It’s interesting, the whole active/passive/versatile thing. I’ve always liked to mix things up a bit and it all depends on the guy whether I go for ‘leg-spreader’ or ‘arse-stretcher’.

Generally, and this isn’t set in stone, I ‘take’ if the guy is bigger than me and ‘give’ if he’s smaller. Now, I know some guys stay firmly on one side of the equator and never venture to the other side, although it can be very hot indeed. One of these guys happens to be my Ex, Mark. I went out with Mark for some time, in fact he is my longest shack-up to-date, and we are now friends who do each other from time to time (‘fuck buddy’ is such a horrible term). There is something very good about casual, infrequent sex with the Ex; you know it’s only sex, there are no awkward questions about a second date, or the need to spend money on drinks, and you don’t have to feel self-conscious about skipping the gym lately; you both know what works and what you like; it’s like sex with a partner, but better, because it hasn’t got stale through frequency. You might say it does exactly what it says on the tin, or so I thought.

I was round at Mark’s place on Saturday night for a bit of a gathering. There was the usual flirting and sparks between us; it was never this much fun when we were going out. Eventually everyone else left and it was just the two of us; we were both quite drunk and I know I was in need of a cock-fix. What I should now explain is that, for as long as we went out together, Mark never took it in the arse. From fuck-zero onwards, he always maintained some reason or other for not letting me enter him; I remember it started off as some sort of medical problem; so, your ‘versatile’ Blogger was reduced to being ‘perma-passive’. Now, as I said, I enjoy a good arse-pounding as much as the next man, but I always felt half-fulfilled and yearned for the chance to ram my cock into Mark’s arse and give him a serious going over. So, you can imagine my surprise on Saturday night when, after littering our clothes over the floor and with me assuming the passive position, Mark whispered in my ear to “fuck him”! The words seemed to pass through my brain and straight to my cock, which throbbed to attention. This was the opportunity I’d never had all those years, but it threw me a bit. Anyway, I soon had him on his back, his ankles in my hands, my cock opening up his hole (I must say I thought it would be tighter), and enjoyment spreading over his face. He told me to go slow, but I was soon shunting him up and down the bed, his hole sliding right to the base of my cock; it was gorgeous, and then I came, actually came inside him; nice.

We had a bit of a chat about it afterwards; how he had been practicing with his fingers, and then moved on to bigger items, such as his newly acquired dildo. All the time I had to conceal my annoyance that he waits until we are over to explore his passive side. I also resisted the temptation to ask about the box of surgical gloves on his shelf, next to the tub of vaseline. Could it be that my Ex had crossed quite so far over the equator?