One Asshole’s Perspective

I wasn’t always a fan of butt lovin, in fact at one time I avoided or reacted violently to the prospect of anything going near my rear.  Once my fear of anal sex, which was mostly founded as a result of misinformation and a bad experience or two, was overcome new concerns arose.  I would find myself thinking “dang, it feels really good, but there is poop up there…ewww…” or “Hmm…if glycerin stimulates peristalsis, I shouldn’t use lube with glycerin..”  and occasionally “What if I have to fart during butt-sex, or right after?!”

Well, the poop can be circumvented with an enema, but lets face it my hubby doesn’t always give me the 2 hour warning that he might be sticking anything in my butt, so another way to keep things relatively tidy is using condoms for butt love.  As far as gas goes, your partner knows what he or she is getting into, they can deal with it.

I’m getting off track here, sorry.  The anal creampie, the subject that has been occupying an inordinate amount of my mental capacity lately.  Wikipedia defines the creampie as “Creampie, or internal cum shot, is a slang term used in pornography to describe when a male ejaculates inside his partner’s vagina or anus. The term also refers to the visible “seeping” or “dripping” of semen from the aforementioned orifices.”, so now that we’re all on the same page as to what a creampie is, I can explain why it’s been occupying so much of my time.  You see, my husband and I are in a monogamous fluid sharing relationship, and as such he sees no problem in letting a load loose in or on my person, he also has an obsession with my butt hole.  As anyone who has had someone “ejaculate inside” their anus knows, it feels rather odd.  Usually I try to use the bathroom right after we finish, but sometimes I just want to lay and cuddle.  If I decide to cuddle I spend however long it takes for the urge to use the toilet to strike worrying that if I cut the cheese i’m going to soil myself in a manner that will not only leave me uncomfortable and embarrassed but give my husband ammo for skid mark jokes.  Not a very romantic way to spend an evening.

It was suggested to me that if I don’t want to run to the bathroom all night and deal with it that I could sleep on a towel with a box of wet-wipes at the bedside.  A different approach would be wearing a pantyliner or light flow pad to bed, but that could potentially put you at risk for either skin breakdown or a vaginal infection.  Personally I will keep running for the loo after the lovins and try not to break wind for a few hours unless i’m seated on the porcelain throne.

Is there a point to this?  Not really, other than perhaps because I thought it was an amusing subject to drone on about.  I think deep down inside I’m secretly hoping someone else has had the same fear or post pie explosion, and can find comfort knowing they aren’t the only walking about with clenched butt-cheeks and a packet of diaper wipes on their person.