I consider myself a straight, heterosexual male, but that doesn’t mean I never strayed down another road.
Having just graduated college I married a girl still in her sophomore year. It soon became clear she was in love with the idea of being married, but wasn’t ready for a forever relationship.
A couple years into our marriage she became depressed because she thought her life as “over”. To cope, she expanded her circle of friends by joining forums, discussion groups and chatting with random strangers. Before long those chats turned sexual, the random strangers were suddenly local and eventually she wanted to meet one of her friends in real life. From there it was a short road to her stroking, sucking and fucking the guys feeding her attention online.
Since our divorce the two of us talked and she adamantly states I did nothing wrong, insisting it was a mix of her own immaturity and insecurities that had her looking for a way to maintain her sense of collegiate independence.
So there I was, in my mid 20’s, divorced and with no outlet for the sex I’d grown so use to having. Yes, despite my ex’s extramarital affairs, we still maintained a very healthy sex life right until the end.
I had never been a guy that went to clubs, and I was still recovering from the wounds of the divorce, so I turned to a less painful form of rejection….on-line dating. Ok, perhaps “dating” is the wrong term. The site I went to wasn’t concerned with forming a lasting and meaningful relationships, its primary goal was to connect people that desired a more intimate and sweaty encounter, in which your personality wasn’t the deciding factor on whether you’d get a second “date”.
As with every adult “dating” site, the few real women seeking companionship were completely bombarded by horny males; therefore, your odds of becoming the lucky chosen one was never as good as advertised.
The more time passed from my last sexual encounter, the more desperate I became. One afternoon, in a fit of arousal fueled fog, I responded to another guy’s post. Less than an hour later I found myself knocking on the door of his apartment.
The post I had replied to was completely non-threatening. It was written by a guy in a long-term relationship, but his girlfriend often traveled for weeks at a time due to her job. He was looking for was someone to watch porn and masturbate with. No contact, no funny business, just a jack-off buddy.
As odd as that sounded, something about his post struck a chord with me because it’d be a way to get off, without my orgasm seeming like a completely solitary act. It wasn’t what I wanted, I wanted sex, and lots of it…but with no prospects on the table, I decided I could give this a try.
Arriving at his place I was relieved to find he was around my age and in decent shape. No, I wasn’t checking him out but having him look like someone I might be friends with was somehow better than him being an over-weight middle-aged man.Mentally it was easier to imagine I was just coming over to hang out with an old college friend, instead of it feeling like I was slumming around some creepy old guy’s place.
After a brief introduction he moved right past the small talk as he took me to the chest which housed his porn collection. It wasn’t a huge collection but it had the basic genres and he inquired as to what I liked.
I was completely out of my element and nervous, so I just picked first DVD he described as “pretty good”. With the elicit material chosen I followed him to the bedroom, where slipped the DVD into the player before proceeding to undress on the other side of his full-size bed.
I was honestly taken aback. Everything had happened quickly and I hadn’t actually taken the time to think through how things were going to go. If you had asked me, I probably would have said we’d both masturbate with our pants open, but still on. The idea of masturbating fully naked while sitting next to another guy somehow hadn’t entered my mind, yet, I followed his lead and removed everything I had on before sitting on his bed.
I found myself glad he hadn’t turned on the light or opened the shades as the semi-dark room provided a sense of privacy. The only real source of light came from the TV on the opposite wall, and I was determined to remain focused on that wall. I wasn’t “afraid” to see another guy naked. Having lived in the dorms I’d seen more than my fair share of guys naked in the communal showers, but this time it was different
No matter how much I wanted to fully immerse myself in the pornographic acts playing out on the screen, it was impossible to ignore the slight movements and sounds coming next from me. No perverse act on the screen could make me forget that mere inches from me was a guy, completely naked and actively trying to make himself cum.
The more I tried to concentrate solely on the TV, the more I became aware of the small details which reminded me I wasn’t alone. At one point I thought I sensed movement, and then I had the feeling of being watched
Unable to shake the feeling, I turned my head slightly and my intuition was confirmed. His gaze wasn’t discrete, it was painfully obvious that the sight of me jerking off is what he was jerking off to, not the acts on the TV. I wasn’t sure how I felt about becoming live porn for another guy, so I ignored him and looked back to the screen. As I turned to look away, my eyes dipped down, and in the dim light of the room, I saw his hand gripping his cock as it slid up and down along the shaft.
After my brief visual detour, I redoubled my efforts to only focus on the TV. I remained conflicted over the small peek I’d just made of him, and I asked myself “why did you look?” While this internal monologue might appear to be counter-productive to the goal of cumming, it actually worked in my favor as I didn’t want to cum quickly, or first. Why? Because I didn’t want to be in the situation where I’d already cum, only to find out he wanted to edge for another 20-minutes. What would you do then? Say “good-bye” as you let yourself out or would you sit awkwardly next to him waiting for him to finish? Neither seemed like a good solution, so somewhere along the line I had decided I needed to ensure I didn’t cum first.
——————
I have no idea how long I’d been watching the man and woman exchange sex acts on the screen, when I removed my hand from my cock to apply a little more of the lotion my host had provided. My hand had only been gone for a moment when his free hand reached over to seize the opportunity.
This is not the part of the story in which I tell you that his hand felt amazing and I became instantly addicted. The truth was, his hand gripped me at an odd angle and his movements were timid, likely due to his fear I’d be upset for taking things further than we’d discussed. Yet I didn’t say anything and I made no effort to stop him.
For the next little bit, I sat in his bed as he stroked both his cock and mine. His technique was too foreign to really enjoy it, but I found myself reacting strongly to his touch because it felt both taboo and “wrong”.
I don’t know if I was fueled by arousal or by a sense of “fairness”, but I lifted my hand closest to him. As it moved, he correctly anticipated my intent and silently let me know it was ok by withdrawing his hand from his cock. I watched the implied invitation and I knew this was something he wanted….he wanted to feel my hand around him, jerking him off.
My hand wrapped around him, tighter than he’d gripped me initially, and I couldn’t help but notice how different it felt. First of all, I was feeling a cock in my hand, but what I felt and how my hand moved didn’t correspond with the stimulation radiating from my own cock.
Beyond that, I noticed that his cock wasn’t as long as mine, but it made up for it by having more girth. The veins on his cock stuck out more like those on a “real” dildo and the head of his cock felt fully engorged and “squishy”, like mine does when I’m very close to cumming. It was strange, but I couldn’t help but notice how different his cock felt in my hand, it was almost like touching a cock for the first time.
Without the sensation radiating back along my cock it was difficult to tell whether I offered a good handjob or only a mediocre one. I made up for this lack of sensory input by trying to model my movements and grip after his own, based on the belief he was doing to me what he enjoys and does to himself.
———–
The images on the TV continued to play on, but I was barely following the “plot” anymore, as I began to wonder if I really could let him jerk me off until I came. This wasn’t only new and unexpected,it was also happening too fast.
I was lost in my own thoughts as I debated letting go of his cock and resuming stroking my own when I was jolted back to reality when his feet and body shifted.
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what that movement meant and my head tilted down to watch as his body turned and slid lower in the bed. As he continued to move, my hand lost contact with his cock, and in the low flickering light of the TV, as a woman moaned in pleasure on the screen, I saw him guide my cock into his open mouth.
Once more, he took things further than we had discussed and further than I had imagined they would go, but just as before, I did not pull away or ask him to stop. Instead, I placed my hands on the bed, giving him full access to my cock as I looked back to the TV.
There’s a common belief that girls eat the best pussy since they know what feels best. If that’s true, the same doesn’t hold true for guys and blowjobs, or not at least for my host’s ability to give a blowjob. Just like his cock stroking technique, he was timid in this too. His actions seemed too light and too little as he was clearly trying to figure things out as he went, possibly debating on whether he could, or should, continue.
As he continued his very first blowjob, he offered no sucking or additional stimulation. In fact, he was offering little more than his mouth moving up and down along my shaft, his teeth brushing against me on occasion. Despite his inexperience, my cock still grew harder in his mouth. No, it wasn’t a great blowjob by any measure and I found I couldn’t look down at him, because doing so was too much of a mental game for me; however, just knowing what was happening provided more than enough motivation for my cock to continually build towards orgasm.
As quickly and unexpectedly his descent to my cock had been, he pulled away and moved back up the bed with the same surprising and unexpected speed. Laying next to me once more, his hand reached back into my lap as he gripped and stroked my cock…a cock made wet by his indecent act.
Understanding my brief blowjob was over, I wasted no time in giving his cock the attention I knew it’d want. Feeling the way his cock responded when I gripped him once more confirmed to me that my hand was exactly what his cock ached for, not his own.
We laid in bed a few moments longer, jerking each other off, when I made another surprising decision. Motivated by arousal and a sense of things being “unfair”, I released his cock as I prepared to even the sexual score.
Just as I’d understood his movements earlier, he clearly understood mine now. He let go of my cock and laid flat on the bed, lifting his head just enough to watch as my face continued to get closer to him. If there’d been any doubt as to how much he desired this, that doubt was erased when I heard him let out a small groan just as my lips touched their very first cock.
I hadn’t truly understood how thick his cock was or how difficult it could be to suck a cock before that moment. The head of his cock had felt big in my hand, and for a moment, I didn’t know if it’d even fit in my mouth.
Once my lips closed around it, I dutifully tried to take it all in, but soon I felt like I was going to choke on what I’d previously considered a short cock.
Later I would take time to appreciate the work and effort my various ex’s had made when giving me blowjobs and learning to deep-throat, but this wasn’t time to reflect. Instead, I tried to remember all the things I liked in a blowjob and then I tried to do those things.
As I sucked his cock, I licked the underside of it slowly. I focused my mouth on the head and top part of his shaft, letting my hand stroke the lower portions of his shaft, so I wasn’t neglecting any of his thick cock. Every now and then I’d remove my hand and swallow as much of him as I could. As my head bobbed up and down I tried to remain aware of my teeth while also massaging the underside of his cock with my tongue.
The more I concentrated on the head of his cock the louder his breathing became, and that told me he enjoyed what I was doing, or at least the idea of what was happening. It didn’t take much longer before I heard him say the three words every guy knows he must utter when he’s with someone new….”I’m gonna cum”.
As he said that the intensity of his breathing changed quickly, which motivated me to back away from his engorged cock quickly. I was barely clear of the blast area before his hot cum erupted all over his stomach and chest.
Having made him cum I moved back up the bed and straightened out once more. With him having cum, there was no reason for me to hold back any longer, but before my hand was able to reach down and grip my own cock, I saw him beginning to sit up and turn.
I couldn’t see his face but I knew his intention so my hand stopped its descent towards self-pleasure. Instead, I laid there and watched closely as my cock disappeared into his waiting mouth once more.
As my cock filled his mouth again, I knew things would be different this time. The first time I suspect he was driven by curiosity, and he likely didn’t know how far he wanted to go, could go or should go. He had stopped sucking my cock when when he had reached his goal of “trying to give a blowjob” or upon deciding he had “done enough”. Whatever the reason he abandoned his oral consumption prematurely before, he had just resumed that effort.
Without saying a word, we both knew this wouldn’t be a trial blowjob, offered only so to see if he could suck another guy’s cock. Nor was this a test designed to discover if I’d let him pull me into his mouth. We had already done those things and those questions had been answered.
The only reason for his mouth to return to my cock was because he wanted to make me cum the same way I’d made him.
———–
His second attempt at a blowjob was less timid, which made it better, but his technique still needed work. Despite that, I let go and tried to enjoy it.
The biggest difference with this blowjob wasn’t his technique, it was with me.
When I made him cum, something had changed.
This wasn’t a case where I’d just been in the same room when as he touched himself and came….no, I had been the one to make him cum.
It went further than that though…I hadn’t just idly gone through the motions and he accidentally came; instead, I had focused on my every act and I had done everything I could in order to make him cum…to make him cum as I sucked his cock
As I laid on the bed, I looked down at him and I admitted to myself that I wanted to cum too, but I also knew that this was more than just a desire to cum. In that moment I didn’t want my hand, I wanted him to make me cum, and I wanted the source of my pleasure to be his mouth.
It’s funny how one thought can be that powerful, but it was. His technique had a lot of be desired, but by acknowledging what I “wanted”, that more than made up for any other shortcomings.
From that point it didn’t take long before I was looking down at him and repeating those same 3-words of courtesy and release
Just as I’d done with him, he pulled away, only he didn’t retreat as far as I did, and his face remained close to my spasming cock.
————
My heart was still racing when he handed me a small towel to clean up with, and less than 5-minutes later I was in my car about to head home.
Before I left he told me I was free to come back and hang out any time, emphasizing the fact his girlfriend would be gone for another 2-weeks.
When I got home “reality” began to set in and I was no longer sure I wanted to go back over.
That evening a woman replied to me on the “dating” site and that gave me hope that something more “traditional” was around the corner, I honestly don’t remember if I ended up meeting her or not, but her message provided me the motivation to delete all my communication with him.
The truth was, I was afraid to go back over. I’d gone to his place with the idea of doing nothing more than masturbating, yet, we’d jerked and sucked each other off. I was keenly aware of the fact he never pressured me and I never made a move to stop him. My actions weren’t fueled by a sudden lust for guys, it had been because I was horny, and when I’m “that” horny, I forget the word “stop”..
Along with that, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’d never go to his place just to hang out. It was a foregone conclusion that, if I saw him again, his cock would be in my mouth, and mine would be in his. Within a couple visits one of us wouldn’t pull away when those 3 words were spoken, and then neither of us would.
Once that barrier had been crossed, there’d be little need of porn driven masturbation. Anytime his girlfriend was gone we’d spend much of our time on our knees, satisfying the other’s need. The real problem was that one question I was too afraid to ask….what position would you be taking while on your knees?
I could tell myself all day long I’d never fuck, or be fucked, by a guy, but the truth was, it’d only taken one visit for me to suck another guy’s cock…based on that, could I really insist that sex be out of the question? Sure, my “normal” brain says I wouldn’t cross that line, but if I was “that” horny again, I wasn’t so sure….