How pegging helps couples connect on a deeper and more intimate level It was a little scary at first, but I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed it, watching his face flush and respond to my thrusting movements.

This is a brave new sexually exploratory world for me — for most people, I assume. My history with sex and sex toys hasn’t exactly been 100 percent healthy, probably like many women’s. When I was a teenager, sex was either a chore done in order to maintain a relationship or a tool used to manipulate other people. I could be very pragmatic about it back in the day. I knew that sex was, essentially, a way to elicit certain hormones that could manipulate a partner’s brain chemistry.

In other words, I very logically engaged in a lot of sex-to-get-what-I-want sex, whether that was to boost my own self-esteem or to convince a boy to stay and have dinner with me. I should note that this was done really shamelessly at the time, as I really thought this was just common sense and how everyone had sex. Society, the media, and my abusive stepfather taught me as much.

It was a while before I enjoyed sex for myself, and not just what it got me. I remember my first sex toy; my friend Amy gave it to me. We met while taking a psychology class at the local community college, and on my birthday that year, she handed me a beautiful turquoise rabbit vibrator with more settings than I ever figured out. My mom cleaned out my closet a few months later and threw it away while I wasn’t home. (She was raised Catholic.)

I bought my own sex toy from a Groupon years later. It was the larger version of the one Amy had gotten me — thick, purple, and ribbed, with two heads. I actually used it so much and so hard that I snapped off the clit attachment. So, yeah. Broke my own vibrator. Look at me now, Mom!

After that, I purchased and experimented with a series of toys, not just on me, but on my partners, too. My boyfriend at the time loved when I used beads or the bullet during sex. And, to my own shock, he began to ask for it.

So let’s talk about the prostate for a second. I feel like it’s often ignored or, worse, ridiculed. I’ve had a series of open-minded partners who were completely comfortable with or asked for prostate stimulation, but every once in a while, I still encounter ones that jump when I talk about it. My most recent ex said to me, “I’m not gay.”

I nodded, consoling him: “Prostate stimulation feels good for everyone. It’s been proven.”

“Not for me. That is a disgusting place.”

“Yeah, but we’d clean. There are douches for this…”

“Stop! You’re being gross. I told you no.”

This really got to me and made me feel like such a dick. I apologized and promised not to bring it up again, of course. I knew that I was right — that if he just tried it, he’d enjoy it, or maybe he wouldn’t, and then at least we’d know. But to not even try it really confused me. But I had to respect it. That guy was frustratingly repressed in so many other ways, which was, unsurprisingly, an element in our breakup.

However, my husband is different than the other men I’ve dated for many reasons. First, he has slept with significantly more men than women. Second, he is incredibly up front and communicative about what he wants.

Third, he’s uncircumcised. He’s from Europe, and in the United States, most penises are circumcised. Before my husband, only one of my high school boyfriends wasn’t. (He also had, by far, the largest penis I’ve ever seen, and I was more focused on that than it being uncircumcised.)

Lastly, my husband was the first guy who allowed me to peg him. I mean, men have asked for a pinky or two up there occasionally, but my husband’s been the first to insist on a whole toy. Every little girl’s dream come true!

We went to a local sex shop together (which is incredibly fun to do with any partner). We got all the necessary equipment, of which there is a lot. That’s definitely most important — get all the right equipment. That includes lots of lubricant, cleaning fluids, and douches. (Cleanliness is not a joke, people.) That also includes the right straps and the correct attachments. At first, we tried to mix and match, but not everything is interchangeable, and not everything fits.

We currently use a SpareParts panty set with an insert space for a dildo, and while it’s technically strapless, which we prefer, it does the same job as a strap-on. We take it on all our vacations. That means, of course, the last time we were at the airport, the TSA agent pulled my suitcase aside and asked me to unpack my bag. With a groan, I explained, no, it’s not a gun, it’s a vibrator, and I pulled it out. To my delight, the agent asked me exactly how it worked, and before I knew it, she had called her coworkers over to observe the devices. (I did eventually make it to my flight.)

Pegging my husband has now become a regular element in our sex life. I knew he would enjoy it, but I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed it, watching his face flush and respond to my movement.

I won’t lie — it was a little scary at first. For a few moments, it was that awkward first-time-having-sex feeling. I strapped in but couldn’t get the angle quite right; he kept saying, “Ow!”; I got a leg cramp; we repositioned like six times. But persist! Past that awkward laughter and hesitation, there’s a great rhythm and timing that made us both feel amazing.

Aside from the obvious, pegging him allows me to physically have the power, to experience what it is like to be in control. (It is significantly different from both being a power bottom and having sex while on top.) It completely changed the dynamic we had gotten used to in the bedroom, which brought us closer together.

Negotiating this new element of our sex life forced us both to be more honest and vulnerable, and surprisingly, it turned out to be as one of my favorite parts of our sex life. I highly recommend it.