So I went through with it, making all the classic first-time bottoming mistakes: I didn’t “clean” prior because I had no idea how, and the whole time he was inside me, I clenched for dear life. He asked early in the relationship if I would bottom, and when I told him I didn’t want to, he never asked again. I also respected him for never being pushy. I felt like a crummy partner for not returning the favor. After a few months, I decided I wanted to bottom for him. That was until I started dating this guy who mostly topped. I didn’t want to deal with any of that awkwardness, so I didn’t bottom for years, even though there were guys begging me to try. Even though I often act more feminine in my everyday life, I liked knowing that I was the “man” in bed.Īnd then (can I be frank here?) I’d heard horror stories from friends about accidentally “letting loose” on a guy they liked. I felt empowered being the one thrusting. I had also begun to embrace my identity as a “top.” Inherent to how I perceived this identity - though I didn’t realize it at the time - was the notion that top equates masculine. I know it might sound absurd - given that I’d seen firsthand the immense pleasure my partners experienced from anal penetration.
Even though I had topped a number of guys, I was convinced that bottoming was going to be pure torture. I was terrified of bottoming before I tried it.
