It’s laundry day and while I’ve been sitting and waiting for stuff to get done so I can put my clothes away, my mind has been wandering in the gutter and thinking about some of the moments leading up to having sex with another guy, you know, what I was thinking and feeling before the clothes come off and we both suffer a major redirection of our blood supply?
It kinda dawned on me that men are impatient – yeah, ladies, you probably already know this so it’s not news to you. In that slice of time, it’s like I can’t get undressed fast enough and neither can he; I want to see him naked just as much as he wants to see me, to get that first look at each other’s dick and subconsciously working out the game plan on what to do with it to get it good and hard… so it can be made soft again.
Sometimes it’s an unsettled moment – you know what’s going to happen but you’re also unsure of exactly how it’s going to happen despite what’s been negotiated before the fact. I know there’s a lot of shit running through my mind in that moment: What will he taste like? How will he react when I wrap my hand around his cock and take him into my mouth? Are we just gonna go for it… or are we gonna fool around with each other first?
It’s an anxious moment and sometimes even for me, a scary moment because I know what’s on his mind… and then again, I don’t… but I want to find out and I know this is truth because I’m standing/sitting/whatever and watching him get naked. At times I’ve asked myself in that moment whether or not I’m really about to do what I really want to do… or am I about to make a mistake that’ll leave me chastising myself for making a foolish decision?
To that end, my brain will tell me, “Well, you won’t know if you fucked up until you do it, right?” Yeah, that is so right and even if my acceptance of this doesn’t show on my face in the form of a slight frown, I’m definitely frowning on the inside.
Then there’s that pregnant pause; it’s really kinda funny and rather awkward because now we’re naked, eyeballing each other big time, and now waiting to see who is going to make the first move that’s going to dictate how everything else is going to unfold. In those few insane seconds, my mind has already done an “if/then/else” analysis based on whether or not I’m going to get this ball rolling or he does and I’m usually the one who mutters, “Fuck it…” and gets things started although there are times when the other guy says this to himself before I do and I’ve always wondered if he’s going through the same thought processes – or, at the least, similar – as I’ve just done.
What is he thinking in that moment when I’ve decided to act first, seeing everything from his neck down as fair game? Will he flinch when I go for his ears because he thinks I’m trying to kiss him? Will I feel him tense up for a brief moment when my lips make contact with his neck? Is he going to groan with pleasure as I attack his nipples?
What is this guy thinking about? As a matter of fact, why am I even thinking? Well, that’s because contrary to popular belief, when guys are having sex, we’re not totally mindless about it – there are things going on in our head even as we’re continuing on with the reason why we’re naked with each other although, admittedly, by the time I get down to his dick, parts of my brain just shuts themselves off and the last, real, conscious thought is that I’m going to suck him until he cums and have fun doing it… and hope that it doesn’t fuck with him to much if I keep sucking him after he’s given up his spunk – but that will depend on just how much fun I have making his erection go away.
So no more thinking; the only thing running through my mind, which is now shrouded by the fog of lust, is what my hunger for dick wants to do to make him cum. No, hold on a second – that’s not the whole truth because there’s always that part of me that’s on the lookout for those things a guy can do when I’m sucking him that’ll just flat-out piss me off, like fucking my mouth too aggressively or, damn him, calling me baby or calling me a bitch because I’m making him feel so good with my mouth, hands, and fingers.
The fog has completely surrounded me and my entire world now only consists of his boner and his nuts, even if he’s gotten impatient to taste me and has urged us into a 69 position. If so, the fog lifts a little because I’m always amused to discover that some guys just can’t be sucked and suck dick at the same time – it takes a great deal of focus not to let what the other guy’s doing to my cock interfere with what I’m doing to his. Maybe he’s trying to distract me because at the rate I’m going at his meat, he’s gonna cut loose before he wants to and if that’s the case, oh, dude, it’s on like you wouldn’t believe because I’m just going to take up that challenge, step my game up to the next level and do my damnedest to make him do what he doesn’t want to do right now.
I often feel a sense of what you might call pride when I can make him stop sucking my dick; I know that he’s giving in to the pleasure and, at least in my mind, the inevitable. The fog of lust is lifting a little, my senses sharp and focused on the tell-tale signs that his spunk is about to flow… even though I can hear him grunting, groaning, cursing, or otherwise telling me that I’m making him feel damned good and, yeah, sometimes, it’s all I can do not to start laughing because in the moment of the point of no return, we can sound pretty silly.
He cums with whatever quantity is at his disposal – that doesn’t matter as much as the fact that he did cum and I know I’m not ‘helping’ matter by continuing to slowly milk him if not for every available drop but for the fact that busting a nut like this just feels so incredibly good.
In the moment where he’s trying to regain his senses and I’ve finally given his dick back to him, there’s usually that sense of great satisfaction although I have let go of his now-limp noodle and have not been happy with him or even myself. But I’m thinking that I’ve done what I came here to do so anything that happens after the fact is just gravy. I’ve found myself thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time as I bask in the feelings achieved just a few moments ago.
I’ve found myself looking at the other guy, his cock lying limply against his body and have wondered if he really enjoyed what I just did… or trying not to smile too much to see him looking at me as if I just tried to murder him or something. In this moment, I’m deciding on whether or not my decision to do this with him was a good one or not, not based on what he did while I was doing him but more along the lines of how I felt during the time I was giving him head.
Was I satisfied? Did I like the feel of his prick in my mouth? Did I get that rush of excitement to hear whatever he had to say or was trying to say? While I’m working to get the answers to these questions, he’s gotten himself back together enough to go back down on me and even as I’m enjoying feeling that moist heat surrounding my cock, I’m watching him do me and thinking that no matter how many times I’ve seen this, there’s just something about watching another guy sucking your dick… which isn’t really all that different from watching a woman do it, mind you, but since there’s still that thing in the back of my head yelling and screaming that men aren’t supposed to suck each other’s cocks, it makes the sight of him working on me even more exciting. And if, by chance, there’s a, um, big difference in our skin coloring, well… that just adds on more visual goodness.
At some point, I know I’m going to see him sucking me… but not really see him; my brain – the part that always pays attention to stuff – will state with a high degree of happiness that getting your dick sucked is such a good thing and that being able to cum like this is even better… but that brings more questions to be pondered in the background even as my eyes begin to get that thousand-yard stare thing going on.
Will he get me off? Am I into this enough to get to my release point? If not, what can either of us do to remedy this because after all that I’ve done to him, I really and seriously need to empty my nuts! Will he drink down my stuff like I did his… or will he see the signs that I’m at that point and then remove me from his mouth and finish me manually? What will he do? What is he thinking?
Some untold segment of time later, I could care less about the previously posed questions because he’s gotten me there and has kicked me over the edge – and all those questions that popped into my head have now been answered one way or the other.
Do we have time to do this again? Does he even want to do it again? Fuck, do I want to do him again? What did I think of his skills and ability? Shit, does it really matter if he was good at this or not… or is the more important thing the fact that he did me and to the best of his ability?
No matter what happens after all of this, at some point, I’m going to be left alone with my thoughts about what just happened. Maybe I feel incredibly good… or maybe not depending on how it all went down. At some point, I’ll just shrug because I know that eventually, I will get it all sorted out, cataloged, and properly stored in my memory and maybe I’m already thinking about the next cock that’ll find its way into my mouth or maybe I’m thinking that for now, the beast that loves cock and lives within me is satisfied for the time being and now this one gives way to the one that loves pussy and now I’m thinking about an even better form of oral sex because as nice as it is to suck dick, there’s still nothing better than having your face buried in a woman’s hot and juicy sex…
As I was writing this, a part of me was wondering why I was writing all of this and the answer was readily available: One, it was on your mind; two, while there are loads of people who know that men do suck each other’s cocks, maybe they don’t know what can go on inside a guy’s mind before, during, and after the fact? Hell, maybe someone wanted to know what guys think when they’re going down on each other because, yeah, there are some guys who might think that they’re the only one who thinks about it before, during, and after the fact? Maybe there are people who continue to believe that when men suck men, we do so mindlessly and without any thought to the consequences to our actions?
I dunno… but what I do know is that I felt like writing this – so I did. Now to find something else to write about…