I was an anal virgin when I met Him. I wasn't a meek girl in my previous life, not in the least, but I had never had anal sex, not even with a long-term boyfriend. I always wanted to in theory, but every time there was a cock pressing at my asshole, I chickened out.
I thought I should have had anal sex by my age. It seemed like everyone and their mother had taken it up the ass, no problem, and I was the only baby left. So yeah, I lied about it to partners and peers, all the while avoiding the big A.
But there was no obfuscation when it came to Him. I couldn't bluff my way through it with him. He's not a schoolboy and I'm not in charge any more. He's a dominant and anal service is de rigeur, expected. It's part of being a submissive that I want and that I finally had to face up to.
So one night while he was talking dirty in my ear, I buried my face in the pillow and told him that I had never had anal sex. He looked almost pleased with himself because he had elicited such a girlish confession from me. He loved the idea that no one had been in my ass before, that I had been saving it for him. That seemed so odd to me since I had spent the past 10 years trying to overcome my sexual inexperience. Suddenly, my one innocence was of considerable value to Him.
He was gentle with me, but he had a plan. He was going to train me, teach me to take him little by little. He'd use everything at his disposal to work me up to his cock - first his fingers, then beads, a plug - until I could learn to love every inch of him in my ass.
The first time, I was curled up with him after coming again and again. He was stretched out behind me, kissing my neck and running his hands over my hips. I coyly scooted back into his crotch and felt his surprising hardness against the softness of my buttocks. I heard a small intake of breath and he paused.
His hands were busy for a moment while he turned away from me, but when he turned back and pressed against me, I could feel that his cock was slick with lube. As he pushed against my asshole, he whispered, "Just the head, Kitten," as if to speak at full volume would break the spell and, with it, my resolve. He pressed firmly, inserting himself only a few inches before pausing to listen to my shallow breaths.
The rest he left up to me.
"Kitten, push back when you're ready," he cooed softly into my ear through my hair. And as he kissed and nibbled on the back of my shoulder, that's exactly what I did. I took a deep breath and felt myself open up for him until I was full.
I could only take a few thrusts that first night and I'm still not trained enough for a good ass-pounding. But I'm getting better every time, taking more of him and pushing past the overwhelming intensity to come harder than I thought I could. He has been so patient, but I worry that his patience with me will eventually run out. How long will it be before he doesn't let me stop when it gets to be too much, when he decides when I've had enough? There's a part of me that is frightened...and then there's a darker part of me that wants my time to run out.