Two Little Peggings Go To Market Part II

Now the second time was wholly different. This guy was just as good in bed, but he didn’t ever want me to dominate him – suited me mostly fine. So it surprised me when he suggested that he wanted to be pegged. Now that we are no longer in touch I can be candid about this. I was very tentative about doing it this time because he himself didn’t seem sure. I couldn’t tell what was actually driving his decision to do this, it certainly wasn’t anything that I was advocating or angling for. But he did want to do it and I do like to please.

He came out of the shower and asked me was I ready. I wasn’t, I hadn’t realised what he had wanted to do. I hastily threw on the stockings, suspenders and killer lingerie set I’d brought for this occasion and then pulled on the harness.

If I was doing this, I needed to be attired appropriately. I had blindfolded him before I started, as he lay on the bed. When I was all ready, I told him he could take it off. And I walked over to the bed and stepped up on it. So I was standing over him looking him in the eye, and stroking my rubber cock. ‘Oh god, you look amazing. That, the underwear, that’s the best thing you’ve ever worn’. I’m glad he liked it, it was for maximum effect.

I ran my toe up his inner thigh to his cock as his hand went to stroke it.

I nudged his hand away, told him softly that he wasn’t allowed to touch anything until I said. And then I straddled him and knelt down, my rubber cock in one hand his hardening cock in my other.

I sucked his shaft, glanced up at him. Licked his balls, glanced back up at him. Still I couldn’t tell if he was happy with me dictating the pace so I entertained myself for a few minutes then crawled up him, cat like and leant down next to his face. He didn’t look tentative, he looked scared. I’m not sure what he wanted, I’m not sure what he needed me to be. I think I might have broken the spell and asked him if he was ok? Whether I did or not I know I kissed him, made him reach for my lips and then whispered in his ear ‘Turn over and get on your knees, because I want that arse’.


He duly did but before I did anything he was asking where the lube was, not in his haste to get going but more in a panic that I would start without it. I might have, but I wasn’t going to do it with nothing… I had planned on using spit.

I spread his cheeks and get my tongue in there. Then I spit on it and go back to it, this time working a little finger in.

There’s not much noise from him so I’m not sure if he’s enjoying it. I keep going because I am. But after I switch to a bigger finger I reach through his legs to feel his cock. It’s not hard. I don’t draw attention to this but I ask again if he’s ok. He assures me he is and that he is turned on.


I get the lube and start working it around his hole and into it. I tell him what I’m doing as I do it, because I love that, when someone does it to me, telling me what they’re doing, working two fingers in and then three. I wish there wasn’t lube on everything as I want to lick it with my fingers in there.

I ask if he’s ready, he says he is. I work lube all over the shaft of my cock and more into his arse and I start to try to get it in, I think after three fingers this dildo wouldn’t be tight but it is. It takes ages, loads of different positions, just like the first time, but I do manage it. I do manage to get my rubber cock in there and fuck him. This feels different, this is me finally thrusting into someone, into a guy. And I like it. I like how I look doing it, I like the sensation. I like how dirty and wrong it feels and I just like the whole idea of it.

What I don’t like is the look on his face – for two reasons. He looks scared. Is that what girls look like when guys fuck us? I don’t want to make someone look like that, I don’t enjoy it, it doesn’t make me feel good. And this isn’t what I wanted from this; I’m not wearing a strap on to make myself feel powerful and him feel scared or anxious and untrusting, I’m doing it for his pleasure. And to hear those gorgeous sounds I thought I was going to hear – that’s what was in it for me. But the overarching emotion that seemed to be on his face was anxiousness, anxiousness that I would go too hard, or too fast or somehow lose myself. Which is really redundant because from his male point of view, he seems to have forgotten one pretty important factor; this is not a real dick that I’m wearing! and I’m not about to come from this. I was monitoring his reactions the whole time, because his reactions were all I wanted.


But what I took from it was that he didn’t trust me. And that saddened me. What also was a shame was that this was something that he wanted and he didn’t seem to be able to let go and embrace it. He was still trying to control and make sure I didn’t hurt him. Which was disappointing to me.


I was very glad when he said after that it was a box ticked and we didn’t need to do it again. What was also worth noting was that for the rest of the weekend he said he had no interest in fucking my arse! After him being only just about able to take the dildo, which was a good third smaller than his cock, he had a renewed respect for how I’d taken all of his up mine.



I don’t regret it and I don’t view it as a bad experience at all. I finally got to properly fuck someone in the arse and I’m delighted with that. But that’s not what I want out of a pegging situation. And I know that it’s not something that will niggle at the back of my head as something that I wasn’t able to do properly.

I think the key thing with it is, if you’re not sure, then you don’t have to do it. If you don’t think you can relax and enjoy it then you DON’T have to do it! It’s ok to change your mind.

But mostly I’m happy that I’ve sent one bloke out in to the world with a better appreciation of penetration in general – and to be a hell of a lot more grateful to any girl who’s willing to take his cock up her arse.







And so concludes Abbi’s adventures with pegging – for now.

Two Little Peggings Go to Market Part I

Someone sent me a mail recently and said they’d just wasted a day reading my blog – never bored of hearing that. And I asked if there was anything they liked in particular. There were a few suggestions but the one that to won was pegging.

I have been struggling of late with the hot posts so it’s about time we got back to that, and this suggestion reminded me of a piece I had in my drafts folder about an encounter last year.



I have only pegged two guys. I have been asked to do it a lot more than that but it wasn’t until someone convinced me utterly that they found it so hot that I actually went out and bought the strap on and finally did it.


From the second I had it in my hands it turned me on. It was a beautiful, black, leather one, lined in suede. With a modest dildo in it. This is detachable and you can get both bigger rings and bigger dildos to fit it. When I wore it, it got me so wet. I’m not sure I felt more powerful but I did feel dirtier. Something about it was a bit wrong and I liked it. I liked being naked and stroking my black rubber cock. The straps came around my thighs and over my arse in a harness that beautifully framed my cheeks and I loved that also.

If I’d known any of this beforehand I think I might have been quicker to purchase one. But I’m still glad I didn’t. I got there when it was the right time with the right person. And it is him that made the first experience so fucking good. And so very different to the second experience.



I’m a bit submissive. I like someone else to do the directing, I like the idea of someone who is able to take the reins. So it’s not totally natural for me to want to make someone submit. But I am very open and I want to try things but moreover I want to have a good time and I categorically want my partner to. Previous to meeting this guy the other requests were met with amiable but only mildly enthusiastic acquiescence. But this time it was very different. He wanted it so badly and I wanted to turn him on so badly. An immovable object met an unstoppable force. The time had come.

And it was the perfect time. Working up to it I had put other things in his arse, a finger, a thumb, several fingers….. my tongue. But nothing this rigid. And every time I did anything to his arse he made the most amazing sounds. I was greedy for them. I was a whore for them. All I wanted was to make him make that sound for me. That deep guttural, lost and in awe of what I’m doing to him sound. Different from when I’m on my knees with his cock down my throat and he’s breathing in through this teeth saying ‘God yeah, take it’. No, this is very different this is an utterly other noise. This is surrender and delight, this is release and not giving a fuck about it. It’s the noise of surrendering to a desire being met well. And fuck me if I don’t love delivering that.

(ok, if pushed to describe it I think it would be more akin to getting a sports massage, that kind of delicious release-pain)



Using a strap on is not easy. I don’t have a dick and I don’t know how to wield a fake one. I can’t tell if I’m getting it in right or if it feels ok. It was not as easy as porn had led me to believe.

And eventually I took it out of the harness and I used my hand to push it in and to work his hole. Twisting it in and out and spitting on it to lube it up. While working his cock with his other hand until he came. I adored it. While I would have preferred to have been able to fuck him properly with the strap on, I did get what I came for; hearing him make those noises and seeing his face as he took it. I loved doing that to him and knowing that he loved it. Even fleeting thoughts of him like this get me so aroused…..


We moved on from the strap on and the dildo and moved on to the big fat butt plug that I bought. Even the super-hot gay guy selling it to me thought it was too big for a straight guy. I knew better. Of course he was actually right, it was huge for an arse but we got there. He took it all in him. Again a night that I was fucking thrilled to have experienced. Every time wanting to make him make those sounds just as he, on most other occasions, pulled and coaxed them out of me.

Of all the times we were together he only actually fucked my arse once. He was the first guy to ever come in there. But I’m so glad that he was willing to take something as big as his own dick in his own arse, because there has to be reciprocity for me on this; either you’re taking something there or you’re not getting yours up mine. Them’s the rules.

Real Neat Blog


The lovely Charlie over at  charlieinthepool nominated me for this. I don’t have anyone left to nominate as everyone has been nominated already.

Charlie is lovely and is far more forthcoming and brave with her boobs. Check her out, you might like her.

Here’s her twitter also: @charlieinthe

 How important a part does masturbation play in your life?

Em, not really to be honest. Sex is really important to me but not so much masturbation – I wouldn’t say I’m great at it! Well, I can obviously get myself off but not unless I’m super aroused to begin with. And usually that takes interaction with another person – but sometimes, it can just be texts, or thankfully when I’m reading some erotica or reliving the sex I’ve had myself then I will need to relieve myself and can do so in about 40 seconds.

But I can go ages without touching myself – maybe weeks.


What is the single greatest benefit that blogging provides to you

I’d say the benefit has been confidence in myself as a creative and a reinforced knowledge that I’m not just a cog in a corporate wheel, who sold out on what she really wanted to do because she was too busy having sex to figure out what it was she wanted to do!

Is that lame? Well unfortunately it’s the truth. I love that I finally have a creative outlet that I absolutely can’t do without. It makes everything else more bearable.


How do you react when you get sent photos of penises?

I love penises. And I mostly love getting pictures of them. I won’t ever solicit them or overtly even hint that I like being sent them. Because I don’t want to get into a ‘rate my penis’ situation or worse the ‘does my penis turn you on, tell me what you’d like to do it’ brigade. If someone wants to send me a dick pic then I am very happy to look. But I’m not happy to converse all day with you about it and I don’t owe you anything…. She says, to all those who want to send me pics. Do so, simply because you want to. And please don’t put them on my timeline. They’re for private only.

(P.S. they are rarely a disappointment)


Have you experienced any negativity as a direct result of blogging? If so, what is it and how did you overcome it?

No. Not specifically. I haven’t had any bullying or nasty comments. There have been some over enthusiastic guys who seem to think that I am solely here for their entertainment and I’ve had to block them. Or the ones who are enraged that I (shockingly) won’t meet them. But all in all it’s been a great experience. There’s only been one thing that saddened me and made me feel confused. Probably more so because it was from another girl – and so her claims of being sex positive and pro women all fall flat now.

I’d say the worse thing has been my friends’ new found ‘bored’ faces when I try and say anything about the blog now. They’ve lost interest and don’t listen to me! (boo hoo hoo….. I am really kiddin here)


If you could change one thing about you or your life, what would it be and why?

Hmmmm I want to say; I’d like my house renovated again. Or be an eternal size 8 (size 4 for you yanks) Or be the perfect D cup. Or have gotten a masters by now. But really, my house is lovely, the tits are fine, my body isn’t that bad (size 12) and I have a good career despite the glaring lack of a masters. What I don’t have is a partner in crime and that is the one thing that I would change.

(wait, we were talking about hypothetical things that a fairy god mother could fix right?)


How would you describe your writing process? Exactly how do you come up with your subject matter and compose your post?

I have often ended up at the wrong place because I was writing a piece in my head as I was cycling across the city. Mostly I think when I’m having sex (having great sex) about how I will write about it. Sometimes I’m thinking ‘this is great sex, but there’s no story to it’.

So I’m not a great writer, I can only write about how I feel or what I did. There’s none of it fiction which wounds me some days. I wish I had that skill but alas I do not.

Sometimes people will ask me questions on Twitter, or send me emails and ask me to write about certain topics, and like I said, if I’ve any experience of the thing, then I will.

And other weeks, I’m just balls out fucking enraged by something and I have to address it and get it all out.

But when there’s nothing and I can’t think, I have to go back to the old adage; open laptop, sit down, write.

It really isn’t complicated. It also might not produce anything good! But you have to force yourself to sit down and even if shit comes out, you need to get that out. Like running an old tap. Either way, if you sit around waiting for inspiration it won’t happen. You have to have discipline and … believe.

(these two things are utterly impossible for me some days as even Joyce says those days are all: No, pen, no ink, no table, no room, no quiet, no inclination)

Random Things I Do Find Hot

After all my ranting about things that I don’t find hot I thought I’d throw out a list of stupid, random things that I do find very hot but that are so far down the order of things that you are ever allowed to list or hope for.

Tiny things, that just kind of do it for me in ways I sometimes wish they didn’t.


Driving. When a guy is a good driver, but especially when he puts his arm over the back of the seat when he’s reversing. No clue. Can’t explain it, it’s just hot.

When a guy knows quite a bit about sport but isn’t so into it that he wears team jerseys as casual wear. (If a guy showed up to meet me in a jersey, I think that would be a deal breaker)

Guys who drink pints but know a good gin and wouldn’t give a shit about ordering a cocktail.

Guys who know a bit about wine. Or a lot.

Food. Having a big appetite, loving food. Appreciating decent eating. Not a picky eater. And for the love of God please have an appetite bigger than me

A well tended man garden – I love the reciprocity.

Ditto good underwear. Do you know how much a bra and knickers set cost? I love finding out that you’ve spent nearly that amount. But really it’s just that I love that you’ve thought about them at all and clearly put effort in.

An ironed shirt. Damn it. I just love a guy in a shirt that is crisp – and the idea that he did it himself. (This shirt is white by the way. Always)

A huge and overt lack of jealousy – actually this one isn’t random at all it’s just such a huge turn on for me.

Manners. Jesus christ if manners aren’t hot. Especially table manners. If you put your knife in your mouth it’s very possible that I might not be able to let you put your penis in me.

A very real and unwaverable belief that tea is great and that there’s no substitute for real butter.

A very real and unwaverable desire to make the said tea 50% of the time.

A guy who’s able to sit arround with a hangover and binge watch some box sets. Or read the Sunday papers – almost in silence, eating toast and drinking tea (if you’re not able to do this then the second best thing is to get the feck out of my place so that I can get on with it by myself!)

Men who want daughters. Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting a son but it’s just so rare to meet a guy who understands that father daughter bond and wants it for themselves. It’s attractive in its refreshingness. (but not wanting kids at all is the hottest)

Guys who have no desire to want me to change my name. I understand why you would want me to, I appreciate the emotion behind it and how much weight it carries. And you want your woman to be part of you, to be your family. I get that, I truly do. The pressure to conform to tradition. I do get it. But someone so at ease with themselves and their place in the world that they aren’t threatened by me keeping my own name. So. Fucking. Hot. But like with all these others, these are just small cherries on the cake. Nothing that I would put on a list or hope for or think out loud – they’re just so delicious when they occur all by themselves.

A thorough lack of squeamishness. An appreciation that we are human and human bodies do things. Periods, cum, poo, sweat…. not being squeamish about these things just makes you hotter in my eyes. Along with the implicit agreement that I am human too, and these things will occur and this doesn’t make me less attracticve, it’s just human.

Someone who switches to using my real name without having to be told.

A guy who holds the door for me and then slaps my arse as I walk through. Always makes me feel perfectly treated then.


Not one of these things is essential. Not one of them is anything that I would lose sleep over or has the power to break any deals. None of them is even strong enough as a stand alone. Well maybe one or two are, but really these are just some small things that I see, that I personally like.

Jobs You Might Think Are Hot That I Do Not

I keep going to write a piece about the things that girls are supposed to find hot, and that I categorically do not. But I’m not sure how long a post I can make that?

It mostly seems to centre on either uniforms, or music. With side lines into sports and medicine…. which just ends up at careers as opposed to hobbies or traits. So here here it is – occupations that just don’t do it for me.


Ok. I’ve done a list of jobs I find hot which you can read about here. Incidentally I have since had an architect and it was very fucking hot. The sex I was not disappointed in but him? I truly, deeply was. So I might have to revise that list but not until I find a hotter profession. (Nope, sorry it’s probably always gonna be Architect; manly building know-how and engineering stuff plus artistic creativity and styley taste… so fucking hot. The search continues. Until then, can you IT guys please step up to the plate? It’s kinda been a while)


Anyway, this is about the things I don’t find hot. But that most girls seems to. I might have explanations for some of them, others? Well they may just be buried in my psyche.



I get it, being great at something is hot. Being in a band is mesmerising and it’s attractive. Watching someone own a stage and belt out something that speaks to your core? I fully appreciate the premise. Except… like Fr. Dougal McGuire I think you should never meet your heroes, you’ll only be disappointed.  And anyone I think is an amazing song writer – well I just want to imagine them as that, and not the asshole they might be or the rubbish friend they maybe are? I want the distance, I want the mystery. I think we should have less knowledge of our heroes’ lives.

But in addition to that I think I’ve done my time as a teenager dating musicians and singers and utterly seeing through it in the end. It may have scarred me a little. And lastly there’s the ultimate dilemma of seeing someone in a band – well, if you care about them, then you want them to do well. You want them to succeed with their talent. Except that then means that they would need to be away more. Out late most nights. Not available at weekends. Maybe away on tour… you see where I’m going with this.

It’s hard to maintain a relationship with that going on. Or indeed believe that you’re the only one who those songs are about ….

But on the other side? Do you want to see them fail just so they’re more available to you? To not progress, to be broken by the thing they love so much? Of course you don’t. If you possess a heart and not a swinging stone, I hope.

Either way neither option seems like a great deal to me and it serves to turn me off.

If I’m at a wedding or a party and someone can play something, or sing amazingly – it just doesn’t do it for me. I don’t find that person more attractive than I did before. I’m certainly not more keen to sleep with them. If indeed I was keen in the first place.

Anyway, that’s my attempt at trying to explain why I don’t swoon as soon as someone tells me they’re in a band. Big swinging mickey, you’ll have to find something else to get my knickers wet, that one’s just not what’s going to work for me.

(I wish you and your band no specific ill will, I just have no interest in it)


Caveat: None of the above statements negate me finding people in bands attractive. Let me explain, I don’t have any desire to sleep with anyone famous but if I met someone who happened to be in a band, as a secondary job or who played/sang as a hobby  – this doesn’t mean I wouldn’t sleep with them or go out with them or generally want to fuck them. Of course I would. It’s just not a trump card.


Useless info: I did go out with someone who could sing and play guitar and he never mentioned it. One night, round at a friend’s there was suddenly a guitar (how many annoying times has that happened) and he knocked out a tune and I was blown away. Later that year at a party in my parents’ house where everyone had to sing he was pointed at randomly and he belted out such an amazing rendition of ‘I’ve Got You, Under My Skin’. Again I had no idea he could sing, let alone that well and that kind of shocked me. But I’d have been just as happy if he was shit. What I think I liked was finding out something about him that I didn’t know. And how he never mentioned it. But what I really, really liked was him not folding under the scrutiny of my whole famliy, and just taking his turn and singing.




Jesus why is this one bandied about so much. It feels so 1950s in both its gold digger connotations (i.e. marrying well) and its lack of acknowledgement for women’s own career trajectories. That somehow going out with a doctor is some status symbol. But it’s not just that. I don’t find doctors hot because so many of them fall into two categories; the super arrogant ones and the super nerdy ones. And I am a huge, HUGE fan of the right type of arrogance and an even bigger far of the nerds. (God I love nerds, mostly computer nerds, or maths nerds or science nerds… uunnghhh) but there is the right type of arrogance and then there’s the kind of arrogance that I think you might actually need to be a great doctor, a sort of god complex if you will. This is great if you’re the patient but not so great if you’re the partner. And there’s a kind of one dimensional nerdiness that doctors seem to emit that I find the opposite to most other nerdiness.

Caveat: Ok, to the doctors that I have met or who have tried to chat me up, there seems to have been an inordinate amount of the bad kind of arrogance and the non-hot kind of nerdiness.

Useless info: I once walked away, laughing from a doctor at a bar as he used his career as a pick up line. And I also once met a doctor (I was scoring his friend, who wasn’t a doctor and was rubbish in the sack) who lied about his profession because, it seems, I was not the only girl who found it a turn off …..


Cops/Firemen/Army Officers

Any of these hero type or uniform jobs – none of them seem hot to me. I’ll just admit that my dad was in the army so that would rule out army straight away. I’ll also mention that he was in the medical corps before I go ahead and slag off army jobs. Because I don’t believe in armies and any necessity for them outside of natural disasters and times of crisis for their own country. Feel free to disagree with me but anyone who wants to do tours of duty or (if you’re in the Irish Army) peace keeping missions to The Lebanon etc then I don’t think our core values are aligned. And for that alone I don’t find that attractive.

Cops sort of fit into this bracket also. I don’t like the mentality that goes with someone who wants to be part of that. I also think it would be super difficult to date someone who works shift (I am saying that as someone who’s two best mates work shift and I hate it).

And Firemen are the same. Working shift and being away and maybe being in danger. I hate all those things. But what I really don’t like, and this is true for all the professions mentioned in this section; there seems to be a certain type that goes in for these roles. A type that either wants or needs to be the hero and I’ve just always found it a bit of a turn off. I know that I am generalising here and I know that this can’t be the case for everyone in these jobs. I also know that they do great work and are to be commended for it. But as a thing that as a girl I’m supposed to fetishize? I’ll pass thanks, it’s just not for me.

Caveat: Obviously I was well able to see past the uniform and happily had a fantastic time with the one and only cop that I had the pleasure to know intimately. It even got to the point where I was into the uniform. The cuffs never needed any break in time, I was always fine with those, more so because they were real.


Useless info: The night I met the cop I nearly didn’t sleep with him when he admitted that’s what he did for a living. I’m very glad I give every eejit with the right twinkle in their eye a fighting chance. It was so eternally worth it.




Sports Stars


I’m not sure I even want to get into this one. Surely it’s self-explanatory? Yes, I watch rugby and I think someone is impressive or GAA and I marvel at the skill and dedication and the Jesus Christ, bone crushing thighs. BUT. I don’t want to sleep with them. I generally don’t want to sleep with anyone I haven’t talked to. Which I know no one believes but it is actually the case. I like to look, and I surely love to ogle and objectify but I don’t fantasise about sleeping with anyone unless I’ve had a conversation with them. As with band members, I’d rather not meet my heroes and have this illusion shattered. Admiration from a far is enough for me.

But what I really find unappealing is the scandal, the notoriety the endless opportunities for getting up to no good. The focus on just one aspect of your life and how dedicated you have to be to it – but also how dedicated everyone else in your life has to be to it too. How it’s almost one dimensional and everything takes a back seat to it.

Am I impressed by it? Sure. But do I think it’s hot. Nope.


Caveat: Yes I love that there are people out there that dedicate their lives to sports that I love and get to watch. But that again is not something that makes my pants wet and my cunt ache with the need to fuck someone who does this for a living.


Useless info: I have done it. First time was GAA second time was rugby. I am not proud of myself. Yes they were big names that could be googled if you weren’t familiar with either sport. And no I’m not going to let anyone take guesses.




What I’m trying to say is, I’m not so superficial as to write someone off because of what they do but more importantly what I’m saying is that not everything that we’re told about what turns girls on is true for every girl. You can’t possibly know what every girl will be in to. And neither can I. This is just a bunch of things that I am tired of having fetishized across every media because ‘sexy’ is not universal. Nothing is. But could we broaden the spectrum a little? Please?




I’m sure there are loads of things guys are told are hot and they are supposed to find super sexy but that you in particular don’t. Anyone want to share?

His Turn To Explain The Pegging

So it was bound to happen, someone has read something about themselves and they would like to counter. And I’m nothing if not fair so I’ve decided to post it here, word for word. I thought about not posting it but…. fuck it, I’m glad he sent it. It’s obviously addressing everything I said in this post here, so it might make more sense to read that first, but you don’t have to.


I kind of want to argue a few points but I won’t. There’s nothing here that’s a million miles away from my own thoughts anyway. There are some things I will have to say at the end though.

While this isn’t exatly someone writing a review of sex I had with them it sort of is and it’s somewhat odd to be on the receiving end this time ……. (Yes, I know what I did there)




Abbi Rode… My Arse.



Yes, it’s me. The little piggy that Abbi pegged and didn’t like it. In truth it’s never that simple, but nothing ever is. Either way, I learnt a bit about being on the receiving end, so why not share?


  1. Like so many fantasies, it doesn’t always go the way you expect.


I’ll be honest, I love a finger up the bum. If my balls have an emergency eject, it’s a finger pressed/rubbing on my prostrate. Done while I’m getting a blowjob and you can pretty much start counting down from ten until blast off. So a small rubber cock administered by a hot and very kinky girl? I felt safe in assuming that my cock would be like an iron bar. I doubted I’d last more than a minute or so.


So why my cock decided that it wasn’t going to make any kind of appearance, I’m not sure. However if I had to guess, I’d put it down to a little fear…


  1. Trust is everything. I’ve known Abbi for some time. One thing that will never be lacking is trust. And anyone that reads this blog will know that she isn’t the type to go into a sexual encounter like this without thought; she’s thinking about sex roughly half of her waking life and most of the time she’s asleep.


But as a straight guy, I’m not used to having a cock in me. And your arse? It’s a sensitive area. Like riding a rollercoaster, you may know that it’s safe and fun, but you can’t fully drown out that little voice saying that you’re going to end up with a very nasty injury. So you need to be able to relax, which takes time and a very trustworthy partner.


  1. You need lube. Spit? Fuck that. I better be like a Slip’n’Slide if that’s going near my arse. And you really can’t take too long preparing. One, two, three fingers, all lubed heavily and introduced gently and with a little bit of time between each. Good grief, don’t just jump right in or you’ll jump right back out, I promise.


  1. I have no experience of other cocks. That’s not my cup of tea. But it becomes very obvious that cocks and strap-ons vary in two particular ways. Firstly, a strap-on has very little give. It’s made of rather firm and unbending rubber, which doesn’t help it find its way along the path of least resistance. And secondly, the person it’s attached to can’t feel a thing. Abbi often couldn’t tell if it was in, how deep etc. And being a girl, she was almost as inexperienced in fucking as I was in being fucked.


Which all makes a sense of teamwork and communication that bit more important. For what it’s worth, I can definitely see this as being something that gets more fun the more experienced you get at it. So if the first time is fun but not everything you dreamt of, try again.


  1. On your back is best. Pull your knees up, grab the straps by her side and pull her in. The eye contact is hot and there’s something very sexy about the role reversal as you lay in a position that you’ve put women into so many times.


  1. Yes, it does hurt. It just really bloody stings in an area that you don’t want a hot, stinging sensation. What gets you off is the thought of it, the kinkiness, not the initial sensation.


Having said that, once you’ve started and you don’t feel like you’re going to sustain an injury, go for it. I’d almost given up on it feeling good, until Abbi got me into a position where it slid in, didn’t fall out and she could build up a rhythm. Give it thirty seconds or so and it starts to really build into an alien but hot sensation. Although sadly, it never translated into a feeling that could get an orgasm out of me. If I’m honest, one of you needs to be rubbing your cock for this to go anywhere.


  1. I can definitely see why this is paired with humiliation or power play. I’m anything but submissive, but bearing in mind how important the mental side of this is, it just makes sense to heighten it with mind games and role play.


  1. As a side note, I’ve realised that I clearly have RBF, or “Resting Bitch Face”. Or maybe just Resting Gormless Face, at the very least. As luck would have it, I’ve twice been told that I looked disinterested or confused by something in the past fortnight when the opposite was true. I clearly just have a blank or worried face when I’m concentrating or thinking. So while Abbi fretted over my worried expression, I was simply concentrating on the physical sensations that I was feeling. Again, communication is key…


  1. It’s not for everyone. Like most men, when you realise that something isn’t going to make you come (and it’s not something that’s going to get her off like oral, which I love), you get bored. So eventually I told Abbi that it was her turn to get fucked. The contrast as you go back to something that feels amazing made me realise that this probably wasn’t something I’d need to try. Having said that…


  1. I’m glad I did it. So incredibly glad. It was something I’d wanted to try for a long time and I did. And above all, it put me in a woman’s shoes. I’ve had anal sex with several women, most of who enjoyed it, but you realise how much trust they’re placing in you. Most of the advice above could apply as easily to a woman as a man. I’d go so far as to say that any guy that wants to try anal ought to be willing to be on the receiving end.


And if anyone wants to know about Abbi… Well, she’s exactly as she comes across on Twitter. Just hotter and a bit better in bed than she lets on (seriously). And she tastes delicious…




So there you have it. That’s what he really thought of it.

I thought about taking out those last two lines – but I’ll just argue with them instead. I’m not exactly as I come across on Twitter, I am not one dimensional. This is an outlet for me but it’s not who I am in entirety. Which only serves to prove my point with this ex beau – he only saw one side of me and I think he believes that the above is what I would have wanted to hear.

Abbi is the attention seeking, unflitered, gallery-playing-to side of me. The real me has filters and is (I hope) multifaceted.

But I’m certainly not churlish enough to bother refuting that claim that I taste great. What would be the point….!