Girls are submissive creatures. This manifests in countless ways, but one of the more interesting of them is how, with time, they absorb your kinks. Sex in the beginning of any relationship is pretty vanilla. At their kinkiest, they take on anal and facials after round two or three. Everyone knows that with time, things get more exotic, but what’s more interesting is the phase after the first dive into varsity stuff: the phase where they start to really get off on the varsity stuff. In the beginning, you can tell they aren’t crazy about it all. They go with the flow because they are girls, and in this current year, everyone knows John Stagliano is king.

The gulfs they cross are astounding. “L” was my first experience with this. I’d been chasing after her for a long time, and when she finally relented, she gave me this little speech about how nothing was ever going to go up her ass for any reason at any time. I was infatuated with her, so I agreed. A few months later, she was blogging about how amazing rimjobs felt. A year later, she wasn’t even embarrassed anymore when my cock pulled out of her ass all covered in shit. One of the last times we ever banged, I blew my nose into my hand and used the snot to lube up her asshole to finger-fuck her there with greater ease. Afterwards, she gobbled my fingers clean without the slightest prompting.

“H” was neutral about getting her ass eaten at first. She considered it a pleasant enough appetizer and/or a decent dessert for the first month or two. Then the psychology of it took a leap. She started viewing the act as bestowing her with a unique princess status. Her take became, “I’m so beautiful, so perfect, so worthy of worship, that little boys line up to be my toilet paper. My asshole merits respect—care and affection, even—that’s the extent of my flawlessness.” Then she was really into it.

Far and away the tamest serious bedmate I’ve had was “J.” But even she came to appreciate the less fine things in sex. The first or second time we ever hooked up, she wouldn’t fuck me, so I asked if I could give her a facial and she literally laughed out loud. Then a year or two later, over pillow talk, she brought up how she had never in a million years thought getting a cumshot could be hot, but now, despite herself, she did. It was sexy the way she talked about it. She said she really liked the way my body tensed and my face hardened to concentrate, then the look of delight across my face. Fuck. I still miss her in this weird, gay, unproductive and unhealthy way. Fuck.

You were no exception to all this. You probably refuse to remember this, but the first time I brought up the idea of role-playing, you started crying. I still don’t really get why. It was a whole thing, though. Do you remember that time we fucked after J and I broke up and I stuffed my middle finger up your ass, pulled out, and sucked it off? You looked at me with this look of complete disgust and said with total confidence, “I hate it when you do that.” Yet the last hundred or more times we had sex involved you going ass-to-mouth during some kind of role-playing scenario. Can you even cum without any of that anymore? I ask myself that every now and again. Because I’m an idiot, sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever get back together just because you can’t be comfortably kinky with anyone else. That’s retarded, though, because you’re smoking hot and dudes are disgusting. Fuck.


“Bottom” is an excerpt from Richard Power’s new memoir, Letters from a Heartbroken Pervert. You can purchase the book from Terror House Press here.