The Fun of a Fuck Buddy Part Three: Buggery

As it’s anal pleasure month, in this instalment of fun things to do with your fuck buddy (FB), I thought I’d write about buggery. My first encounter with anal sex was when Julian Clary, arriving on stage at the 1993 British Comedy Awards, announced he’d just been “fisting Norman Lamont”, then Chancellor of the Exchequer. The audience thought it was hilarious, but Norman was not at all amused and, positing itself as the nation’s moral compass, The Sun newspaper took Norman’s side and petitioned, unsuccessfully, to have Clary banned from television. Clary sort of apologised, blaming it on the medication he was taking for anxiety. Just sweet sixteen, I thought fisting was the name for “what gay men did” and felt very worldly telling a friend who had no idea what it meant (neither did I, as it happens).

Next time anal sex came into my life was when my first boyfriend, high as a kite, said he’d like to try it to experience what it was like to be penetrated. I had no idea how to respond to that so just nodded and hoped he forget about it. We had a couple of clumsy shots at sticking his dick in me, but didn’t get past the sphincter and split up shortly after. (Mostly because of his behemoth of a mother – nothing to do with a few failed attempts at anal sex.)

Intrigued by the thought of finding new ways to give men pleasure, I asked my gay friends for tips on things to do with dicks besides blowjobs and intercourse. Lazy in bed, by their own admission, they didn’t come up with much – just that the perineum is sensitive and massaging the prostate feels good.

A while later, on top of a fella, I asked if he liked having a finger in his ass when we had sex. He said he didn’t know so I licked my little finger and slipped it in. A methodical sort, he decided he liked it and set about finding all about his prostate and fun things to do with it. He read up on milking and bought anal beads and a butt plug. For Christmas, I bought him a strap-on, rimmed him with a dental dam, lubed him up, relaxed him with fingers, then fucked him. Not wanting to do any damage, I took it slow, but he urged me on. Sometimes he wanted it without lube, bracing himself but saying he loved it.

A few weeks ago I introduced FB to his prostate. I started with my little finger, sliding it in while I licked his perineum and stroked his cock. He sighed. I slipped another finger in and pressed against his prostate while I stroked his cock and flicked between his legs with my tongue. Hey presto – it was orgasmtastic!

In fantasy I’m turned on by receiving anal – a mental anatomical image of the penis inside the anus seems to help, for some reason – but, in reality, I’ve never got past the point of it making me feel like I need to shit. I’ve read posts and articles by women in which they say they love anal sex and have far more sensitive parts in their ass than in their vagina so maybe it’s a question of practice. If FB ever stops asking me to do “that thing” with my tongue and fingers, I’ll give it another shot. In the meantime, generous sort that I am, I’m happy to give.

Kate Gould

In no particular order, Kate Gould is a writer, Beethoven groupie, feminist, campaigner for sex workers' rights, tattooed lady, etiquette fanatic, insatiable reader, and commissioning editor at The Fine Line. She's doing a PhD in the medicalisation of sex at Edinburgh university and spends most of her time reading in her flat overrun by pet rats, Muffin, Milly, and Olivia. She's been a research assistant to Germaine Greer and Shere Hite, MORI pollster, book critic, magazine editor, over-worked publishing intern, nanny, English teacher, and hotel critic. Her book on flashers, Exposing Phallacy: Flashing in Contemporary Culture, is published by Zero Books. The best insult she's ever heard is “buckle-bunny wannabe” and the best thing she's ever eaten is the raspberry cheesecake in Gaia on Leith Walk.

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