accidents happen

“I mean, accidental anal definitely happens. I can tell you way worse stories than this one.”

“At least there was lube? I have had some seriously bad encounters sans lubrication that were totally a freak accident.”

“You know he didn’t mean to do anything forceful or wrong, so it’s all good. In fact, now it’s funny. But for twenty minutes it was decidedly not.”

The above are quotes from the friends to whom I have told this story in person. All of them giggled when I got to the “punchline,” but I know Jamie doesn’t find it funny. I unfortunately have to break with him in a rare moment of disagreement. I think everyone has had an ultimately hilarious sex mishap. What I think sets this one apart is how starkly it placed in relief the intensity of our feelings for one another.

I have had lazy lovers. I have had inattentive lovers. I have had indifferent lovers. Jamie is none of these, and yet we found ourselves at the awkward end of an honest sexual mistake. Hey. Even the professionals have an off day.

++

Jamie likes to play with expectations, which is one of the reasons I love him so much. I don’t always know what to expect from him but until very recently I have always enjoyed everything he has imagined. When he ties me down and has his way with me there isn’t a worry in my mind. When he pulls out a toy I know he knows how best to use it to tease the absolute most ecstasy out of me. I trust him completely and in a way I have never trusted another lover. I know he has my best interests and complete pleasure in mind, and that everything that makes me happy makes him even happier. Until the other night, we had a 100% success rate with his sexual surprises.

This is the story that brings the average to 99%.

It’s not like I wasn’t prepared for some sort of anal play. He had reached for the oil and I had started my half-hearted protests that almost always lead to acquiescence. He had already poured it on me and slid his thumb into me gently, opening my ass as he fucked my pussy. (Jamie is exquisitely coordinated.) I was starting to warm to the idea of anal and he hadn’t even asked me three times if I wanted it yet. We seem to have an unspoken rule – he’ll ask, “are you sure?” at least three times if I say no to anything, knowing that usually by the second time I will have changed my mind.

(For the record — and I hate that I even need to disclaim this — I am changing my mind in those situations because I want it, and no, he doesn’t complain or force anything if I decide that no, I really don’t want to do the thing he is asking to do, because he is not a jerk. He just knows me well enough to know that sometimes I want something before I know I want something.)

We might have been drinking a bit that night. I might have been presenting myself to him, becoming aroused at the idea of him enjoying my ass. After all, we’ve had lots of anal fun. What would make this evening any different? Jamie might have already been fucking me pretty roughly and quickly from behind. The lighting might have been pretty dim. There are so many variables that could have contributed to what happened next.

Jamie pulled out of me on a fast out-stroke and I sighed with a bit of disappointment.

Then I felt the most searing pain I have ever felt during sex as his cock swiftly slipped, full bore, into my ass. I was too surprised to say anything for the first two strokes. Then I came to my senses.

“Ow, ow, Jamie, fuck, no!” I exclaimed, and he reflexively shushed me, I guess to keep the neighbors from wondering if I was dying. My rectum was on fire and full, so suddenly full of him. I felt a sudden sense of deep betrayal. In one confident thrust he had pushed his entire cock into my ass, and in one confident thrust I bucked him off of me, pushing him away violently.

“What did I do?” Jamie asked, completely bewildered. “Dude, you were in my fucking asshole!” I hissed before jumping up, standing beside the bed. His bewilderment was even more extreme as I stomped off to the bathroom and semi-slammed the door behind me.

I just stood there for a moment and fumed. I could hear him trying to say something but his voice was too soft to make out over the sound of the bathroom fan. What a dick, I thought. Is he really too drunk to realize he needed to move more carefully and slowly? Did I say something that made him think I was ready? What the fuck. My ass was on fire. After a few moments in the bathroom composing myself – and mentally composing the withering remarks I would make to him – I opened the door.

The look on Jamie’s face was one of absolute horror and sorrow. I had never before seen a naked man look so sad. “Soph,” he started, “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize I was in there. I wasn’t even planning to go there, I was just playing around.” He looked like someone had killed a puppy in front of him. Or maybe like he was afraid I was about to end things with him. All the anger I felt completely melted away, my frown softening and my brow smoothing.

“Wait,” I said, crossing my arms over my breasts. “You didn’t know you were in my ass?” I felt like a complete drama queen, having gotten overly upset at him before I knew what was actually going on, having expected the worst from a man I have called “the best person I know.” I was immediately embarrassed at my assumption.

“No!” he exclaimed, “absolutely not. I was just going and going and I guess I came out and just – went in, thinking I was in the right spot.” He looked down at his lost erection. “I am never playing with your ass again. I am pouring out all the rum. I am never drinking again.”

“Pssssssh,” I scoffed. My disappointment had turned to deep amusement. I sat – well, actually, kneeled, I couldn’t exactly sit yet – on the bed next to him and ruffled his hair. “You’re not pouring anything out. I had no idea. I thought you were trying to assert your dominance in a completely out-of-character way. Well, for you.”

Jamie looked back at me, his clear green eyes wide and sad. “I don’t ever want to hurt you. Not in any way. Especially not doing something like that. You deserve perfection. That was not perfection.”

Jamie’s obvious sadness at having hurt me made my heart swell. I cupped his head in both my hands, kissed his brow, kissed his crow’s feet — I love his crow’s feet — kissed his lips. “Physical pain is temporary. I’ll get over it.” Our lips met again, tongues teasing the other’s, gentle and sweet. “I love you,” I said, and meant it. The look he gave me when I came out of the bathroom was a strange love letter written across his face. “I could never harm you,” it had said. “I always want to protect you, to please you, to make you feel loved,” it had said.

I had been standing for a moment – because sitting was a bit too painful a proposition – and finally had a thought that made me laugh out loud. Jamie, while feeling better, was still a little sensitive, and gave me a puzzled glance. I shrugged.

“Hey,” I giggled, “If you couldn’t tell the difference between the tightness of my pussy and the tightness of my ass, then I guess I should be pretty flattered.”