I Pegged My Boyfriend

When I met him, he looked like any other guy. Then he told me he liked getting fucked by women. My brain short-circuited. I’d been watching gay porn forever, zeroing in on the guys, wondering what it would feel like to be the one in charge. Suddenly the chance was right in front of me. I asked—no, practically begged—to take him to bed and show him what I could do. On our third night, the new strap-on came out. I slicked his back and ass with oil, worked a couple of fingers inside to loosen him up, and when he was ready I pushed in. Missionary, eye-to-eye, his legs locked around my hips while I rocked into him nice and slow. He loved every inch, moaning louder the deeper I went. We fucked until he asked for it harder and faster, and I gave it to him until we both lost it. That night still gets me off when I think about it—even though he’s gone, he let me live the fantasy I’d kept to myself for years.