Diary of An Unrepentant Sex Addict

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

In Which I (Almost) Get My First Facial

Usual warning here: this post contains bi content. It is, in fact, almost 100% man-on-man. So if that takes you to the scary place, just move along and I'll try to put up some safe (hetero) content soon(-ish).

OK.

So, I haven't written in quite a while. It's hard to blog about sex that I'm not having. For reasons that I'll expound upon in a later entry, I'm not indulging in commercial sex these days, nor am I cruising Craigslist as often as I was earlier this year. But occasionally I do skim over the CL ads, and rarer still I'll send out an answer or two. Last Saturday was one such time.

I've been interested in exploring my bi side for the last few months. Part of the reason I haven't been doing the CL thing as much is that I'm actually more interested in finding someone I can do more with than just get blown. Even after the experiences I've had, I'm still surprised at how many people (at least on CL) are interested in giving head while not wanting any reciprocation. Well, don't get me wrong... I still love getting head. Love it love it love it. But, and I never thought I'd see the day when I am the one saying this, but: there's more to sex than just getting blown.

So Saturday, late, I saw and answered an ad. Someone fairly close to my age, close to my locale, who wanted to trade head. Had a picture of his erection, and it looked pretty suckable. I mean, when I say that I'm speaking from a vantage of only having had my mouth around a dick four times previously. Two of those were cross-dressers, and one was a pre-op transsexual (who was more hung than I am, while still being fully feminine in terms of facial features, skin, etc., and possessing an awesome rack... WTF is up with that?). So I get directions and head (heh heh) over.

Sorry, I can't start in with the sex part yet, because he was apparently more nervous than I was. His last email had said he'd be waiting for me while "watching movies". I figure I'll get there and there'll be some decent porn on. Nope. He's watching SpikeTV, and it's a lame cop-caper flick with Stephen Dorff and Natasha Henstridge. So we sit and watch for a bit. Play with his cat a bit. Finally, in an uncharacteristically-bold gesture, I chuckle (at least, I think it came out as a chuckle) and say that when he said he was watching movies, I thought he meant porn. He says he does have a couple of new pornos, but the only working DVD player is in the bedroom. Cool. Works on two levels.

We move on in, and he starts it up. Straight porn, of course. A M/F/M threesome with no M/M contact. He's into it, so we sit on the bed and watch. Scene ends, he skips over some fairly generic ones until he gets to another 3-way. Watch that a while. It starts to work on me, so I pull myself out and start stroking. I mean, someone clearly needs to take the initiative, here. He starts telling me how he got started down this sordid path of cock-suckery: apparently, he used to have a roommate who, when he'd stumble home drunk, would pressure this guy (JB) for head. Kept telling him how they'd take turns, it would feel great, etc. So eventually he gave in, and found that he did like it. I guess they don't room together, since JB has been forced to turn to CL to satisfy his shameful desires. I shouldn't be so snarky, but he did make it sound like he was practically seduced by the dark side of The Force into blowing his (ex-)roommate.

By this time, the scene on the DVD has switched again, now we're seeing a one-on-one with a cute Asian woman. I can tell he's about to skip it, but I mention I think she's cute, so he leaves it. Good call-- this scene has some fantastic close-ups of her working over her partner's erection with lips and tongue. Seriously boner-inspiring stuff. He says, "let me start on you." So we both strip, and I lay back. I watch the porn, he enacts the porn.

And he's pretty damn good.

He works me over really well, and he does a good job taking me pretty deep. Just recalling it now is getting me ready to go again. He changes angles a few times, and is expert at stopping before I get too gone, and letting me cool off before starting again. After a while, he has me stand up beside the bed, and he gets on his knees in front of me. This is fun, too. I look over at the TV, which is the only source of light in the room. We're right in front of it, so his face is bathed in the glow of porn. A new scene is on now (I got caught up in what he was doing and missed the ending of the Asian woman's scene), this one is a slender brunette. She looks a bit like the Twitter icon of a certain sexblogger I regularly read (and follow the Twitters of). So now I'm getting some really good head, and watching some really good head, and wondering if what I see on screen is anything like how she gives head, and then I realize that I'm having to bend my knees slightly to lower my pelvis to his face-level, and my thighs are starting to rebel. So we move back to the bed. Now, on the screen, the brunette is on the receiving end of some breath-play from her partner. Which also reminds me of that someone. I look from there, to the mouth that's actually on my dick, and that's all she wrote. Thank goodness for latex, because I didn't even have a chance to warn him that I was going to shoot. Even with head, I can have trouble coming with a condom on, but not this time. Woof.

He gets me a towel to clean up with, and I catch my breath (coming that much can be hard work!). Now, the moment of truth. I can count the number of times I've done this on one hand and still have a finger free to scratch an itch. And none of those times, have I actually brought the person off. I've had to come to the depressing conclusion that giving a blowjob is not an innate skill. And at present, I'm not very good at it. Made all the more frustrating because I am pretty damn good at going down on women, even if I do say so myself. But just like the way you get to Carnegie Hall, what I need is practice, practice, practice.

So I have him lay back, and I get down between his legs. Note to self: you've always been good about remembering to wash yourself really good before hook-ups, especially around the creases where pelvis meets the top of the leg. Now you know what it's like if you DON'T do that. But I'm strong-enough to soldier on. He was still at full-mast when I came, but the break we've taken has let a little air out of the tube.

Which is good, because, well, I did mention I'm still fairly new at this, right? I mean, he's not as big as me. Nor does he get to be, once he's fully erect. But I'm already having problems fitting it all in my mouth. And anyone who knows me says I can have a big mouth at times. Just clearly not at the times that count. But I'm trying. I'm also trying to do some fun things with my tongue along the underside of the shaft. It looks a lot easier in the porn videos. The women in those can take bigger dicks than this and STILL flutter their tongues along it as they go up and down. But boy, is this harder than it looks, pun intended. And the more I try to stretch my "depth", the closer I get to gagging myself.

So now, here's the score: I've been doing him for about 1/4 the time he spent on me. Already, I'm fighting the urge to purge in the back of my throat, and my eyes are watering from my attempts to take him deeper. I'm madly making sure I keep my teeth covered by lips, because I know how much I hate feeling teeth. On the plus side, he really seems to be enjoying himself. But I realize I'm going to have to resort to the trick I hate seeing done in porn: I'm going to have to use my hand on the shaft.

See, when I see this in porn, it feels like a cop-out. The woman seems as though she's less interested in giving pleasure than in just getting the guy off. She reverts to what is basically a handjob with her sucking on the tip. I'd rather see a more sincere blowjob that only goes halfway down the shaft. Now, however, I realize that there are hips on the other end of that shaft, and sometimes they "encourage" a deeper level of, shall we say, commitment. So now I'm using my hand, as well. And in my own defense, I am at least using my mouth on more than just the tip. Just... not as taking it as deep as I was before.

All this time, I can't help but think that I'm just not doing this very well. I mean, he seems to be enjoying it... he's moaning a lot and bucking plenty (hence the manual intervention). So I'm probably just being hard on myself (*snicker*). But what it boils down to is this: I know that if I were getting this exact blowjob, I'd be unimpressed.

Luckily, I'm not the one on the receiving end, and the one who IS on the receiving end must be enjoying it, because the next thing I know, I hear him say, "I'm coming!". Completely forgetting that there's a safe layer of latex in place, I draw back instinctively. And realize that had there not been a condom, I would have succeeded in not being given a mouthful, but I would have instead glazed myself like a Krispy Kreme gone very, very bad. This guy must have been saving it up for a week or more, because I could swear the condom's tip more than tripled in size. Might just have been my vantage point, I suppose.

At that point, it was really late. Like, 5AM late. So we said good-bye as I found my own way to the door and he hit the shower. But at least I can say that I've made a man come with my mouth. And maybe someone of you reading this can remember far-enough back in your own sexual histories, to remember when you too might have considered that an accomplishment.

I'm still hoping to find a nice, smooth very-femme twink who'll let me explore more in-depth than I have thus far, but this was a good time. And when I got home, I slept the sleep of the satisfied.

Dausa

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