My Wife Butt

My Wife Butt
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Dear Debby, my wife loves to
receive oral sex (and give more than usual lately) and lately she seems to like
having her anus touched. I am all for helping her get off and I have no problem
rubbing her rim with a finger while I am down on her. My question is about if
she wants me to take it further and to slip a finger inside her anus or not.
She seems to press (or thrust) toward my finger when I do this but without her
asking me to do it I feel a little uneasy without her permission to go ahead.
She has asked me to lick her there when we are having a really heated sex
session and she really (and I mean really) seems to enjoy it. I have asked her
if she would like to try anal sex and she just kind of laughs it off without
talking about it. Should I just lube a finger and slowly take her to the next
level or wait for her to ask for it like she did with the licking?
Another question is while she is giving me head she slides her hand down and
touches everywhere but my anus and I love the feel of it. I think she would
like to touch it but may be waiting for me to tell her it is OK. I am ready for
her to go there, so is it okay for a man to want his Wife to touch his anus? Thanks.
Great questions! You and your
wife sound like you have a comfortable, explorative, experimental sex life
which means that you are likely to keep things exciting for some time. Good for
you.
As for how to deal with this
issue of teetering on the edge of anal exploration, I would strongly encourage
you to try talking with her about it. It doesn’t have to be a serious or
daunting conversation. Try a lighthearted approach by saying some time, when
you are not in the middle of sex and when you are feeling relaxed and have time
to talk (say, after a favorite show is over and after you’ve just had sex) that
you love your sex life and are enjoying exploring each others’ bodies. Let her
know that you find it hot that she really gets into sex and is comfortable
asking you to explore with a little anal play. Try saying, in your own words,
that you’ve been wondering if she’d enjoy a little finger play down there as
well, and that you’d considered lubing up your finger and slipping it inside
her some time but that you worried about taking her off guard or ruining the
moment if it wasn’t something she wanted.
Because this conversation may be new
to you, and it can involve words and phrases like “anus” and “anal play” (which
not everyone has a lot of experience talking about with a partner, it may feel
a little tricky at first to bring up. But, either way, it’s likely to improve your sex
life. If she says she’s not into it, then cool – now you know and you might add
that if she ever changes her mind, she can feel free to let you know and you’d
be game to pleasuring her that way. And if she is into it, then cool! Using a
little water based lubricant will be helpful ( Good Clean Love and Just Like Me lubricants are, I think, particularly well suited for either vaginal or anal sex) as might
slipping a condom over your finger prior to lubing things up. If you don’t use
a condom, make sure to wash your finger before putting it anywhere else such as
her mouth or vagina. You might keep a damp towel nearby if you don’t want to
get out of bed mid-sex.
As for your own anal play, yes,
it’s more than okay for a man to want his wife to touch his anus! Many men
enjoy anal play. The anal opening is rich with nerve endings and the prostate,
too, is a pleasurable area of stimulation for many men. Some men worry that, if
they like anal play, it will mean that they are gay or bi when all it really
means is that you may like stimulation of that part of your body. And no wonder
– it’s sensitive and ripe for pleasure.
To learn more about anal play and
pleasuring for women, check out my book, Because
It Feels Good: A Woman’s Guide to Sexual Pleasure and Satisfaction . For
tips on more general couples’ exploration, including male anal play, check out The Good Vibrations Guide to Sex (a bit
outdated in terms of the toy department, but still an excellent resource for learning
how to talk about sex and anal play). Enjoy!

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In a great and long marriage my wife needs to paddle my bare butt about twice a year--I got it coming in spades when it has to happen so no argument from me p-I totally deserve it I quick shower bend over hold my shins and she paddles me and it sure hurts Actually it is not embarrassing at all- its just got to be done--I could never in a million years have anyone else know--someone wrote that his mother in law sees him get spanked Wow--to each is own---it works fine for us but it would always have to be a secret---any other guys who get a spanking paddling need it to be just between the two f you???? curious1

My wife tans my naked cheeks over her knee whenever she thinks I need it.

I have recently received punishment spankings by my wife. Every week (at least) am over her knee for a hairbrush and/or bathbrush spanking, followed by bending over and being swatted by various instruments, including a big wooden paddle. My butt is at least red and marked, and usually bruised, afterwards. I absolutely would not want anyone else to know this. If she had a relative like a sister or cousin who could be trusted to keep a secret I would be ok with her witnessing it. It would add to the humiliation, which is an important part of punishment

I know a couple who have told their close friends and relatives that the wife spanks her husband. They keep a paddle and a cane hanging on the wall and their friends and relatives know what they are for. The wife's sister has seen her discipline her husband a few times. If he misbehaves while she is there, his wife makes him lower his pants and underpants and paddles or canes his bare bottom in front of her.

I was in a 12 year marriage where domestic disciple was regular, so yes although a lot more often

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Christine Leeb--Speaker and Christian Family Coach specializing in Parenting and Child Discipline. Founder of Real Life Families --a non-profit organization building better families through free classes and resources. Mother to three awesome (and exhausting) children from whom she shamefully hides brownies. Wife to one patient (and polar-opposite) husband with whom she constantly quotes "Friends". www.RealLifeFamilies.org
'Her View From Home' is the Registered Trademark of Her View From Home, LLC
It was Day 3 of our honeymoon…dun…dun…dun! A day I will never forget. A day I learned what marriage was really about.
It was just three days after our big wedding, our “I Do’s,” our commitment to spend the rest of our lives together. For better or worse. In sickness and in health.
My husband had no idea how quickly I would bank on those vows!
Day 1 and Day 2 of our honeymoon were filled with splashes in the pool, walks along the beach, sunset watching, giant bike riding in the ocean, and seeing each other at our best–our sexiest outfits, our most agreeable moods, and our most fun and adventurous spirits.
On the evening of Day 2, we dined at a gorgeous beach side restaurant. We ate. We drank wine–all while gazing into each other’s eyes as the waves crashed on the shore nearby. It was so romantic. However, the next morning on day 3, I awoke to a gurgling stomach – churning – aching.
I knew that something was going to come out somewhere. It was just a matter of time. NOOOOOOOOOO! Not on my honeymoon!
I wanted to hide my pain. I wanted to pretend all was well so we could go snorkeling and continue being flirty and sexy and enjoying our fairy tale of love and romance and happiness and fun.
I was about to ruin it all with a reality check of “the runs.”
I couldn’t hide it any longer. I had to tell my husband of 3 days that I had the stomach bug. Every 20 minutes throughout the entire morning, I was running to the bathroom and then crawling back to bed. My sexy new spouse was right there. He was getting me sips of water. He was dabbing my sweaty head with a cool wash rag. He sat in a chair next to the bed as I groaned and complained – helping me – encouraging me – being there for me.
As the trips to the bathroom started winding down, all my strength and energy and modesty were gone. I simply quit putting my clothes back on. I quit caring that we were on our honeymoon. I quit caring that I was pooping every 20 minutes in our Honeymoon Suite right in front of my new forever man. I quit caring that I was a mess. I flopped over onto the bed falling face first into the pillows, and I hear my husband of less than 72 hour’s voice whisper to me….”Honey, you have some poop on your butt.”
And I thought I couldn’t feel worse. I didn’t care though. I couldn’t move. I just wanted to die of pain and now, of embarrassment. I was just lying there – hot, sweaty, stinky, naked – with poop on my sun-kissed butt.
Without saying another word, my brand new mate for life went into the bathroom, grabbed some toilet paper, sat next to me on the bed, and——-wiped my butt. Yes, he wiped my butt. Now that’s love!
This moment will forever be known as our “Welcome to Marriage Moment!”
I was mortified, but at the same time, I was given a gift. A gift to see that my husband was going to be there for me no matter what. That he was going to be someone I could laugh with, have romantic dinners with, walk on the beach with, and enjoy the good times with, but he was also going to be someone who would stay by my side when I was at my worst. And that’s what matters most in life and in marriage.
We still laugh together, even after almost 17 years of marriage, as we reflect on Day 3 of our honeymoon. We recognize how much Day 3 prepared us (especially for my husband) for what was to come. He has seen me even more vulnerable, at my most disgusting, at my very, very, very worst. He has been there for the birth via C-Section of our three children. He has been there for countless stomach bugs, flu bugs, cold bugs, and even depression bugs.
He’s been there–by my side–through it all.
It hasn’t been easy. We’ve even been near divorce, but I’m so thankful that we both have been able to move forward, press on, and persevere through some really rough times, tough conversations, and painful moments. We have both grown and allowed God to shape us into the individuals and into the couple that we are today. Through our struggles, we’ve gained strength, wisdom, trust, and confidence in ourselves and in each other. Our marriage gets stronger with every year…with every day.
Even now, on Day 6,052 of our marriage, the honeymoon is well over, but we continue to celebrate those moments throughout our lives that have brought us closer together – more committed to one another – forever. Best friends by each other’s side no matter what comes our way – poopy butts and all!
I have three younger brothers, so I know how crazy and wild boys can be. Lots of falls, cuts, scrapes, bruises, broken bones, and even a couple of head stitches. My husband has two younger brothers. He’d always tell how they used to jump from the banister down two floors onto the glass coffee table. Why anyone would do that, I have no idea. Pure madness and chaos. Right now, I have a little baby boy who’s only seven months, but I know he will probably be just as wild as his uncles and dad. But that doesn’t mean I’m...
Do you ever feel like the whole world is having a party—and you weren’t invited Maybe you worry about being included in the right groups or invited to the right sleepovers. Maybe you envy the relationships you see at school or youth group or feel jealous of the perfect social media posts showing others making memories together. If you’re a teen in 2022, you’re probably well acquainted with the fear of missing out. Knowing or wondering what you’re missing or who is getting together without you can leave you feeling lonely. It can leave you lonely and a little blue....
I remember my teenage self dreaming, hoping, and praying for a life like I have now. Praying for a man to love me, to be loyal to me, to want a family with me, to provide for me, to show me what stability felt like and what it felt like to not ever have to worry . . . and here he is right in front of me. I remember my teenage self dreaming, hoping, praying for a house I could make a home and raise my family in. Here it is right in front of me. But most of...
I like my coffee with hazelnut creamer and a dash of almond milk. I like my coffee cold and neglected on the countertop because I’m busy soothing my new baby boy, the one who has made me a mother. In my long robe and slippers, I pace the kitchen floor and hold my swaddled son close to my heart. When his fussing grows quiet, I can hear the ticking of the big clock in the den. The dawn slowly reveals itself, brightening the kitchen in increments. It’s hard to imagine keeping my eyes open until he’s ready to nap again....
I lean my head in through the window of his van. The first thing I notice is the funny smell. Like cigarettes. And maybe body odor. The second? His tired, wrinkle-lined eyes. They’re dull, lethargic even. My daughter scrunches up her nose. I give her that look and try to hide my own misgivings. But Compassion climbs in the car with me. And as the taxi driver guides the car toward our destination, I ask him about his story. Turns out he’s been driving all night. Till 5:30 this morning. Taking people home who were too drunk to drive themselves....
I was the girl. I was the girl who’d do anything to get high as a teenager. I was the girl who craved love and just wanted to be wanted. I was the girl who wasn’t afraid of anything. I was the girl who stopped believing there was a God. I was the girl who said I would never go back to church. I was the girl who was certain none of it was real anyway because I was wasting my time going places like that. I was the girl who let the heartache and disappointment of this old world...
Baby, I have prayed for you—even before I knew who you would be. I prayed I would be a mom one day when I was too little to know what I was praying for and again when I really thought my body would not be able to carry a baby. I prayed for you. I prayed every day as you grew in my belly that you would be healthy, happy, and strong. I prayed at every doctor’s appointment and scan that I would hear your heartbeat loud and strong. I prayed for your arrival—for you to be safe and for...
Dear Mom, Yesterday I went over to your house. I was hoping you would open the door, but Daddy greeted me with his sweet smile. Yes, he still has a mustache. The one you hate, but I did manage to trim it up for him. I cut his hair too. We talked about you over coffee and waited for you to join us, but you never did. He’s doing his best to do this life without you in it, but his eyes are clouded with memories and mixed with pain. He misses you, Momma. RELATED: I Didn’t Just Lose...
It was Sunday afternoon, and I was loading my grocery cart higher than I ever had in my life. My husband and I, along with our two kids under two years old, had been living with his parents for three months. We moved from our Florida home to look for a house in Georgia, and they graciously took us in. This was the day I loaded
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