Hat Trick Of Sorts

(As a bit of an offset to the navel-gazing of the previous post...)

Speaking of "threes", I managed a bit of a "hat trick" of sorts this last Friday night: three orgasms in the span of 90 minutes or so. Considering I was just three days away from turning 40, and that I'm in terrible shape still, that's no mean feat.

I'd started the evening by hooking up with someone off of Craigslist. Went over to his place, and got a pretty decent BJ. Then, even though he had made it clear that he wasn't expecting reciprocation, I figured I could use more practice so I returned the favor. Thing is, I noticed that I had never really gone soft after my orgasm. He noticed this, too, and we ended by both jerking off. There was some hot porn on the TV, and it was generally just a pretty good scene overall.

Then I went home, and realized I was still about half-hard, so I figured why not try? I pulled up some favorite video clips from YouPorn (which I like because they give you download-links for the clips, so you can save your own copies of the ones you like the most). Next thing I know, I'm shooting a third time. I honestly can't remember the last time I was able to do that (maybe at the end of the "33 Days" experiment last year, I'm not sure).

I sure felt young again, I say that much!

-D

OK, Cupid, Maybe You CAN Get Me Laid

I've actually had very little success with the OKCupid matching site. And that's a shame, really, because I love their tests and I think their approach to questions (allowing multiple "right" answers, weighting the importance of various questions) is probably one of the best thought-out of the dating-website diaspora. And yet, until this week I'd never gotten lucky with anyone I met there. A number of first dates, but rarely a second date.

And then, this happens. I'm currently in Denver, and will be for a few more days. Last year, when I lived here for a few months, I'd tried to date a little using OKC (and a few others) as a source, to no avail. I don't remember how I found the particular ad, but after moving back to California I stumbled across an ad from someone in Boulder. An almost idea match-- polyamorous, close (-enough) to my age, and many shared interests including Russian. I sent a brief e-mail that basically joked, "Where were you last year when I was in Denver for 8 months?" Funny-enough, she wrote back and said I should drop her a line next time I was headed to the area. So a few weeks ago, I did. But this story actually isn't about her, and you'd probably prefer I get to the sex part, anyway...

When I wrote to her, as is the wont of OKC I saw a few suggested profiles for people in the same general area that are similar (by OKC's measure) to the person I just wrote to. One of them really caught my eye, as her views on sex and poly relationships was very close to mine. I was hesitant, though, because there was a larger age-gap than I would normally pursue. But I sent a fairly harmless message anyway. She replied and seemed to be really interested in me. We exchanged some OKC messages, and moved one evening into actual chat. Started on OKC, moved to Yahoo IM. I still wasn't sure she was actually interested in getting together, but the chat was enjoyable.

Then it started getting slightly suggestive. I was being a good boy, I swear! But after a bit, I had to start teasing a little in return. You know, like self-defense. Sorta. Anyway, so we decided to meet somewhere last Saturday, after she got off work. Picked a nice, reasonably-quiet bar. I got there and immediately recognized her from her pics. Oh yeah... pics. Did I mention that by way of teasing me, she had sent me links ("private guest passes", in Flickr terminology) to several Flickr photo sets she had, that were carefully locked? And for good reason... these included several strip-tease sets, a set from her first orgy (which also proudly pointed out that she herself had organized it), and a set called "not alone", that comprised of pics of her with others (but which did not belong to the orgy set). As George Takei would say, "Oh my."

So, yeah, after deciding that despite a clear case of mutual lust (I had only a few pictures to offer, but sent them in order to be fair) it would not be wise for one of us to drive the 30 or so miles to the other at 2AM for a quickie, we made the Saturday plans. And so it came to be that I was having a pint of Guinness (food of the gods), across from her and her simple white wine. We talked for hours, joking, flirting just a little. And as it was getting late, we left and went to my car (well, the car I borrowed from the friend I'm staying with out here). At this point, I was hopeful but a little unsure... aside from semi-anon hook-ups on Craigslist, my actual dating-life has been pretty cruddy for quite a while. This person was neither a professional, paid to tolerate my advances, nor a fellow CL cruiser, who may have simply decided that I was "good enough" for that evening's efforts. No, this was a real, ordinary person with fairly ordinary dating instincts. But as we sat and contemplated each other, I boldly made the move for a first kiss. And 10 minutes later, we broke off long enough to consider our dilemma:

• Driving to my place was out because (a) it was 30+ miles away and (b) my friend was already annoyed that I had made a date to spend time with someone other than her (despite the fact that we are only friends, not romantically-involved, and despite the fact that in previous visits she herself had tried to get me laid... I don't understand, so please don't ask...)
• Her place was out because she currently was living with a parent while returning to school after a few years' break
• There was no doubt we needed to find someplace, and fast

So we did something I hadn't actually ever had to do before: we found a cheap motel, and rented a room solely for the purpose of sex.

Once in the room, we didn't waste any time. But that was largely because we didn't have a lot of time to waste... it was already late, and she had to be up early Sunday for work. But we had enough time for my two favorite Latin words. Who am I kidding... for me, there's always time for going down!

After we spent more time making out (this time, doing so while deliciously undressed), I kissed my way down her body and took a moment to gaze at her V. Very nice, indeed: neatly trimmed, without any actual shaving. I could play to my heart's content without worrying about either stray hairs or razor stubble. So I went in and started in on my usual tricks and technique. I know I've said it over and over, but I fucking love going down on a woman. I don't know why, maybe because I got conditioned to consider it "forbidden fruit" earlier in my sexual history. But it's just heaven for me. So, I'd made sure she knew that I was a lover of this activity, and also more than happy to go as long as it took for her to get off... I didn't just consider it some obligatory foreplay. And she had warned that she rarely gets off from just oral. But that's OK... I'm just lovin' life, for now. Licking, suckling the clit, lightly nipping the labia, long slow broad strokes of my tongue. After a while, at her request, I work a few fingers into her and start massaging the general area of the G-spot (which I tend to have more trouble locating than the clit itself). But sure-enough, after about 20 minutes or so, she stops me and tells me that she thinks she'd have a better chance of getting off if I continue to use the fingers inside her, but let her work her clit with her own fingers. You know, some guys might take offense at this, or at least feel like they weren't effective. Not me. I'm just happy to see my partner get off, especially if I can have a hand in it (oh, that was a bad pun... sorry). And after another 5 minutes or so, I got what I wanted to see: her in the throes of a great O, so much that almost her entire body lifted up from the bed.

Then it was my turn. As sometimes happens, I had gotten very focused on what I was doing to/for her, and my own excitement had... faded. But she had bragged about her oral skills, and felt the need to back up her bold words. And she did. I can no longer point to a single person as the hands-down "best" oralist I've had the pleasure of enjoying, but she was pretty damn good. When she took me over the edge, I felt almost as if I was coming so hard my feet were shrinking.

Alas, at that point I knew I was spent for the night, and she still had work to dread, err, look forward to. So we parted ways, me driving her back to the bar to get her car, and her saying good-night with a hungry kiss that made me wish it were 3PM instead of AM. But part we did, and drove back to my house and she to hers. Neither of us knowing for sure if our schedules (hers consisting of school and work, mine consisting of remote website work and house maintenance/repairs) would let us get together again.

Turns out they do-- tomorrow morning. And on that note, I need to get some sleep :-).

-Dausa

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

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 26 - Is It Really Just One Week Away?

It occurs to me that if I can hold out for just one more week, just seven more days beyond today, I will have reached my goal. I might actually, err, pull this off.

My nuts feel like they're the size of grapefruits. I know, on an intellectual level, that there's really little effective difference between the quantity of pent-up, ummm, energy between seven days and twenty-six days. It's purely psychological, I know, to think that the quantity and force of the orgasm I have on the 3rd will be that much different that if I'd broken down on day eight and gone scrambling for the stash of porn.

But it's going to feel like it, whether it's true or not. I'm not sure what I'll do on that day. I'm not dating anyone, and I'm not exactly a pick-up artist so I can't just assume that I can go to a bar or club and pull. I'm trying really hard to get out of the habit of commercial sex (this stunt is part of that larger effort), so I'm not letting myself think in those terms. At least, not yet. But it seems like it would be a shame to, well, "waste" what is going to a monumental emission on the porcelain of my bath-tub. On the other hand, I feel like if I were to be getting a blowjob I'd be obligated to warn my partner that there may be an issue of, well, volume.

Yeah, a long, slow, sloppy blowjob would be the ideal way to celebrate my birthday...

-D

33 Days, 33 Posts: Day 10 - Double Digits, CBW & BJs

Wow! Ten days! To think, I only gave myself five days, six max.

It's Wednesday, and I haven't done a cock-blogging Wednesday post in a while. Over at la fille mariée, I commented on one of her posts where she was reflecting on how she wants to become the best she can possibly be at that most critical-to-the-advancement-of-humanity skills: the blowjob.

I offered my proverbial two cents' worth, but for CBW I just want to ruminate on the three best BJs I can remember. Since I have another 23 days to go before I can look forward to one, memories will have to be enough for now. Besides, my first nine posts have been whine, whine, whine, poor me wanting to wank and not letting myself. So here's some walking in my memories, some wonderful memories that I can call upon to keep me warm at nights...

First, and most recently, was one of the people I met during my "Craigslist experiment". I mentioned him in glowing terms at the time, but let's just be that much more explicit. As I mentioned, this guy has a tongue-stud. I love piercings. Especially when the piercing is working my hard-on. I don't buy the premise that gay men just naturally give better head... I've had head from men as mediocre as the most mediocre of head from women. That said, this is the best BJ I can remember. And it came from a guy. Make of that what you will. He didn't use his hands at all. It was all tongue and lips. He laid me on his bed, on my back, with my ass at the edge. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and lowered his face to my cock. It wasn't fully hard yet, so he took what I had to offer and started warming it up. It didn't take long to get it hard. Man, that stud felt amazing. He took me from tip to base, doing things I can't even put into words. I am not exaggerating when I say he spent over twenty minutes working me over. There were at least five times that I was sure I was about to explode, and each time he expertly stopped at just the right moment. Here's something he did, that was certainly augmented by the piercing, that drove me nuts: he would take it as deep as he could, then slowly withdraw, going even more slowly over the last few inches. That's not the special part, the special part is that for these last few inches, he pulled back (down and away from my crotch) in a way that normally would make the tip pop out of his mouth. But he used counter-pressure from his tongue to keep it in his mouth. The net effect was to create a level of suction and pressure that I had never felt before. Finally, finally he let me have my orgasm. And it was good.

Second one that comes, ahem, to mind... the first time I visited that sex worker who rocked my world. That post has a nice blow-by-blow (again, ahem) of our first time together, but here I'll just focus on the oral she graced me with. She's the one whom I've referred to before as having done a lot of rimming (I didn't know ahead of time that was coming, but thankfully I'd washed myself very thoroughly in my pre-session shower). Before she even took me in her mouth, she'd gotten me harder than I could (at the moment) remember with all the rimming. So when she finally took me in, I was sure I'd explode immediately. She went deep, deeper than I would have thought someone as petite as her could. She used her hands a little more than I usually like, but her tongue never stopped moving, so I barely noticed. God, I was so sure I was going to lose it sooner than I wanted to. Eventually, we stopped and moved on to straight sex. But later, after I'd had time to recover from my first orgasm, she started in on me again and refused to stop until I'd come from her oral attentions.

Thirdly (and for now lastly), I go back a good deal further to before I left Oklahoma for Colorado. It was the first time with someone I'd end up eventually living with and exploring in many more ways, with. But that first time, just stands out. To be fair, this is the more emotionally-vested of the three, so I'm probably embellishing it in my memory. But what I remember is how warm and wet her mouth was, that first time as she slowly took me in and inched her way down. She came closer to taking the full length than anyone before her had, and that last little inch or so of sensory input made me feel like I was going to die from the pleasure. I remember thinking that I had probably fallen asleep in front of the TV and was just having a dream-- after all, I was not the sort who manages to seduce the hot next-door-neighbor into a blowjob. But it was real, all right. I don't remember how long it lasted, but I do remember her taking the time to lick and nuzzle around the base of my cock, not just the balls. it was like she was getting a buzz from the musky scent between the base and the join of my legs to my groin. She swirled her tongue in little circles along the underside, stopping at that magical spot just underneath the head that drives me crazy, before sucking right there and trilling her tongue on the ridge of the glans. When I came, and boy did I come, she swallowed me completely. And when I passionately kissed her afterwards, I had unknowingly passed a secret test in my willingness to do so. Men: if you don't like the thought of kissing her after she's swallowed, you'd best remember that the alternative is that she never swallows again. Deal with it.

Enough for tonight.

Dausa