Here’s part of a heartwarming, sensitive and honest article from Alternet about a chap’s first experience letting his wife shag him up the bum with a strap-on:

“…We said nothing for a while, just holding each other tightly. Kathi hadn’t removed the harness, so the dildo was still on her, pressed up against my stomach, a silent reminder of all that had just happened. And what had just happened? The physical act had been one thing, and a weird one at that. But the psychological effects were just beginning to waft in.

All my life I had been the penetrator and even when the woman was aggressive, there was no doubt as to who was doing what to whom. But now, as the one being penetrated, I was on the other side. She’d gotten me to give it up. She’d probed, thrusted, and done any manner of other things, all of her own urging and without much regard as to what I wanted. She had been cool, under control, self-assured, while I’d been emotional, afraid, out of control. And yet, I’d experienced a great orgasm. That was a real trip. My mind had reeled at the experience; and my body had enjoyed almost every second of it. Even the pain (and there was pain) was rewarded in the end by pleasure.

I told her all these things. She told me how she loved being in charge for a change and how great it felt to be able to control me, as opposed to usually being under my control. She said that what really surprised her was how protective she became of me when she realized that I was now vulnerable to her. (Yeah, I thought sarcastically, you really acted protectively.) She said that she felt like she’d conquered me but at the same time wanted to make sure that I was OK. She also said, mimicking a cornerstone on which patriarchy is based, that she felt surprised at how easily I’d let her do what she was doing. I nodded. I was surprised by that too, but a little angry that that was how she felt. After all, I’d just done what she wanted me to…”

Read the full article here.