I’ve had this thought in my head for the last couple of days and as with a lot of the thoughts I have, I’ve no idea what prompted it to surface; one moment, I’m looking at my reflection in the mirror as I washed my face and pondered whether or not I wanted to shave, the next moment I’m thinking about what it feels like to have a hard cock in my ass and, well, y’all know me by now, I’m talking about things other than it feels good.
It’s one thing to suck another man’s cock; that’s plenty erotic and intimate enough to give one a delightful shiver or two; those of you who don’t suck dick, well, you just don’t know how much sinful fun that alone can be. It is, however, something else to find yourself either lying on your back, on your stomach, or maybe even climbing astride the guy you just got finished sucking on, your hole tingling from having been well-fingered as the lube was applied and, no matter the position, you feel his knob press against you and that pressure increases until any resistance is overcome and his knob passes into you. Those of you who have been fucked, well, you know what that feels like, don’t you? That feeling you have that’s mixed with anticipation and even a bit of trepidation, that moment of discomfort as the purpose of your anal sphincter is defeated? And now he’s inside you.
A finger or two in your butt, okay, that’s one thing; inserting your favorite toy or butt plug, eh, they work, too, but seriously? There’s nothing that can match the feel of a hard cock worming its way into that place that most people consider to be exit-only, an intimate contact that can be so total that you can feel his heartbeat being transmitted through his cock and into your anal sheath, right along with the heat of his body. It kinda doesn’t matter how much of his prick he puts into you – your tastes and needs will vary, of course – but, yeah, there’s another man fucking into your ass and it doesn’t really get anymore taboo than that, does it? The fact that (a) he has no business being inside you like this and (b) you should never allow such a thing to happen in the first place makes the whole moment so weirdly delightful as he settles into his rhythm and you settle in to be fucked, your mind already starting to look forward to the very messy end you hope and pray will happen – and that’s provided his cock isn’t sheathed in latex or lamb skin, of course; this, too, is a matter of personal preference.
I blinked and saw myself still staring into the mirror, my washcloth pressed against that unwashed side of my face; where the hell did I just go? I shook my head to clear it (not that it helped any) and continued to think about whether or not I wanted to shave or to wait a couple of days. That was my active thought and one that had been disrupted by the stray thoughts but then returned as if the original thought had never been interrupted; in the back of my mind, damn, my thoughts were still stuck in that place and memory fragments are flowing together to build pictures of every moment I ever had another man’s dick in my ass and, with a sense of importance, what I was thinking and feeling in those moments.
As I washed under my arms, I thought, “I need to write about this even though I know I wrote something along these lines already but, shit, this is worth repeating…” – and because it is worth repeating. Admittedly, it’s not my thing to do these days but, yeah, there was a time when it was and it just wasn’t enough to suck the other guy’s dick until his balls ran dry because you wanted him to make that deposit elsewhere. I’m wiping away the lather under my arms and shaking my head just thinking about how many times in my life I’ve been in this particular moment of truth, one part of me not really wanting it to happen, but another part of me shivering in anticipation to feel the other guy pushing his dick into me. Oddly enough, I never really got used to that initial moment of penetration, from being “slightly” uncomfortable to that dreaded feeling of “Oh, shit, why did I want him to put it in?”
It’s that moment – and at least for me – when I’ve always thought, “Look, either get that fucker in me or take it out right now!” Once that moment has passed, then it’s all about settling in, feeling his weight pressing against me as he fucks his cock in and out of my butt and, no, there’s just nothing else like it. At least for me, it wasn’t really about whether the guy fucking me was good at it or not or whether he came instantly or it took a while; it was about being in that position, feeling his cock moving inside me and, yes, even thinking that this isn’t the way things are supposed to go but it feels too damned good for it not to be done. Society and morality says one thing but that feel of a cock in your ass and its owner working it in whatever way he’s doing it says something very different; those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about will understand – anyone else, eh, not so much, I’m thinking.
After getting all cleaned up and dressed, I still had it in my mind to write about this except I couldn’t quite form the words in my head; this isn’t all that unusual, though. It’s just a matter of being patient and letting the words form on their own and not rushing them; either they will and then I’ll be able to write or they won’t and I can’t. A writer’s mind is a weird place; you’re thinking about what you want to write but you’re not thinking about it at the same time. So as I’m watching TV and doing other shit on my iPad, I’m doing more feeling than thinking, examining all those moments for, um, content, those things that go beyond “merely” being fucked, like, no matter how many times I’ve been fucked, I’ve always had that sense of anticipation and dread, followed by either some “mindless” enjoyment or there’s something about the way he’s fucking me (or talking to me while he’s doing it) that’s making me wish I had never consented to being on this end of the deal, that and the fact that I fully understand why one doesn’t always demand an immediate withdrawal in those moments, too.
That, in particular, is an odd behavior, isn’t it? I might not have liked the way the other guy was making me feel but, okay, he’s in me already and unless I feel like fighting (and sometimes I have), it’s better to let him finish than to initiate some violence (and I have opted for the violence a few times, too). I’m sitting and multitasking; I’m watching the hated New England Patriots beat the snot out of Kansas City and playing “Borderlands: The Pre-sequel” and these impressions are racing through my mind, making me either smile or wince depending on whatever moment is flying through my mind as I’m waiting for the words to come together.
I was thinking about a conversation I had with a guy many years ago and we were talking about what it was like for us to be the one being fucked and, in particular, I was thinking about how he was ranting and raving about guys who shot their load “too fast” and how upset he’d get over that. I remembered telling him, “I never let that bother me; the reason why he’s in my ass in the first place is so he can cum inside me. So if he does it quickly, the purpose has been served; if not, well, maybe he’ll eventually cum, maybe he won’t but it’s not always about the endgame…”
We both agreed that feeling that nut being busted inside of us was a good thing but it was about being in that position to begin with, submitting to his lust and, yeah, even having those mixed feelings about being there; we agreed that it was both a good and bad feeling; one’s desire for sex warring against the known taboos and how this war is taking place in your head even as you’re enjoying the slippery feel of cock inside you. He said, “I don’t ever want the other guy to stop so when he cums too fast, I’m always disappointed!”
I replied, “Hey, if he busts that nut quickly, that’s a compliment to how good my hole feels to him! Maybe it’s just me but the longer it takes for him to cum, the less fun it is.” He allowed that, yeah, it was just me and on this point, we agreed to disagree; we then agreed to disagree on whether or not the size of the dick mattered or not. He was – and I’ll say typically – all about bigger is better while I was of a mind that the smaller the cock, the easier it would be on my hole, that and dudes with really big dicks tended to use them more as weapons than instruments of pleasure.
I watched Aaron Rodgers throw his second successful Hail Mary pass and I’m just so disgusted at the defense that let it happen; the game is going into OT and I am not a fan of Aaron Rodgers at all; moments later, I’m smiling because the most disliked Mr. Rodgers has gone down to defeat but in the back of my mind, I’m still thinking about being fucked, how good it would feel and, yes, even how bad it would sometimes feel whenever I used poor judgement and gave myself up to be fucked but knowing that most of the time, you don’t know if the situation is going to be good or bad until you’re actually in it and he’s inside you. No, I never had any regret over those poor choices; having sex with a guy is always a judgment call and a crap shoot to begin with and you don’t always get it right – and even when you “know” that letting him inside you is the right call to make.
I thought about how the thought of having cock in their ass can make a lot of guys very damned uncomfortable because of the supposed threat to their manliness and that sense of esmaculation men are made to fear. It’s either surrendering one’s manhood or submitting one’s self to a prohibited pleasure and I’ve never had a real reason to question the lack of manliness on my part but the pleasure? The pleasure is real provided one can get the scary things out of their head about it. I thought about how I went from being fucked as a matter of course to having a great lack of respect for any man who is willing to put his dick into me but not willing to find mine filling his ass; what, do you really think this only works one way? You learn to be jaded about it and, yes, that even goes for me as well because you’d have to be my idea of a special guy to be able to stick it in and bust that nut inside me.
As I got ready to go to bed, the words still hadn’t coalesced; they were getting there but while my fingers were itching to take their place on the keyboard, it just wasn’t meant to be. I woke up this morning and the words were just about there, getting closer as I went through the morning routine and just as it began to snow here for the first time this winter, the words were finally ready and here they are. Those of you who know what it’s like to have dick in your ass, you’ll understand it; it might not be an every day thing to do but, yeah, you know, don’t you? The nasty, illicit and even immoral fun that comes with having your one-way street being bucked by the traffic of a hard prick? That sense of comfort once he’s inside you, thrusting, humping, and just working toward busting his nut, whether it’s directly inside you or he’s spilling into the protective wrapping of a condom? Even that sense of “pride” that can be felt to know that you’re able to do something that scares the living daylights out of most people and, yes, perhaps the one thing that makes sucking that dick a better option?
I wrote about this once before and, yeah, it was worth repeating…