Silence (non-fiction)[M/F][anal]

I’ve [m29] always been into anal, but I’ve always had a complex about it, too. The earliest sexual urge I can remember was wanting to feel the inside of an actress’s butt with my fingers. I didn’t understand the impulse (I didn’t know much about sex at the time), I just remember this palpable longing to touch and penetrate. It was like an intense physical curiosity in my hands themselves, like a compulsion similar to the need to fidget. Very soon after, I noticed the same craving sensation in my mouth, a deep yearning to kiss, lick, tongue and suck. It’s been with me ever since.

When I did learn about sex, I remember feeling a deep sense of self-criticism. I felt like I was broken or mis-wired. I had an appreciation for vaginas in an abstract sense, but it paled in comparison to my desire for butt, which was visceral, coming from the pit of my chest like a hunger… for something that’s not even a primary sex organ, and I knew it. I felt so torn, like my sexuality consisted of a request for an unreasonable favor, like it inherently had to be *accommodated*, like it was something to apologize for.

As I began dating, my partners either didn’t seem to mind, or overtly liked it (what they initially knew about it—I’d try to keep it tempered), but when the full extent of my tastes would inevitably come to light, they typically seemed confused about what to make of me. I’d try very hard to be different, to be more conventional, but it just felt like I was acting. It probably came across that way too, because I’m not a very good actor.

Then I met a partner whose wiring corresponded with mine. To her, her butt was inherently sexual, even without external influence or inspiration. She said she’d always been this way, and she had complex feelings about it too, like me.

I remember the feeling when we first opened up to each other about it. It was like an intense relief, bordering on joy: here was someone with whom I could truly express my sexuality; my desires weren’t asking for favors, they weren’t impositions, they were welcome exactly as they were. And the emotions I felt as she smothered my face between her cheeks—comfort, peace, *closure*—didn’t strike her as strange, they aroused her and gave her a sense of erotic power she grew to relish. She learned to take, “selfishly”, solely concerned with her own gratification, feeding off my lust—I had (have) more than I know what to do with. With her, I could be myself.

She’d coax me into confessing outlandishly perverse fantasies for her own amusement, then double down and goad me to go further; I’d go miles, far beyond basic civilized decency—into absurdity—to a point where things started to not even resemble sex. Some of it we acted upon, some of it we laughed about, all of it felt marvelous to say to another human being.

She was unlike anyone I’d ever met. She had a mental independence and autonomy that was extremely unique. She was a chameleon without even trying to be; she gracefully took the form of whatever an occasion called for… except when she felt like being obstinate, at which point she was formidable. It only deepened my admiration for her wonderful mind.

There was something profound about her, almost inhuman. She had an androgynous air that was hard to place. Her features and body were overtly feminine: fine, pretty and fertile, with womanly hips and the petite build of a gymnast, but she had a certain presence that drew an almost homosexual attraction. She once told me she wished she’d been born a man, and maybe, in spirit, she already was. I thought of her as a true individual, a one-off, and I loved her.

It felt like we had a magical sexual chemistry. This is not hyperbole: she had literally the most beautiful asshole I’ve ever seen. Her cheeks were perky and round, and her legs were long and shapely like a ballerina’s. Her skin was effortlessly flawless. I couldn’t have imagined a nicer bottom if I tried. I was dumbstruck the first time I saw it. I licked every square inch.

I can’t even begin to describe the adoration I had for her butt. I fucking cherished it. It brought me such intense happiness that I’d tear up, no joke. I spent hours touching, groping, kissing and nuzzling my face against it, in her underwear, clothes, naked, anything I could possibly think of. I’d spread her cheeks and tenderly kiss her asshole after she got out of the shower, reach my hand inside the back of her underwear to stroke it as we cuddled, caress the spot with my thumb on the back of her yoga pants as she did stretches. I have so many warm memories. She told me she could literally feel my gaze on her skin, and said she’d never had anyone look at her quite like that. I was completely possessed. The relief was astoundingly deep. I felt weightless.

She’d let me masturbate next to her on the bed as she did class work, freely letting my hands and mouth explore her body as I pleased. I’d rub my cock everywhere, gush precum on her skin and massage it in, feel the elastic of her panties over the tip and leave little spots from my excitement. When I’d tell her I was going to cum, she’d rest her head down on the bed, slip a pillow under her pelvis and reach back with both hands. She’d pull her panties down to the bottom of her cheeks, then spread them wide with both hands, completely exposing her asshole to me. It would literally take my breath away. My eyebrows would furrow and my jaw would fall slack, my tongue hanging out, moaning unintentionally, my head spinning with intoxicating lust as I frantically stroked my lubed cock.

Then she’d send me over the edge, sweetly encouraging me to empty my balls onto her asshole. I can’t even begin to describe the emotions. And she’d fucking wink it for me as she whimpered in the most innocent, precious way possible. I’d cum so hard my vision blurred. I’ve never shot bigger, thicker loads in my entire life. My body poured itself out for her, so grateful to release.

Then I’d slip my fingers inside, using my own puddled semen as lube, feeling the warmth of her rectum around my fingertips. It was unimaginably delightful. I’d gently push my as much of my load into the cavity as I possibly could; it felt like giving her my love. When I slowly eased my fingers back out of her hole, it’d seal closed around them, like it’d received a gift. I’d tenderly rub the outside, my heart beaming with warmth.

Then she’d say something funny, reach back, pluck her panties back up around her bottom, pull the pillow out from under her torso and get back to work. I’d lay down next to her and she’d lean over to kiss me and say something cute, then I’d drift off into a state of tranquil oblivion, feeling nothing but peace and serenity, thinking absolutely nothing whatsoever, finally.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/svs2ee/silence_nonfictionmfanal