This is an informative piece. If you’re not into anal sex, this is not for you.
If you want to try it, male or female, being the doer or the receiver, this is for you.
by LS Harteveld
A few days ago, an article on VICE caught my attention. Gay Guys: You’re Douching Wrong For someone who opens her 2015-2016 diary with a story called; The Biggie, about the first time successful anal sex, this was irresistible click bait. Especially because I got to see the Dutch VICE version, which had the words anale seks right there in the header.
For years, my gay best friend was my coach when it came to anal sex. Or any sex for that matter. I started confiding in him, when multiple partners had proven to be insufficiently skilled or motivated to take the lead when it came to anal sex, and I was trying to make it work. The first time Damian and me ever spoke about anal sex, was years into our friendship. I had found myself in a relationship where it was an option, again. But I would have to be the one to make it work, again. I would have to initiate, and manage the whole anal deflowering scene, as well as any emotional stuff it might bring up for me, and yet I was STILL willing to give it a go.
That’s how fascinated I was with it.
It didn’t work out though.
I got a lot of information from my friend – about douching/ clearing out and of course lots of lube but I knew that one – but before my partner and me got that far, he bailed out.
Years later I got a bi-sexual partner, who had experience with the clearing out, as well as with the practice of anal sex both top and bottom. And he bought me a simple anal douche bottle that I could use. He knew I wanted to because I had told him about my gay best friend telling me this was best practice in the gay scene. I intended to use the bottle, and to repeat it until the water that came out was clean. Only to end up with diarrhea and a very painful anus. I tried preparing for a second date as well, limiting it to only one enema instead of repeating it until the water was clear. But this date too, I could only have normal sex, and I told him not to go near my tormented back side. And why. And that I’d had enough. I was done trying to be clean, only to end up being anally ruined before the fun started.
And he was sweet and totally fine with it.
We stayed together for a little while longer, and we did do some backside explorations, but not as successful and full-on as I would have liked to. Leaving me very disappointed and frustrated.
My chances turned when I got together with my current lover Big. He nailed it on one of our first encounters. You can read the story here in The Biggie.
The key ingredient for successful anal sex, was not to have a clear anus, but to have a clear lover. Clear in his communication, in his intention, in his desire to do this. I needed a man to initiate, propose, lure me in, comfort me. I needed his faith both in himself, as well as in me, as well as in in US. Faith that we would be okay, regardless of what comes up.
In other words?
I needed an amazingly good and one-hundred percent loving “top”. A guy who knows what he’s doing, and who will stand by you no matter what.
Because that’s the real reason us bottoms want to be cleared out.
Not because we don’t know that technically the first bit of you bum is not a storage area.
Not because we don’t know that 9 times out of 10 you’ll be clear anyway.
Not because we haven’t come up with what the doctor in the Vice article says;
“Just put down a towel and go for it.”
Not because we are super polite and think showering our intestines is part of being courteous.
The reason the bottoms take their enemas and their showerheads up their butt is because we are ashamed of being rejected, after one of the most vulnerable sex acts we will probably ever engage in.
The Vice article explains why from a medical perspective, clearing out is an unhealthy habit. But from an emotional perspective, the prospect is even bleaker.
It’s a sign you’re with the wrong man.
An unexamined life is not worth living