I Love Anal Sex

I love anal sex. I love to watch it, read about, and especially have it. You could say I’m an anal fanatic so when I find a woman willing to give her ass to me I know I’ve found something special. As I’m sure you know, not every woman today lets a man stick his big, hard cock into her tight little butthole, but thanks to porn and the growing depravity of the world, more and more women are curious and willing to give it a try. Some take to it like a fish to water, some, once they’ve had it, prefer it over vaginal sex… that’s the kind of woman I can get behind (pun intended).

I’ve discovered it’s usually the middle aged woman. Women that have been married and divorced. See, what I think happens is the marriage and sex gets boring so they experiment and dabble in a little anal during their marriage and get a taste for it. Then, life happens, the marriage doesn’t work out and they find themselves single and for some reason horny again. They remember the anal… that’s the sex that they remember having with their x-husbands… for some reason it’s the most memorable… maybe it’s because of how he acted, how it made her feel… the taboo, the excitement… but they remember it.

So they find themselves single, horny and ready to get themselves back out there. Maybe have even started going to the gym, tightening up that thirty something body that’s popped out a couple kids already. They start losing the flab, getting their bodies back, seeing good things in the mirror after six months to a year after the divorce. They start to think, “I’m hot… I’m a catch now… my stupid x-husband will be so jealous when he sees me again, oh and man I’m horny, I need a good hard cock!”

Next thing they know they are out on the town the weekend their x-husband has the kids. All dolled up in their new skin tight, short mini dress trying to blend in with the 20 something’s at the clubs. I can spot them a mile away. Tonight it’s a blonde, on the edge of the crowd, trying to dance like the younger girls but failing miserably. She realizes it after a couple more songs and I watch her try nonchalantly to work herself out of the crowd to the bar. She sits down, orders a drink and looks around, hoping someone will come by and offer to buy her a drink. I let her sit until her drink is gone, the doubt shows on her face. I begin to wander my way toward her, making sure she can’t see me yet.

She’s about to leave, probably thinking to herself what a fool she is to come to a place like this at her age. Just as she stands to leave she turns and almost bumps into me. She has to raise her head to look up at my face and as she does her eyes widen slightly and she suddenly can’t speak. She mumbles an apology before trying again to leave.

“No need to apologize, it was my fault,” I say, catching her eyes again and keeping her planted to her spot.

She’s speechless again.

“Name’s Jordan,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Umm. Sam… Samantha,” she stutters.

“Can I buy you a drink, Samantha?” I ask.

“Umm… what? Me? umm, sure… I guess,” she says, totally discombobulated.