I don't worship cocks, and although I prefer that the man who fucks me is "manly" in appearance and actions, mostly I'm attracted to the sensations - both mental and physical - of being fucked by a guy who knows what he's doing.
I don't necessarily think I'm offering something better than a pussy, but I'm offering something different and complementary to a vagina. The taboo factor is part of the mental sensations for both of us, and the tightness is part of the physical pleasure. I do not have a "boi-cunt" - I have an anus, a sphincter, and a rectum. Those parts of me can both give and receive unique pleasurable sensations.
I don't know if it is "confidence" as much as "determination". Him, knowing that he wants to enter and enjoy me. Me, knowing that I WANT him inside, and want to give him pleasure.
The pain is a very complicated thing. Pain HURTS, and I am NOT into pain per se. But there is a special kind of satisfaction to the pain of being entered and fucked. Some of it is simply the macho thing of showing that I can "take it", but there's much more to it that I don't understand. For me, the discomfort is part of the overall experience. Especially the momentary stab when the erection forces my sphincter to yield.
And this was true several times over when I took it in my ass for the very first time. I'm glad that it hurt, though I would not want to experience intense, nor sustained, pain. I'm glad that I gave out an emphatic "OUCH!" when he broke through. I'm glad that he held me firmly in place even though I was squirming (and repeating "Ouch! Ouch! That hurts!"), until the initial shock passed and I was becoming accustomed to the violation. (He told me afterwards that "Ouch! Ouch! It Hurts!" are the last words of most guys getting their ass cherry popped.)
I know that he got satisfaction feeling my legs kick and scissor, and seeing my face scrunch up in a grimace, and my hands clutching the sheets. (If he hadn't put me on my back in the traditional woman's position, my arms and legs would not have been free to respond that way.) When my tears came, I'm glad he continued his long, deliberate, strokes. And, even though I was embarrassed when I first thought about it, I'm glad I wrapped arms and legs around and clutched him to me as he inseminated me. On the other hand . . . . I'm glad nobody else was there to see me do those "unmanly" things.