Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of gay male sexual content.


For ten long years I had been staring at her delightful dark little star commonly called a butthole. If I gave my dearest wife Anna a back massage then it would be looking back at me. When we played doggy style it would taunt me with a wink.

My longings deepened till I begged her repeatedly to allow me to make love to the tantalizing object of my desire, only to be rebuffed time and again, as she consistently refrained from anything she perceived to be less than normal.

More years ticked on. On rare moments of inhibition she occasionally gifted me with something adventurous. Less frequently the gift included a taste of what I needed - literally.

The first time was on vacation, relaxed and without a care, when she graced me with that delicious pleasure.

We were making love and she turned over, presenting her previously withheld cute tiny pucker to me saying, "You can do what you want."

In disbelief my mind was frozen in a state of confusion. Did she mean what I hoped she meant? I wondered if she meant I could lick it, or fuck it. She repeated those most joyous of coy words so I knew it was a real offer. I just didn't know the parameters of the offer. I find it both Interesting and frustrating how she can't use more direct language. But I figured if I were going to be permitted the greater lewd activity then surely I could start with the lesser.

We had been swimming all day and when I took that first lick. I was met by a hint of chlorine. Well, there was no doubt it was clean. In retrospect I wondered if her past reluctance was a fear that I would discover it to be dirty.

I was also amazed at the rubbery texture of this most tender forbidden orifice. I had never considered that, unlike the other soft lips on her body, this would be so surprisingly different.

The instant my tongue first made contact I started lapping away at her asshole. I probably should've teased and dabbed it first but the oral aspect of my passion was to be denied no longer. After a bit she pulled me up to her so we could fuck in her favorite position: boring old Missionary.

A couple more times, over the next few years, I got lucky enough to indulge myself in the ravishing of the most central part of her butt. She never was able to really enjoy it, but when her inhibitions were lessened, she at least tolerated it to make me happy.

We progressed from mere licking to some touching. Again, only on rare incredible moments did she let me massage it with my thumbs or stroke it with slow circular movements of my forefinger.

One day, rejected again when I had hinted that we should go further, I worked up the nerve to ask Anna point blank why she wouldn't even consider letting me have her final frontier.

Pausing for a few breaths she answered, "It's like my mind is a book that was written long ago, and now that the pages are published there is no other way the story goes. It's hard to consider other things."

But she has always been better than I at anything to do with words and without me realizing until it was too late she turned my words back on me, "How about you? Have you ever considered taking a thing, a man's, into your body?"

"Nooo," I replied slowly and reluctantly, "I haven't"

With a sly smile she asked, "Do you mean you have never once wondered what it would be like to suck one or get done in the back door? The thought hasn't even crossed your mind?" Then she laughed like we were just talking about some amusing event, "Not even when you used to watch porn and you saw all those dicks doing those things?" (I still watch porn but she needn't know that.)

I answered, "No, I guess I haven't. It's always been imagining me doing it to the girl, and now you." It was at this point that I realized I was affirming her theory of a mind being a published book. I needed to counter the argument before it took an irreversible hold. So I added, "but I could think about it. Just as a mental exercise. I mean, like you're my wife, so you, we, should consider trying new things, we should do new things for each other."

There! I did it. I had successfully opened the door to doing her beautiful back side while simultaneously avoiding any admittance to homosexual thoughts.

"Well," she said, still smiling, "I'll consider it. But you're gonna have to do things for me too. Big things Buster!" She shoved me playfully when she said it.

I leaped at the chance. "Of course! Whatever you want, Baby."

She kissed me deeply while caressing my cheek and thanked me, then rolled over to go to sleep. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. I knew my wife and not only had she virtually agreed to let me have her anal cherry, but she thanked me for it.

The seeds were sown and had taken root. I just needed to cultivate them a bit. I grinned and turned over myself.

For the next week I was extra loving: giving her big romantic smooches upon arriving home. I made sure to compliment her butt, and I gave her a few mid-week back rubs taking extra special care of her buns. I volunteered to do the dishes after dinner too. Meanwhile, I waited to hear what big chore she was going to want in return. When we took a golf vacation three years ago instead of a Disney vacation I had to build a garage.

That weekend I gave her a sensual body rub, ending with sweet kisses all up and down her back, then terminating at the cleft which was the pathway to her brown delight.

I was waiting for her to reject me, then unexpectedly, she arched her back, lifted her gorgeous buns into the air, exposing her mythical ring to me, and said the magic words, "You can do anything you want."

This time I felt pretty confident that "anything" meant anything. I decided that I needed to prepare her special hole so it could take what it was going to get without pain.

I touched it ever so gently with just the tip of my tongue in the same way I tease her pussy. Letting saliva flow down my tongue I wetted the area as I circled the diminutive crinkled entrance.

For a while, I became lost in the passion of rimming, intent on nothing else, I lapped at her timid sphincter, and nibbled on it like I couldn't get enough. I actually tried to french-kiss her butt-ring, poking my tongue ever so slightly into her tight anus. She squirmed a little at this but held her objections. Sucking and assuaging it into relaxation my lustful passion built to a frenzy with the thought of what was soon to come. I dribbled strands of saliva into her soon to be ravaged little hole. I had never gone this far this before, but I was instantly devoted to this dirty aspect of ass-worship, especially since I had such a breathtaking work of art to adore.

Soon enough it was time to move on. It would need to be loosened up if it were going to accept my impatient cock. Tracing circles with my tongue I added one finger, rubbing and pressing gently so as to gradually work up to the tiniest insertion of first, my smallest finger.

I progressed to larger fingers then reached for the long ignored bottle of lubricant which in my mind now seemed more an archetype of love potions. With a dab of the slick liquid and the previously deposited spit my fuck-finger easily sunk past my second knuckle stopped only by the other bent over knuckles of my remaining fingers which were impeded by her buttcheeks.

I stroked the interior walls wishing it to feel good for her as if some imaginary female prostate would benefit from my ministrations. A few more twists and strokes then I added the tip of my forefinger. She wasn't tense at all and I was soon able to begin levering my fingers to the side so as to stretch her anal chute.

I considered her readiness and decided that she needed only one more thing: my fat thumb. Two of my right fingers were opening up the doorway to nirvana and with my left I reached for the magic liquid again.

I squirted a generous amount around and between my submerged fingers. Dropping it nearby I then wedged my left thumb between the two prying digits. I shimmed it between them widening the pretty hole very slowly to a width I guessed to be about the same size as my dick.

For the first time today I felt her body tighten up. I froze, then calmed her with soothing words, "I'll be gentle. Just a little more time and a little slower is all."

I saw her consciously force herself to relax and she responded, " It's OK Baby, anything you want." I waited a bit longer anyway before continuing the important preparation.

Finally I felt it was time for the big event. I rose up, applied a liberal squeeze of specifically purchased anal lube to my rock-hard rod then wiped my fingers with a sex rag. With my mind's camera I snapped a photo of my glistening penis towering over my darling's greasy anus as I wiped my hands again.

I touched the mushroom head to the sacred place half-fearing she would change her mind. But she didn't. Instead it was apparently her turn to encourage me. Her soft melodic voice chimed, "It's OK." Though I had doubts she could really handle it after all these years of signaling me that she could not.

If I had any doubts about her readiness they evaporated when she pushed her chest against the bed causing her delightfully round and firm buttocks to lift. My wondrous vixen intended to spear herself on me.

She failed but the mind blowing pressure of butthole against dickhead drove me crazy. The emotional intensity was so great I felt lightheaded. I waited till my head was clear then resumed advancing toward my goal.

It wouldn't go in, instead it bent. Grasping the shaft to hold it straight I levered it down while pressing. It still failed to make any headway. I was desperate and losing control by now. I had to be inside!

Placing my thumb on the head of my penis I pushed. It hurt my dick but she seemed fine so I kept pushing. Finally I saw the tip slip, first halfway inside, then another half inch and the most successful accomplishment of our sex life was done. The head was in! We were officially having butt sex.

I put my hands on the mattress on either side of her arms to steady myself. With an imperceptible rocking of my hips the before mentioned final frontier would soon be behind us.

But then I felt a suggestion of dryness. Careful not to lose any of my hard won progress, I thought it best to add some more lube. After all this might be my only chance. With some awkward balancing and squirting I got the special area lubed up then I kissed the back of her neck lovingly while moving my hand back into its supporting position and whispering, "I love you."

She answered sweetly with no hint that the exchange was anything other than pleasantries spoken while passing in the hallway, "I love you too."

With alternating statements of reassurance I responded to her response, "It's so obvious you love me. You're amazing. It's amazing. I love you more than ever."

Her voice had a little gentle sing-song quality to it: "I can tell you like it. You've never been so out of your mind. I love you more than ever too."

But I still feared I might hurt her. "You've never been so sacrificial. I love you. It's not hurting you is it?" The whole head was in.

"No, but if it did I would do it for you. Yes! I love you. Don't worry."

"I love you for this." I felt her tense a smidge when a full inch went in all at once. "Are you sure? I promise I'll stop. I love you too much to hurt you."

Her pitch was slightly strained: "I love you more than chocolate and pizza - combined." She joked to relieve tension. "But if I were in your position I'm not so sure I could make a promise like that." Then firmly, with resolve she said, "Just do it! Have your way with me."

This was a new confident and sexy attitude I saw: "You turn me on more than ever. I love you." I was half in.

"Do it, Love. Enjoy it."

"You're sensational. Incredible." I kissed the nape of her neck some more between sweet affirmations. "So wonderful to me. I love you." I was three quarters in.

What a terrific wife! She offered her butt to me then instead of feeling resentful or harbouring any unpleasantness her love for me just deepened: "Oh, I love you. Ooh oooh, I love you. I love you!" Her words came out faster and faster with greater fervor.

With the same ardor she corkscrewed her ass against me fucking herself on my tool. She now pushed up, taking over for me. Her perfect athletic ass rose up and down. Her words came between thrusts: "Yes!...You love me. You love me!...I can feel it sooo deep... inside me...deep...filling me...I can feel that it's all the way in. I feel your boys rubbing my girl."

"I love you. Does it hurt? Ugh, I...love... you." I was close. I was going to cum any second now.

"I don't care if it hurts. It's only a little. You wanted this. You needed it. I love you. I want to please you. You love me. You please me. I do things for my love and you'll do things for your's."

"I'm... coming... in... you... in... my... love... I'm cum...ing." And grabbing and pulling her as far back on me as I could by her arms, I exploded. I held still in there, balls deep, injecting her spectacular rectum with several doses of creamy goodness.

I lay down on top of her back, body to body. I kissed her neck some more, gently, apologetically, between heavy breaths.

"I love feeling your weight on me." Then toyingly she added, "I could even like this new feeling inside me too...sometimes. Play your cards right and just maybe this could be more than once 'n done."

Never had she said anything that quickened my pulse more. This most generous of all woman deserved the world. I would do anything for her.

I fell sideways onto my back exhausted and panting. My gooey, cummy, and dirty penis was draped over my thigh.

One night, the following week, we were about to sit down to an evening of TV. She snuggled into my shoulder then with barely a whisper she divulged the following, "Oh Honey, I'm so broken - sexually." I knew she had never been raped or abused so I really wondered what could be so bad that my well adjusted and sweet wife considered herself to be broken. "I have these perverted thoughts. I've run from them forever." She continued, on the verge of tears. I held her close and offered a comforting touch.

She started into a long cathartic story. "You remember my friend Pam. I've told you about her. What I never told you is that I had a teen-girl crush on her. We never did anything, well hardly anything, but it colored my whole view of the world during that impressionable time.

One time we'd managed to get ourselves into a party the older group was throwing. It was at Kev's house, when his parents were out of town. We heard this hip girl talking about a dice game and we wanted to be cool too so we attached ourselves to her. There was plenty of beer so we were feeling free and five of us ended up sitting around an old card table in the garage. Three girls and two cute guys.

The hip girl, Terry, introduced us all to the game. Depending on what combination you threw you had to remove an article of clothing, or touch someone, or do something risque with someone.

But it was all a big prank she was playing on the boys. The game was rigged so that the girls might only have to show a little something while the boys were gonna get in kinda deep.

I had never been drunk before, never played a sexy game with cute boys before, and never showed my boobs to anyone before - all of which happened. It was scary and exciting and gave me new overwhelming tingly feelings.

Eventually, all three of us girls had our tops off. Intrigued, I stole glances at the two other pairs of tits, so unique and different from my own, but what made a bigger impression is that the boys were only wearing tighty whities and had started being given dares from the list. Seeing them through the thin white fabric I was mesmerized by the form of their hard man parts - parts that were hard for me, for us. The boys were so excited to see our young breasts and it was so stimulating to be admired for the first time. My face and chest were flushed but down below it was hot. I was so afraid everyone was aware of the fire within me.

Sure, the boys were gawking at us and even been dared to cop a few feels but that was nothing compared to what they had to do to each other. It was nothing compared to what I was able to witness them do to each other.

Still they had no idea they were being played, and based on the huge grins on their faces thought themselves to be very lucky that at any moment one of us girls might have to do something sexual with them.

So far they had flashed us for ten seconds, and touched each other down there, AND rubbed their hard-ons against each other through their underwear.

Terry whispered to us that the big event was bound to come up soon but she couldn't be sure how soon 'cause it was still a game that depended on the roll of the dice after all.

For the first time in my life, buzzed with alcohol, I experienced lust. It excited me to feel Pam's warm naked shoulder touching mine, it thrilled me to see perky nipples, and it made my heart thump to see the almost naked boys do daring and prohibited things to each other. You have to remember it was all so new to me and, even at eighteen, I was too young to sort out all the conflicting emotions.

Next, things really amped up. Andrew rolled the dice and according to the game he had to take Pete into his mouth for one minute. He balked, but Terry knew just what to say to make him dream of the next dice toss when presumably one of us girls would do the same. After she was through toying with him he was sure his fortune was just about to turn. It was at exactly the heart-stopping second when he started to lower Pete's underwear that we became aware of a commotion in the main part of the house.

People were stashing cups of beer, and running for the doors, and yelling that there were cops in the house. The five of us dashed out the rear garage door so fast we almost forgot to scoop up our clothes. We ran for the pool house, ducked inside, and hid behind a stack of lawn chairs. I lost track of the boys who must have gone another way, so in the end it was just us half-naked girls.

(Reader: if you want to read a whole story about the party and what happened to the boys check out my coming story called "The Dice Game")

Quietly, in the pitch dark, frightened out of our minds, and with trembling fingers, we helped each other get back into our clothes then stayed hidden until the coast was clear."

Anna shivered as she told her story through tiny shuddering and almost imperceptible sobs. I listened intently and never let go. I wanted to comfort her as best I could but in the end I couldn't figure out what was so traumatic about the events that sounded so electrifying.

She looked up at me for the first time since she had begun, searching for something, but I didn't know what to give. I held her then by both shoulders, face to face, and uttered these lame words, "And this broke you?" She understood this to be a statement of complete understanding and acceptance rather than a question.

She collapsed into me, at ease for the first time all evening, telling me she was glad I knew. I hated to ask but since I didn't understand..."Why, why did this break you?"

She lifted her chin up again, staring into my soul and let out a halting confession: "Because it was the gayness that turned me on." Her voice trailed off, small and weak, "it still does."

I didn't care if she was turned on by it, or broken. I loved her more than life and I needed her to know that I would always be there no matter what she needed in order to work through her feelings of brokenness. I told her, "I'll give you whatever you need."