Innocence for Days

When I first established this blog, Daddy and I had intended to write it together. That hasn't happened (obviously!), partly because he's demurely insistent that he isn't a good writer, (though he absolutely is), and partly, I think, because he's come to think of this place as my own, a place where he can see some of what I think about this facet of our life.

Occasionally he'll ask me to write about a specific topic. Sometimes this is a simple request and sometimes it's more of an order. He made one such request some time ago -- a week? two? -- and I've been sitting on it ever since. I think I'm ready to address it now, though.

SO! Anal sex! Here we go.

Anal is something I think I've touched (heh) upon here but I'll review quickly. In the past, I've fucked nearly every biomale I've ever been with in the ass -- usually with my fingers or tongue, but occasionally with an appropriate toy or two. Now, it's not like I went into sex with guys thinking, "Gosh, I'm just waiting for the right moment to stick it in!" or anything, but as far as I'm concerned, there's not a lot I won't at least try if my partner wants it and gets pleasure from it. So by the time Daddy and I got together, I'd had quite a bit of experience as the penetrative partner in anal sex.

Receiving is a totally different story, though. I have always found it nearly intolerably painful. Even a single finger -- even a single SMALL finger -- caused me intense pain, no matter how much lube we threw at the problem. Not only that, but as far as I was concerned, I have a pussy and I'd far rather use that, thanks. But I gamely tried it time and time again, especially since I find the idea of having another orifice available for penetration quite hot.

Now, Daddy's past in terms of anal sex was somewhat similar in that he's fucked bioboys before -- even with a strapon, which is something I've not done -- but not as often, I think, as I have. Receptively he was even less experienced than me, however. His previous long-time partner found the idea disgusting and saw fit to mention that fact frequently and loudly. That contributed to his shame about That Area, to the point where he completely buried his real feelings on the matter. It wasn't until we'd become more comfortable with one another that he was able to admit that it's something he's always been interested in.

So with time I was able to discover that he enjoyed it when I took his clit in my mouth and gently penetrated him with a fingertip. I've worked up to an entire finger once or twice but this is something he can't take for long. We'll get there.

With that discovery came the discovery that he really, really wanted to fuck my ass. I wasn't sure how I felt about this. I was certainly willing to try, with the caveat that it wasn't likely to work, but hey, why not? So we did.

At first it hurt. He was gentle but I found anything other than simple massage to be painful, as I always had. I took to laying him on his back, laying my head on his ribcage and jerking him off or fucking him with one hand while he fingered my ass with the other. It gets him off beautifully and one night....it felt good. It felt REALLY good. It felt so good that I had what I can only assume was an orgasm -- it felt different from any kind of orgasm I've yet had but it felt GREAT and left me shaking so I don't know what else to call it.

I don't know if that night was a fluke, but we took full advantage of it. He flipped me onto my back and slipped a finger back into my ass, handing me a vibrator with the other. I turned it on as he penetrated my cunt with two fingers and roughly located my g-spot (which I love, love, love, oh god I love it so much) and placed it against my clit.

20 moments of bliss followed, my body so strung out with desire and arousal so acute it was nearly painful, and I came harder than I ever have before...so hard, in fact, that I ejaculated. That's a major first to me, and one we've been unable to recreate since (though we haven't done that exact thing since...perhaps that's a theory I'll need to test!) but as Daddy put it, one moment his hand in my cunt was slick and the next it was soaked. I'll report back on that for sure.

We haven't been able to repeat that experience (yet) but I hope to do it again because it was wonderful. Since then, it hasn't been as good and in fact, the other night it was downright painful. It's a difficult feeling to describe, especially since I get off on Daddy hurting me...just...not there. It's not the kind of pain I like at all. That's something we'll need to work on.

So we're making a lot of progress on the anal front. Having him inside me like that was actually quite moving for me, as that is the last of my "traditional" virginity. I often wish that he was the only person I was ever with at all, (though of course that would have its own challenges, I'm sure), so it makes me happy that he has that particular part of my sexual experience all to himself.

There are so many kinds of virginity, though, and in all ways that matter, he has mine. I say it all the time in these posts, but only because it's true: he's made everything new for me. I am the luckiest girl in the world.

A is for Anal

So, anal sex. When we got together, both Daddy and I skirted the issue nervously and left it alone for the most part. I had tried it before, a couple of times, but always with little pleasure and more than a little pain. Never more than a fingertip had entered my body, and even then it was just Not Good. Orgasms for me are almost purely mental and if I can't talk myself into arousal (or if my partner doesn't talk to me while fucking me) it just isn't going to happen, and I couldn't coax myself through the pain to any kind of significant pleasure. So I stopped, somewhat regretting that I couldn't just DO IT -- I mean, it looks fun. I like the idea; the thought of having a second orifice available for penetration turns me on greatly. Just, in practice, it didn't work.

On the other hand, I have been the "giver" of anal sex, (oh, I know that is totally not the way to word that but I can't think of a better way to say it right now!) with nearly every partner I have had. I like the way my fingers feel buried in my lover's ass, and I love the intensity of the orgasms that come (heh) afterward. I really enjoy being the penetrative partner, the one to assess the situation and go slowly when it's needed, or faster and harder when it's time. I function very well on that kind of level and it makes me feel extremely connected with my lover. And it makes me feel very...tenderly protective. It's the closest I come to topping, honestly.

As we became more and more comfortable with each other and ourselves when we were in bed together, both Daddy and I gradually admitted that anal was one kind of sex we hadn't been comfortable exploring, but that now we were both curious. In fact, his previous partner had used anal sex as a target of ridicule and made it seem filthy, something of which one ought to be ashamed. (Need I add that they never even tried?) He was even more reluctant to admit his interest because of the mentality that he'd become accustomed to. It took a lot of coaxing on my part to help him understand that I find nothing about him or his body filthy or gross, and never could. Besides, I really do believe that if sex isn't messy, (at least SOMETIMES), then you aren't doing it right!

Earlier this week, I was going down on him, mouth snug against his clit, two fingers working deep inside his cunt, (wet, always so amazingly wet for me), when he asked me to please add his ass to the mix. It pains him to make this kind of request, and I don't actually require that he does it, but since this is such a sensitive issue with him, I am often reluctant to just go for it without knowing it's what he wants. When he made his request my heart swelled with pride for him and, fully aware of the effort it had cost him to ask, I gladly reached for the lube.

It took a little doing, as I was already laying on my stomach between his legs and partially propped up on my elbows, but in a few moments I was able to maneuver my left hand carefully between his cheeks. I stroked there gently, moving my mouth back to his clit and sliding the fingers of my right hand back into his gorgeous cunt. (Side note: I am unbelievably careful about which hand goes where -- I NEVER use fingers on the same hand to stimulate his cunt and his ass at the same time, much less move one hand from his ass to his cunt. I use my left hand for his ass and my right for his cunt, always. I just don't want to transfer any bacteria where it shouldn't go. Totally careful at all times about this.) He was tight -- nervous, I think -- and so I didn't push at all, just gently ran my fingertips over the ridges and valleys of him, feeling the contractions elicited by my fingers in his cunt echo in the twitches of his anus. It was lovely and I was prepared for that to be the extent of our exploration for the evening.

However, I think the sensation of so much stimulation between his legs was what allowed me to accidentally slip one fingertip into his anus after only five minutes or so. He moaned deep in his chest and began to buck against my hands, a huge orgasm washing through his body and shoving my fingers out of both ass and cunt. He is so strong! I hung onto his clit with my mouth, tongue working furiously, and penetrated him again in both holes. Another orgasm, this one complete with his body lifting entirely off the bed and shouts of pleasure that I'm sure were audible to our neighbors. (What do I care? Let 'em be jealous. :)

He begged me to stop then, and I did. His emotional reaction afterward was entirely reasonable; he was shaken by the pleasure he'd felt and still in the throes of "butt-shame" as he calls it. I washed my hands quickly, came back, held him, comforted him, and reminded him that he is beautiful and so his his body.

It's true; his body is perfect to me. It is a source of so much pleasure for both of us, and feeling him come as hard as he did that night satisfies me in a deep, intense way. I love when he lets me hold him, I love to take care of him, and that night brought out my tender, protective side like nothing had before.

He's my Daddy and I love him until the end of time and beyond.

(Soon I will detail my first experience with receiving anal from him. It was...intense.)

Natural

"You're a natural, baby girl," he panted to me, cradling my face in both hands as I raised myself from tonguing him for the first time. He told me later that he wondered for a moment if I had lied and if he wasn't my first. I am still not used to it; not used to thinking of myself as good at this. Somehow I expected that I would have much to learn, that I would need diagrams and books and gentle tutoring.

Is it strange that I was both elated and let down when I was told that I don't? Of course it is a pleasurable surprise to find that you are good at something that you're trying for the very first time, but for me I find that learning, allowing oneself to be taught, can be an act of submission. Admitting that you don't know it all and opening yourself to new knowledge -- I find it erotic. No more so than when he slipped his fingers inside me for the first time and showed me my G-spot.

"Orgasming is a learned behavior for many women," he explained to me as I writhed beneath him, more than a little afraid of the intense sensation he was coaxing from deep inside me, "and you haven't learned yet." I half-sobbed that I thought I was going to pee and recoiled from his touch as much as I could. "You aren't." He thrust his fingers into me firmly and curled them, stimulating me in ways I had never felt before. "You're just going to come for me really hard."

But I couldn't tell; I had never orgasmed like that before. Until I was with him, orgasms occurred only when I was alone, or *maybe* if my partner played with my nipples and gave me a long time to work through the many mental blocks I've set for myself against that simple, explosive pleasure. Coming was a chore, (it can be still), and it meant working my clit alone. I had never had an internal orgasm, as he calls them -- in fact, I never realized that there was more than one way to come.

When it happened for real, for the first time, I cried. It took us over a month and he literally walked me through it, and it was one of the most beautiful times of my life so far. Never before have I had a lover who knew and understood my body so intimately; my body had in fact begun to orgasm from internal stimulation before I recognized what it was, but he could tell by the feeling of my muscles working inside. "Tell me," I'd beg him, and he would. "Now...you're coming, baby," and I learned, slowly, to tell the difference between regular muscular contraction and orgasm. It felt so very different from what I know as a clitoral orgasm.

In the beginning, I was afraid. I thought it would hurt and I found the almost-going-to-pee feeling much too intense and off-putting. So we got me high first, enough so that I could relax and just feel what was going on. Normally I can't turn my mind off enough to enjoy sex, so this was the first time in my life that I really let go of everything that normally holds me back.

The night that I first honestly came, I was high and he had been fucking me carefully and tenderly, talking to me and reassuring me, for nearly an hour. Up until this point, I had slowly become more comfortable with the pre-orgasmic feelings that came from his fingers curling and uncurling inside me. I trusted that I wasn't going to pee on him, but I wasn't able to go from "ok...that feels pretty good..." to actual orgasm. It freaked me out too much and too often I would wrench away from him, distraught by the emotions that came with pushing me so close to the kind of edge I'd never before felt.

But that night, he didn't let me flinch away. "I'm going to fall," I cried to him, gripping him tightly around the neck and breaking into wild tears. "I'm right here and I'm going to catch you, little grrl, so fall. Let go, let go, let go, it's safe, you're safe, just let go..." he murmured into my ear, urging me closer and closer, until I did fall. And he was there to catch me, there to wipe my tears, there to bring me back to myself.

I am such a lucky grrl, to have a Daddy like him.

Cunning linguist

I've mentioned that my boi is the first female-bodied lover I've had but the truth is that I have been queer my entire life. I knew it when I was 5; the little blondie across the street and I were "engaged". I loved her so! But then my mother told me that girls and girls couldn't fall in love and I believed her. My girl-crushes cooled off for a time as I grew up a bit more, but when I was a freshman in high school, I fell in capital-L Love for the first time...with the captain of my all-girl swim team. I didn't know exactly what I was feeling. I just knew that when she was around, I was so much more alive. Butterflies flocked in my stomach, and when she traced her fingers along my inner thigh on a late-night bus ride from one of our away meets, under the guise of "massaging" my leg, I thought I would die if she didn't stop touching me right that second. Or if she did.

But she was a senior and I was a freshman and all too soon she left for college. I remained at school with nothing but rumors of my supposed lesbianism, which were positively soul-crushing to me. Lesbian. It was a filthy word and it frightened me to the core. So I spent the next three years denying the rumors the best way I could: by dating as many boys as possible.

I didn't actually have sex for the first time until I was 18 -- the summer after I graduated high school. It's the same kind of boring tale that so many people have; dark 7-11 parking lot, front seat of my car, wondering if it was in yet and why I wasn't bleeding. It didn't hurt. It didn't feel great. It didn't really feel like much at all, actually. And he was a total loser, as well. I didn't do it for love or because all my friends were doing it. I just wanted to get it over with before I left for college. So as far as I was concerned, sex was messy and boring. I didn't mind doing it but it didn't knock my socks off by a long shot.

College: I screwed around with 5 different guys in the first two weeks and then immediately fell into a long-term relationship with the safest (read: most boring and backbone-less) boy I'd met. And I spent my free time online, reading all that I could about bisexualism (I was willing to admit that I *might* be bi, but not a Lesbian, oh no no no), and every time we fucked I closed my eyes and saw nothing but girls.

I tentatively attended one meeting of the undergrad GLBT club; it seemed like a huge clique, I was terribly shy, and I left as soon as I possibly could. I crushed regularly on girls in my classes but didn't dare hit on one -- what if I was rejected? Everyone knew me as straight. I tried so hard to fit myself to that label that I couldn't even see myself clearly anymore. I was suffocating.

Finally, after a long, long struggle, I admitted to myself that I was queer. And I admitted to myself that I was in love with my boi -- it only took YEARS to get to that point. But he was in a relationship, I was in a relationship, blah blah blah...so I'll fast-forward to a few months ago.

He's female-bodied; so am I. I had had plenty of time to dream about what sex with him would be like. I'd read so much porn that I think I actually exhausted the internet's seemingly endless resources! And yet, there I was, 29 years old and faced with my first-ever real live cunt. Oh. My. God. And what made it worse is that he'd had more than a little experience since he'd been out as queer since he was 15, and out as trans since he was 21. Let's just say he's always been popular with the ladies.

So there I am, in his room, on my stomach, between his legs. My heart was racing, I was dripping with arousal, and I was scared out of my mind. What if I did it wrong? What if I didn't like the taste? What if I hurt him by accident? What if...I was HORRIBLE at it?

But none of my fears changed the reality of his gorgeous pussy laid out before me and I knew that I had best dive in, literally and figuratively. It's what I'd always wanted, after all, and if I was bad at it, I'd learn in time how to please him.

Eyes shut. Tongue out. Breathe. His scent, both new and entirely familiar, intoxicated me. I leaned forward and made contact with his skin, just above his clit. Salty and sweet at the same time -- it was a new taste to me, but not bad at all. Just different than I'd tasted before.

I opened my eyes and panicked for a second. What if I couldn't find his clit? But there it was, just where it should be -- he is blessed with a larger clit than most and I was *so* grateful for it (and still am!) because it gave me the landmark I was looking for. I hesitated, tongue poised...and licked. Gently. No teeth.

Further up the bed, he moaned encouragingly. "A little harder." So I gave him some pressure and licked again. His second moan released something inside me, and suddenly all of my fear was gone. I mean, I HAD one of these myself! I had a good idea of what felt good. All that remained to find out was what he specifically preferred!

As I relaxed, I decided that I would take a plunge (heh) that I hadn't actually planned on trying so soon, and starting at his clit, my first two fingers slid between his inner lips and I began to probe gently for his opening.

And I couldn't find it. Panic returned! What the fuck must he be thinking of me right now? I tried to hurry up but his wetness (oh, he was so so so wet) confused my touch and I was too afraid to push too hard because I didn't want to hurt him. Oh god, this is taking forever... I began licking harder at his clit, hoping to distract him at least, and without even thinking about it, I took the whole thing into my mouth. Pinning it against the roof with my tongue, I carefully began to rub it back and forth. He arched his back and spread his legs further for me -- I was thrilled! It was working!

As his hips began to move, my fingers suddenly slipped into him. I was so relieved! That only lasted a second, because I was immediately overcome by this new, incredible feeling -- the feeling of being completely enveloped by my lover's body. It was so intense that I began to cry, my tears mixing with his slickness and bringing more salt to my tongue.

As he began to come, I instinctively curled my fingers into the tightness in his cunt and that's how I found his g-spot, the existence of which I had questioned until that moment.

Afterward, wrapped in his arms, I told him that it was the most beautiful experience I'd yet had with a lover. And it was, until he taught me to come.