Straight Men Love Anal

My heart pounded in my ears as I sat nervously in the workshop room. Around a dozen men sat around me, perched awkwardly on plastic chairs, waiting for the tutor to start. The soft throb of music pounded through the walls from the gym, and the accompanying clanking of weights and pounding of feet gave a slightly frantic backdrop.

I looked around at my surroundings. Fake floorboards lined the floor, the walls painted a mauve colour, perfect for the yoga classes that would usually go on in this room. The world outside was obscured by a lacy drape over the window.

An urn sat on a portable table in the corner with some instant coffee and cheap biscuits. I clutched a cup of the hot liquid in my hands. It had seemed like the best way to conquer the awkwardness of walking into a room of people I didn't know, but now I was stuck with a drink that I didn't really want.

The final participant entered the room through the change room and showers attached to 'Group Room C' and took his seat.

The facilitator looked around the room finally, nodding to himself.

"Right then," he said, definitively. "Let's get started.

I looked down at my sweaty palms and wondered how it was that I would think this a good idea. The ad had come through on my Twitter feed of all places. Obviously, my porn search history was leaking into my algorithms, but it's wording caught my eye.

"Straight Men Love Anal" was its catchy beginning. I nearly scrolled past the sponsored post, but the wording filtered into my mind, and I returned to read the post.

"We know straight men love anal sex, but at best get it once a year on their birthday. We've cracked the code to getting as much anal sex as you want without paying a sex worker, and we can teach you our formula. Click on the link and check for a workshop near you."

I'm not sure if it was the lack of sex lately, with my girlfriend working away for the month, or the 4 beers floating around my bloodstream, but against my better judgement, I clicked on the link and found myself on their website.

It looked glossy and professional, lots of still shots of straight anal porn, faded but visible just enough to catch your attention. Testimonials flooded the page. Apparently, lots of men now fucking all the arse they'd ever wanted using their simple formula.

Anal sex had long been a fetish of mine. It featured heavily in my porn rotation, and in my spank bank, but in terms of experience, I had only ever managed it a few times. Most of my girlfriends had been a definite 'No' and the few that had been willing, had only let me try the once. It had seemed like such a big favour, that I found it hard to relax and didn't even enjoy it that much, worried that they weren't into it.

I longed for my current girlfriend to be as into it as I was, but she hadn't even let me in there once.

Sceptical, but interested, I read on. Apparently 3 workshops over 3 weeks were all I needed to become an anal god, for the mere price of $300. Of course, as luck would have it, a course was about to run just 50km away, starting next week!

I shook my head at my gullibility and shut the computer. Clearly a scam, I thought to myself. Who would even fall for that?

But the thought wouldn't leave my mind that night, and I lay awake wondering if it really could sort out my sexual woes.

I got up the next morning, resolved to do some basic due diligence.

First up, a phone call. Checking the website again, I looked at the number for the workshop near me. It seemed like the right area code. I called, expecting to hear the pause and click suggesting a phone bank, but it rang a few times, and an average-sounding voice answered.

"Barkley's Gym, how can I help?"

Taken aback, I fumbled my words a little. "Oh, ah, I was, ah, hoping to book into the Tuesday night workshop next week." I managed to get out, blushing furiously.

"Oh sure. The men's group one?" He replied nonchalantly. "I'll just check if there's still space. It's been a popular workshop that one."

He paused for a moment, a few clicks on a keyboard. Some voices and music in the background seemed to confirm the gym venue as he claimed.

"Yep, all good. Was it just the one spot you were after?"

"Yes," I replied. "Just me."

"No worries, mate, just need your first name and phone number for the booking."

"You don't need my credit card or anything?" I asked, a bit surprised.

"No, this one's a private class, we just manage the booking. You can either pay on their website or just pay up on the night."

And with that, I was all booked in.

I thought about it constantly over the week leading up to the course. On the one hand, I was sure it was a scam. I'd rock up, pay and find that there was nothing actually to it. On the other hand, I couldn't let go of the possibility it was actually going to help me as it described.

But before I knew it, the week rolled by and the workshop night arrived. I turned up to the designated address. The guy on the front desk directed me down the hall to 'Group Room C'. The facilitator sat at a little table by the entry, and greeted me as I walked in.

He looked nothing like the Russian hacker I'd imagined in my mind's eye. He sat comfortably in the chair, his chinos and polo shirt fitted but not too tight. He was the kind of guy who immediately won your trust, who always had a group of people around him at a party. The guy who always somehow left with the hottest girl.

"Pleased to meet you, Keiran." He smiled warmly as I gave him my name. "Hope you enjoy the workshop."

I gave him my money without another thought, and so, found myself sitting nervously on the plastic chair.

The facilitator looked around the room, smiling.

"I know this look." He said, seeming to look us each in the eye all at once. "You're all wondering how you managed to get yourself into this. Wondering how you ended up in a gym on a Tuesday night, with a room full of other guys, talking about sex.

"Let me reassure you, you're all feeling the same. I've run these workshops probably 50 times now, so I have a bit of experience. Trust me when I tell you, it'll all get easier, and you'll be so glad you came."

Everyone seemed to take in what he said, looking around the room at each other, weighing and evaluating. It was a primal instinct, deciding where we fit in the hierarchy. Were we in competition or were we a tribe.

The facilitator continued.

"My name's Tom, and I'm a sex therapist by training. I've been talking to men about their sex lives for around 20 years now, mostly in a one-on-one setting. In recent years, I began to realise that wasn't enough. Men were struggling to have their needs met, and our education system, our very culture was letting them down.

"No-one teaches us how to have sex. It's an absolute travesty. We never learn how to do it properly!"

A murmur of dissent went around the room at this. No one wanted to be told they didn't know what they were doing in the sack.

"No really," Tom went on. "Think about it! When did you ever learn how to pleasure a woman? Who told you what to do? Maybe you were lucky and had a partner early on who showed you the ropes. But if you didn't, you were on your own! Our whole culture tells us we don't talk about sex. When we do, it's just to brag to other blokes and tell them how good we are at it!"

A few nods were spreading around the room.

"We're taught, by porn, by movies, by culture, that a real man just shoves it in, fucks hard and then cums. If he's really good at it, he fucks hard for a long time, then cums. We're never taught what good sex feels like, or how to do it so your partner can't get enough of you and wants to fuck all the time!"

He was winning the crowd over now.

"Porn is the biggest culprit. Nothing but videos of guys slamming their women hard and the women moaning and cumming like their pussy's not being destroyed. And we wonder why our own wives and girlfriends act like it's a huge favour when they let us fuck them."

I was nodding myself now. He was dead right! I didn't have the faintest clue what I was doing in bed. I tried my best, but my girlfriend hardly ever came when we fucked.

"Now anal sex, that's something else entirely." His voice went a bit quieter now, so we had to lean forward a little to hear. He had us entirely in his grasp now.

"We're conditioned to believe anal is just something we get as a favour if we're lucky. If our girl is super generous, maybe on our birthday. Perhaps they'll let us put it there once a year if we get them something nice.

"This right here is the biggest barrier to anal sex. Anal sex hurts, and if they let you do it, they're doing you a huge favour.

"What if I told you the secret? Right here in the first workshop! The secret is...anal sex should feel good for both of you."

He paused waiting for this truth bomb to filter through the room.

"Arses are full of nerve endings. Being penetrated stimulates them. If you learn how to do it properly, anal sex can feel aMAZing! And once you've managed that, your girl will be begging for you to fuck her arse."

The room hung on his every word. An aura of excitement circulated. My own cock stirred as I imagined the implications of endless anal sex. Could it possibly be true?

"Now, don't get me wrong. Anal sex can be enjoyable, but it needs some work to make it that way. You can't just ram a cock in there, fuck till you cum and expect her to be moaning in ecstasy. It needs finesse and skill, and these are the things you'll learn in these workshops."

Tom took a sip from the glass of water next to his laptop and paused a moment.

"First though, I have to explain a few things about these workshops." He looked at us one by one, gauging our reactions. "These workshops are a bit...unorthodox to say the least. This first session is pretty tame. We're going to cover some anatomy and physiology, information about sexual response, some detail about safety and hygiene."

We nodded along, not surprised by his outline.

"Next week though, things will change a bit. For this, you'll need some flexibility, and some willingness to test your boundaries. It's likely we'll be covering ground you've never explored before.

"You need to know before we proceed that there will be some nudity, and some participatory aspects to the class. This is a class about sex, and so that means you will be participating in some sexual activity."

My cock jumped with excitement at the thought. Was he going to bring in women for us to try out our skills on?

"Of course, none of this is mandatory. You're free to leave at any time and you'll be refunded if you decide not to come to the next workshop. You're not obliged to participate, but at the same time, we can't just have onlookers, so not participating means you'll have to leave.

He paused again and looked around the room. You had to hand it to the guy. He was a master at this. We were eating out of the palm of his hand.

"So, I guess this is the moment." He seemed to hold my gaze as he continued. "Now is your chance to leave if this doesn't sound like your kind of thing. If you head off now, I'll give you a full refund, no questions. But, after this point, there won't be any refunds if you don't come back.

"No prizes for pulling out late!"

The double entendre seemed to break the tension a little and a chuckle circulated the room. Everyone looked around at each other, wondering if anyone would get up. I tensed, ready to stand if the consensus seemed to be to leave. I didn't want to be the only one left. I somehow needed the anonymity of the group.

The moment passed and everyone remained seated. The collective sigh was audible. We were in it now.

Tom smiled. "Thought so." He said. "Sometimes you can just tell when you've got a good group."

The lesson really kicked into gear from there. Tom ran through an initially dry lecture about male and female anatomy, sphincters, vulvas, prostates and erogenous zones.

Just as the energy started to drop though, the slideshow got interesting. A series of pictures of female anatomy ensued, largely derived from porn, showing women in their full anatomical glory. Using the images, he talked through the different body parts he'd described. I cast my mind back to high school sex ed and chuckled to myself imagining it being taught like this.

The crowd was noticeably shifting in their seats as various erections sprung up around the room.

"Now, it's nearly time to wrap up." Tom jumped in, ignoring the tension developing. "But before we go, a little homework for next week."

I moaned a little internally, dreading the expected research project, or worse, group presentation that had been the bane of my existence in other learning settings.

"Don't stress, it's pretty easy. Your task is just to get to know your own body a little more. Most guys never look at their own arse, but it's important to know yourself if you're ever going to get good at this stuff."

He was dead right. This was a part of my body that I never even tried to look at. It got a quick wipe in the toilet, and a wash in the shower, but that was about as much attention as I ever paid it.

"I want you to pick a quiet night, set up a mirror so you can look at yourself. If you're a bit on the hairy side, give yourself a quick (but careful) shave so you can get a decent look.

"Then, I want you to snap a quick photo and zoom in properly, so you can really see how your arse looks. Arseholes are as beautiful as any other part of your body, and they get a bad rap.

Seemed fair enough. A few of the guys looked a little uncomfortable at the thought, but no one outwardly objected.

"Finally, I want you to post the photo onto the anonymous site I've set up."

A murmur of protest rumbled around the room.

"Don't stress, it's just for next week's lesson. Your pictures go in anonymously. Even I can't tell who posted them. I'm the only one with access to the site. It's an important part of getting comfortable with your body.

"Now, one more housekeeping thing for next week's session. I mentioned before that there'd be some participatory parts to the classes, so when you arrive next week, come in through the showers first and have a good, thorough wash on your way in. You might want to arrive a couple of minutes early so we can still start on time."

And with that, the first of three classes wound up.

*************

When I woke the next day, the whole thing seemed a bit of a blur. When I was in the class, listening to Tom talking, it all seemed so rational and obvious. Here in my own space though, the thought of talking so openly in a room full of other men just seemed so foreign.

With that said though, I resolved to do the 'homework' task quickly to get it out of the way. With my girlfriend away with work, I no plans on the Wednesday night and so decided to go right ahead.

I got home from work a little late and ate some leftovers that I'd frozen for the weekend. I stripped and got into the shower, washing myself carefully, paying more attention to my arse than the usual cursory wash.

Having never really paid attention before, I noticed with interest the different sensations as I rubbed the soap carefully around my hole, feeling the muscle flex as I stimulated the sensitive tissue.

I rinsed and dried off thoroughly, and walked back to the kitchen naked, searching in my shopping bag for the new razor I'd bought just for this task.

I returned to the bathroom, and after a bit of experimentation, found a position that was going to work; I half-reclined against some folded towels on the floor, legs spread wide and resting on the edge of the bath. A mirror resting against the bath gave me the perfect view of this never-before-examined part of my body.

I looked at it with a new sense of curiosity. I was not a particularly hairy bloke. A light fuzz on the cheeks of my arse thickened in my arse crack to a denser scrub of dark hair. A ring of coarser, curly hair surrounded my butt hole.

I looked at it carefully, my hands parting my arse cheeks to improve my view. It was puckered, but otherwise unblemished, the soft, pink skin surrounding it giving it a delicate appearance. It was far from the gross, taboo body part that I'd always imagined.

I tensed my arse muscles, watching as the thick, muscular sphincter tightened and released, the hole winking at me.

Reaching for the shaving cream, a gave it a shake and squirted a small amount onto my fingertips. I watched in the mirror as my fingers smeared the cool cream along my crack, running rings around my delicate hole.

I applied it slowly, breathing deeply as the smooth cream lubricated my massaging fingers. I was surprised by how good it felt.

Experimenting for a moment, I slid one finger across my opening, and back again, circling the twitching muscle as a soft moan escaped my lips. My cock twitched, resting against my flexed belly, and a glob of clear precum leaked from me slowly.

I stroked my hole again, my eyes closing involuntarily, as I let out a long, slow sigh. My finger circled my hole, stroking me gently before resting directly over the opening. With the slightest of pressures, I tested the muscle strength, the lubricated digit ever so slowly advancing in through the tight ring.

I relaxed the pressure, circling around my hole with the cool cream once again. With each lap, I crossed the centre of my hole, my finger lingering just long enough to slide slightly through the tightened muscle.

It became easier as my hole became wet, the muscle learning to relax. Without really knowing what I was doing, my finger pressed more firmly against the gentle resistance, sliding easily inside to the first knuckle.

A soft, low moan emanated from my throat as I squeezed down on my own finger. My arse was suddenly the centre of pleasure, my cock and balls just a distraction.

A passing siren seemed to break the spell, and I shook myself, suddenly shocked at what was happening. I stared in the mirror at the finger half embedded in my arse as if it were someone else's. I pulled it out and wiped it on the towel beside me.

Trying to ignore the raging boner pressing into my belly, I wiped the shaving cream from my hands and carefully shaved the hairs away from my hole and crack. I pretended not to notice the warm fire that spread through me as the razor slid cooly across my sensitive skin.

I grabbed hold of my phone, being careful to focus it only on the area immediately surrounding my butt hole and snapped a couple of pics. I flicked through them carefully, relieved when I could see no signs of my unexpected self-penetration.

Keen to forget what had just happened, I had a quick shower again before anonymously submitting the photo to the course platform as requested and tried to put it all behind me.

************

I arrived at week two of the classes with a mixture of apprehension and nervous anticipation. The first week had been quite eye opening, teaching me things about my body that I hadn't even contemplated. This week was bound to break new ground.

I arrived a little early as recommended, following the instruction to enter through the change rooms first.

I walked into the steamy room, surprised to see two thirds of the class already there washing up. I stripped naked, grabbing my soap and towel and walked over to the showers.

The press of naked men should have been familiar in this context, after years of gym and sport, but somehow it seemed different this time, knowing we were about to sit down in a class about sex.

An air of subtle tension seemed to flow through the room, the usual male bravado and comradery was more muted.

I stepped into the warm shower, the water flowing over my skin sending pleasure rippling through my core. I reached over and grabbed my soap, rubbing it over my skin slowly, lathering up and rinsing off.