That night in Verona, I experienced something I’ll never forget — anal with two men that awakened a new kind of pleasure in me: deep, overwhelming, and completely addictive.
I had come for a few days — to change the atmosphere, show myself to new clients, and honestly, to let my body rest a little in a different city. I rented a nice little apartment in the center, with a big bed and a comfortable shower — just how I like it. I worked as usual: photos, chatting, waiting. Nothing suggested that the night would be special.
He wrote to me in the afternoon. Short message, confident tone, the way men write when they know exactly what they want:
— We’re two. We can be at your place in half an hour.
I asked:
— Both active?
— Yes. Don’t worry. One is big, the other average.
That was enough for me. I thought, fine, I can handle it. I’ve done so much already — nothing really scares me anymore.
When they arrived, I knew right away this would be intense. Both were good-looking, clean, obviously experienced. They moved with calm confidence, like they already knew I’d be just what they needed. I let them in. We barely spoke. They took off their shirts, and one of them kissed me, pulled me by the waist, and started caressing my back. My body reacted instantly. I get turned on when they come in with intention — no games, no small talk.
The first one to fuck me was the one with the “normal size” dick — around 17–18 cm. For me, that’s just right. We started slow, standing against the wall, then I laid on the bed, raised my ass, and he slid in. It was smooth, pleasurable. I was moaning softly, enjoying it. I felt him filling me, moving inside, and with each thrust my body softened, opened more. I melted into the rhythm. He was gentle, attentive, and I didn’t want it to stop.
When he pulled out, I took a breath. And then came the second guy. He was already holding his cock in his hand — and when I saw it, my whole body tightened. It was huge. Much bigger than I expected. Thick, long, and hard. I looked at it, then up at him — he smiled like he could read my thoughts. I said:
— Slowly. Very slowly, okay?
He nodded, came behind me, I got on all fours and spread my cheeks wide. He placed his hand on my lower back, gently stroking my skin like he was calming me down. Then I felt the head of his cock press against my hole, and I held my breath.
He really did go slow. I could feel my ass resisting, but little by little, with his patient pressure, I started to open. Millimeter by millimeter, he pushed in. When he was halfway in, I moaned out loud. It was intense — but so hot. I whimpered, groaned, begged — not from pain, but from the overwhelming sensation. He was stretching me open, and I loved it. He moved slowly, like savoring every second. When he picked up the pace just a bit, I couldn’t even speak anymore — just moan and lose myself. Eventually, he came — all over my back. I felt the warmth of his cum dripping between my shoulder blades. I was still on my knees, trembling, open-mouthed, breathing hard, completely used and completely satisfied.
I turned on my back. Soaked, hot, eyes glossy. Then the first guy came back. His cock was still hard, ready, and without a word he slid back inside me. I exhaled, and… lost control.
He was a real lover. He moved with intuition. Sometimes slow, almost still, sending me into a trance; other times deep and fast, making me moan and arch my back. He touched my body — my belly, my chest, my neck. He used me like an instrument, pulling moans, gasps, trembling from me. And then, at one point, I felt my body start to shake. First my legs, then stronger — my chest, arms, stomach. I didn’t understand what was happening.
And then — an explosion. A real explosion, like a flash inside. My whole body tensed, I screamed, and felt my ass clench, then release in a wave of pure pleasure. It was an anal orgasm. A real one. I wasn’t touching myself. I was just lying there with him inside me — and I came. Like a woman. Like a whore. Like a sissy. And it was a hundred times stronger than any male orgasm I’d ever known.
I lay there, tears in my eyes, mouth open, gasping. The first guy was stroking my cheek and smiling.
— You liked it? — he asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t even speak.
— I could tell, — he said. — You were shaking all over.
Then I lay there in silence for a long time. And then I laughed. Loud, almost hysterically. Because I realized: I had changed. There was no going back. That orgasm wasn’t just anal — it was a rebirth. I couldn’t think the way I used to. I couldn’t want the same things. Now I wanted only that. Only that kind of pleasure. Only that feeling.
I remembered how I used to jerk off, how I came like a man — fast, predictable, always with a hint of sadness after. But now I knew: the real pleasure is this. In surrender. In being opened. In being filled to the edge and shaken to tears, to laughter, to the whisper: “again… I want it again…”
Now I’m different. My body is different. I felt something change deep inside me. And I knew: I will chase that orgasm again. I will offer myself, open myself, prepare myself — just to tremble again with a stranger’s cock inside my ass and feel that this is who I truly am.
Anal orgasm is my new religion. My weakness and my power. My truth.
