Behind Closed Doors: “Up in the Air,” To Anal Douche or Not to Anal Douche?


Members of College’s queer community debate merits of anal douching, make recommendations based on personal experience

“Anal douching unnecessary, uncomfortable, alternatives should be considered”

By: “Phillip Maibut” // Behind Closed Doors Columnist

As a gay man at the College of William and Mary, I’m constantly inundated with questions from my straight friends about anal sex. Through suppressed giggles, they curiously ask if it hurts (yes) and if it’s enjoyable (also yes), acting like I’m revealing secrets from the “Kama Sutra” even though a simple Google search would suffice.

However, the largest query I hear from my heterosexual friends surrounds the tradeoffs between anal’s sexual pleasure and the act’s unenviable processes of cleaning, preparing and loosening. Granted, if not properly prepared for, anal can be an uncomfortable, embarrassing and sensually unpleasurable experience — and taking time to clean yourself is an imperative step of any fun jaunt downstairs. But when recently chatting with another queer man about his pre-anal prep, I found myself completely shocked when he looked at me with disgust mid-conversation.

“You don’t douche?” he screeched in horror. “That’s disgusting!”

His response exemplifies a prominent rift in the community of bottoms — which in gay terminology denotes people who receive during penetrative sex — and demonstrates an astounding lack of awareness about anal sex itself. Some bottoms swear by anal douching, the physical act of propelling water inside of oneself to rid of any waste or unwanted excrement, as the only tried-and-true technique to prepare for anal sex. If you’ve ever dreamt of squirting water in and out of yourself as you lay awkwardly in your moldy bathtub, then anal douching might be for you.

If you’ve ever dreamt of squirting water in and out of yourself as you lay awkwardly in your moldy bathtub, then anal douching might be for you.

Doesn’t that sound awful? Douching sounds like an awful experience because it is an awful experience, and it’s one that is completely unnecessary to have an enjoyable experience in the boudoir, or in the backseat of someone’s Jeep Cherokee (we’ve all been there, right?). There are plenty of alternative methods of preparation that are less invasive and equally effective. I’ve been having anal sex without any incidents since before Donald Trump became president — and that feels like an eternity ago.

There are plenty of other ways to wash out your backdoor. Whenever I anticipate being on the receiving end of anal sex, I have a steady recipe for success. First, I wake up and have several cups of coffee alongside a fiber-rich breakfast of fruit, soymilk and oatmeal. Eating a meal like this early in the morning is healthy and empowering, while also having the added benefit of expelling any and all substances within my body. Then, I go for a run, followed by another cup of coffee; throughout all of these errands, I sip on tap water, which relaxes and hydrates me.

The most important step: taking a shower and rinsing downstairs. Use floral, scented soap for the rest of your body, but don’t mix any of that noise up in your bits — stick to a warm, steady flow of clear shower water and you’ll be right as rain.

If I’m feeling particularly cautious, I apply a baby wipe for a quick post-shower touch-up, making me feel confident and clean for whatever lies ahead.

This strategy has never failed me, and it’s far less unpleasant than anal douching is. If the point of anal prep is to maximize enjoyment and minimize awkwardness, then I fail to see how putting oneself through douching should ever be considered — unless you enjoy the sensation of water dripping out of your behind, I’d recommend avoiding it at all costs.

“Philip Maibut” wants you to explore the wonderful world of anal pleasure — without subjecting yourself to discomfort.

“Douching offers beneficial preparation for penetrative sex, provides courtesy to sexual partners”

By: “Mike Keaster” // Behind Closed Doors Columnist

Unlike “Phillip,” I do not live in some cloud cuckoo fantasy land. While I’m happy that he thinks that he’s attained the status of some ultimate ice queen with the most-perfect, defect free tuchus, the reality is that most gays struggle with the fear that something — anything — will go wrong down there and that leads to a not-so-fun anal sex experience filled with crippling anxiety.

I have yet to have an embarrassing anal experience in my 20 years of life — baruch hashem — and I’d like to credit that to the fact that I douche before 99.9 percent of my anal experiences. However, not everyone is this lucky when they venture into ass-play, and for the unprepared, they are in for a world of mess.

The first time that I was exposed to the messy side of anal was when I was a baby gay listening to my first horror story of anal gone awry. Obviously, as hormonal teenagers, we become obsessively curious about sex. For LGBTQ+ people, this is only amplified from the fact that we don’t get to passively consume relationships like ours from popular media.

However, the flip side is that sometimes straight people get bored too, and they decide to experiment with the dark side… or the backside, I should say. Essentially, this girl I knew decided to lose her anal virginity to her boyfriend — but like many heterosexuals, she knew nothing about anal douching. Despite the fact that it’s really easy to Google (or Bing if you’re truly morally depraved) “how to have anal sex,” she really went into the anal experience blind.

As you can imagine, it was a wonderfully explosive experience. In the midst of a steamy night of sex, she made a mess. When her boyfriend asked, she conveniently decided to blame the dog. The dog was subsequently put down the next week by his parents due to the incident of supposed incontinence.


Unfortunately, it doesn’t end here. Another friend of mine decided to have spontaneous anal sex (this is never the move) while on poppers (which loosens the sphincter muscles — don’t do drugs, kids). Needless to say, the classroom in Blow Hall where this unholy black mass took place experienced quite the mess that cursed day.

Now I know that these are extreme situations, but did I want to be listed as the cause of death on Fido’s death certificate? Did I want to be the person who had to put in a facilities emergency clean up request because I didn’t have the decency to clean up beforehand? I think not. So, I have taken these cautionary tales to heart.

The reality is that the anus is a two-way street operating only in one lane — kind of like the I-64, but so much more appalling. Consequently, you can always expect that sometimes when a semi is driving down the freeway, that maybe a few Volkswagen Beetles might want to be driving the other way. Best way to prepare? Clear out all of the traffic beforehand.

So yes, while squirting a bottle of water up your behind until it comes back clear might not be your ideal vision of a Sunday afternoon, think of the kind of messes you’re sparing yourself from. When combined with healthy eating habits and all of the other quirky things that “Phillip” thought up as “alternatives,” douching can be your failsafe method to ensure a smooth ride. Us bottoms all want a smooth ride, right?

Do you want to create a mess for facilities to clean up? Do you want to be directly responsible for the death of a cherished family pet? Can you face yourself in the mirror after committing that crime? The chutzpah — dare I say, selfishness — of the all the gays who shun douching, while taking no other precautions.

Unless of course you like causing messes. I won’t kink shame you if you do, but if you decide to blame the dog, you can burn in hell.

“Mike Keaster” wants you to consider your sexual partner and their pets before you decide to get anally railed. Don’t be a douchenozzle — just douche!


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