing was inside me yet.

Yet.

Eventually, he grew bolder. He increased the pressure of his tongue until it seemed ready to disappear into my hole. For the first time in my life, I felt a slight stretching sensation in that particular place—one caused by pleasure and ecstasy.

And whew, there was definitely something to it.

And yes, I enjoyed it!

That changed, however, when he brought his finger into play. At first, I was okay with the way he circled the ring with the tip and teased me. But it was something entirely different when the finger suddenly tried to find its way inside me. When it finally slid deeper, I clawed at the bedsheet. Even though the finger was very thin compared to his penis.

The sensation of something entering my ass from the outside was seriously spooky. I immediately felt that intrusive foreign-body sensation and the urge to get rid of whatever didn’t belong there. But the finger remained. Slid deeper.

Suddenly, I felt ashamed and hoped my boyfriend wouldn’t encounter anything inside me that would embarrass me.

But let’s leave it at that.

He began moving his finger slowly back and forth. He used plenty of lube, and before long, it was making some serious wet, smacking sounds. Meanwhile, he kissed my ass. My back. He was very gentle and considerate. And yet I was still gripping the sheet. My eyes were squeezed tightly shut. I listened to my body and hoped that the pain lurking softly in the background would stay away.

When he added a second finger, things became difficult. The stretching sensation intensified quickly and hovered somewhere between “just about okay” and “ouch!” But my curiosity about what might come next still outweighed everything else. When my boyfriend finally asked whether he could continue, I nodded hastily.

“Do it!”

He fucked me with two fingers. The wet sounds grew louder as he increased his speed. Then, without warning, they stopped, and the fingers disappeared. In their place, I felt his hands settling gently on my hips. He pulled me onto my knees. I swallowed because I knew we were moving on to the next level.

Strangely enough, my anus was pulsing. And that was completely unfamiliar to me. When my boyfriend squeezed cold gel from the tube and let it drip directly between my cheeks, I squealed again and complained bitterly. Funny that this, of all things, was the moment that made me scold him.

He apologized, and everything was forgiven. He spread the gel thoroughly and lubricated my back door. I pulled a large pillow toward me and lowered my head and upper body onto it, leaving my ass raised and exposed. I heard a slick slapping sound that told me his penis was also being coated with gel.

I breathed deeply in and out. I knew the moment was imminent. I put all my effort into relaxing. Into loosening the muscle. I absolutely did not want to tense up. I was certain that would hurt.

He crawled into position behind me and rose over me. I quickly felt the head of his cock sliding through my crack until it reached my anus and centered itself against the opening.

And then it happened.

The pressure increased. My boyfriend put his plan into action. Pushed his pride and joy forward. Slowly, only very slowly, his spear stretched me open. I moaned. It really did hurt, but only because I had forgotten what I was supposed to do and had completely clenched shut. I arched like a cat and had to force myself to relax. Eventually, I managed it.

He penetrated deeper. Claimed his space. Millimeter by millimeter. And suddenly, it was done: the tightest point had been overcome.

After that, everything happened very quickly.

His penis sank inside me. I moaned. No—I gasped. The sensation was so surreal and insane that I wasn’t capable of anything more at first. When the thrusting began, my body became a wonderland of the strangest sensations imaginable. At that point, I was certain I would stop everything at any moment. So I suffered in silence, hoping it would get better.

And what can I say?

It got better!

The stretching sensation weakened with every thrust. Eventually, even the pain became manageable. It was still uncomfortable, but just barely tolerable. My boyfriend, meanwhile, could hardly control himself. He was so horny and worked up that I could practically feel how difficult it was for him not to lose his mind completely and turn into Jackhammer Jack himself. Fortunately, the sex we had already had before this had filled his orgasm meter nicely.

He roared as he emptied himself into my ass. That was another sensation that felt incredibly foreign. Heat, volume, lubrication. The whole package. Completely organic.

Oh Lord, was he grateful afterward.

As I collapsed onto my side, he began massaging me while panting with exhaustion. Now imagine how bizarre it is to be massaged while lying in bed with a twitching anus, slowly leaking through your stretched-open hole.

Intense!

An absolute boundary-pushing experience! Less awful than I had expected, but exhausting. And it had aftereffects. I could still feel the ass-and-cock workout the next morning.

And Today?

Anal sex has become an absolute standard in bed for me. I have it regularly, not only on set but also in private. With men and women. With toys and without them. One thing that is always involved, though, is a whole lot of passion. Because I can enjoy it. I know how to prepare myself. How to surrender without suffering. And that is worth its weight in gold.

Not only because I get pleasure from it myself.

No.

Pleasure is an essential part of an anal porn shoot. Especially when two or more guys are taking your back entrance.

Initial rejection became desire.

Fear became ecstasy.

Worry became anticipation.