Anal

I knew those two hadn’t invited me fishing just for the river. And if I’m honest, I hadn’t said yes just for the river either.

I never imagined that an ordinary Sunday at the river would end with me on my knees in the grass, giving myself to him and begging him not to stop.

I only meant to be nice and carry her grocery bags up to her apartment. She offered me a soda, changed clothes, and left her bedroom door ajar.

I’d watched her for years in ways I shouldn’t have. That night, after catching her with another man, she got into my car not knowing I had secrets of my own.

At six in the morning, with a plate of tacos in my hand, I decided to sit at the table of two strangers who had been watching me for a while.

I thought I controlled everything at home, until the woman I married made it clear who really ruled the three of us.

When he had us go up on the stage and people started betting on what we were wearing under our dresses, I knew the luxury party was no longer normal.

For years I told myself I was the typical straight guy. I was lying. My hand jobs were for the guys in the locker room, and it took me too long to admit it.

I said I had heartbreak just so someone would look at me. I didn’t expect two strangers to take my cure so seriously… or for me to let them.

She was fifteen years older than me, drove a red convertible, and knew exactly what she wanted that night. All I had to do was obey and enjoy it.

I was sweaty and breathless when his voice reached me from behind. He didn’t want to take me to dinner: he wanted to buy my whole night, and I wanted to be bought.

At eighteen I entered medical school with the country’s highest score. At twenty-four I still didn’t know what an orgasm was. This is my story.

She was coming of age, and the entire sanctuary held its breath as she walked naked to the altar where her two mothers waited, ready to initiate her.

He’d been ignoring me for weeks. That night I dressed for another man, and just as I was kissing him at the next table, he walked in arm in arm with a stranger.

What we had was the secret we carried everywhere, but that night, far from the city, we decided to share it with someone else.

I was nineteen and impossibly horny. He noticed it the moment he opened his apartment door, and there was no way to hide what we both wanted.

I agreed to go up to a room with twelve mattresses on the floor, never imagining that by morning I’d leave with more than one man marked on my skin.

I was naked in bed, aching, and he offered to examine me. I had no idea how far he was willing to go to make it stop hurting.

When I opened the door, I was expecting a paper bag and a “good morning.” I wasn’t expecting him to keep looking inside and ask, in a low voice, if I lived alone.

I turned on the system from the office just to keep an eye on the tools. What came up on the screen was my wife taking off her bikini in front of him.