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Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: “That’s Gotta Hurt a Little, Huh?”

22 Jun

As I sat astride him, I was sweating so much that it felt like being under a waterfall of sorts; I was hot and sticky with sweat trickling into my eyes. I ignored these things and just as I was ignoring the rather obscene, squishy sounds coming from beneath me as I moved myself all over his dick… and I couldn’t ignore that so much. He was huge – not just long but thick, too, with a cock knob so big that when I was sucking him, I had a bit of a problem getting it in my mouth… but that monstrosity got sucked.

Not five minutes ago, he had been where I was now and as he moved and gyrated, I was kind of in thrall watching his massive erection bobbing all over the place and, admittedly, just a bit envious. Not because he had a big dick; I hadn’t cared about dick size one bit. No: My envy was over the fact that he was hard to begin with, something that I’d never been able to do when someone was screwing me. I had shot my load into him and it seemed to delight him as he smiled broadly and… giggled while urging me to give it all to him.

He got off of me, grabbed the bottle of lubricant – and a lube that I wasn’t “happy” with. I’d tested its slickness and found it to be too thin for my liking and as I struggled to keep my eyes open to see him applying huge globs of it to his dick, I knew his impending entry into me was going to be a lot more not-easy than his size and girth was already predicting. He handed me the bottle and I used a lot of it to get myself as lubricated as possible; the scientist in me had already determined that given its lack of slickness, once he got inside me, it would wear away quickly. My thoughts, as I straddled him – and because he had said, “I want you on top…” was that this was going to be interesting to deal with his “monster meat” as well as the scorching friction I knew would show up at some point.

Truth was I wasn’t quite ready; my body hadn’t fully come down and “reset” after my release but this wasn’t just a matter of honor; I wanted him in me and, in part, “tired” of listening to him talk about how big his dick was and all that other stuff that, again, meant absolutely nothing to me. I positioned myself above him; I could see the anticipatory look in his eyes as I rubbed that huge knob against my hole before taking a long, deep breath and relaxing… and sat right down on him without a moment of hesitation. I felt his knob shove my muscles aside like they weren’t even there; I imagined a ripping sound as his head passed into me and I know I winced a little but kept going anyway until I got all of his dick in me that was going in me.

“Damn…” he had said as I took more deep breathes and willed my body to relax even more. He’d seen what I’d done and I guess that his exclamation was due to him not having someone do that often if at all. I began to move; the discomfort of his entry was almost forgotten; nothing mattered at this point other than his cock sliding in and out of me and getting to the moment when he’d cum in me. I “hated” to admit to how much I wanted to feel him do this… but I also remembered how I had been feeling before I’d met him: I needed to get screwed and nothing was going to make that need go away other than what was happening right now.

It was strangely quiet with little of the “usual verbalizations” one could expect. We were both breathing heavily, the bed was making noises due to our movements; that squishy sound was less noticeable – as predicted, the slipperiness didn’t hold up all that well and the friction being generated wasn’t totally unpleasant as it was doing a number on my prostate and sending orgasmic shivers through me as well as that feeling that I either had to pee… or I had to cum: I was never sure which was which. Despite all of that, I was still moving atop him and as a lot of women had inadvertently taught me every time they’d ridden me; his groans and increasing thrusts told me that he was enjoying being inside me and as much as I was enjoying him being there.

They say all good things must end… and this wasn’t any different. He was thrusting into me so hard and fast that it was to my benefit to stop moving. I was getting more and more uncomfortable; the friction he was creating in me could be felt a lot more and making me even more uncomfortable… but there was nothing to be done about it and only one thing could act as a salve. I felt his dick swell a mere moment before he gasped, started cussing – why do guys do that? – and then his dick was pulsing very strongly inside of me. I couldn’t feel his cum shooting into me but those pulses were telling me everything I needed to know. A crazy-assed thought flashed through my mind – well, two of them did. The first was a memory from my past of being screwed and the guy was cumming inside and had me thinking that he was trying to get me pregnant… and the next thought was that if I was a girl – and given how much his dick was still pumping strongly – he would probably well and truly knock me up.

Then, stillness. No other sounds than his heavy breathing that covered up my sigh of satisfaction and relief or, really, momentary relief because due to his length and thickness – and his gradual softening didn’t make him any less girthy – now I had to get him out of me and, um, kinda aiding that in that certain way wasn’t going to help much in this situation. I slowly eased myself off of him; I don’t know if he even noticed the look of concentration on my face. I could have just gotten off of him but experience had taught me about muscular rebounding and how some muscles act just like rubber bands and when they suddenly stop being stretched, they snap back to the way they were so, no – just hopping off wasn’t something I wanted to do because that “snapback” not only didn’t feel good, it had a tendancy to make me want to throw up. It took me a good minute to ease him out of me; he sighed and so did I but probably not for the same reasons. I flopped down next to him; between my earlier release and my efforts atop him, I was quite tired and, importantly, the need to be screwed and creamed had been sated.

For now. We lay side by side grinning at each other and telling each other how good everything was when he suddenly asked, “That’s gotta hurt a little, huh?”

Yeah, it did but that’s just part and parcel of things. I recall overhearing – and having others “testify” that being fucked in the ass hurts like a motherfucker and such a thing should be avoided at all times and at all costs. What I had learned, silly me, that it can hurt like that motherfucker going in but the more you relax – and the more slipperiness being involved – at some point the pain and other discomfort will fade into the background… as long as the guy isn’t trying to pound the crap out of you.

To his question, I just shrugged because it is what it is and I’d long since understood that in this, there is no pleasure without a modicum of discomfort… or a lot of it and depending. I did say, “That’s to be expected…” and since I was looking at him, I saw him nod in agreement and understanding. My mind flashed back to the moment I had entered him and while I wasn’t as long or as thick as he was, yeah, he felt me just the same.

“It just hurts so good,” he had said as he idly toyed with my nipple that was closest to him.

“Yeah, it does,” I agreed. My body involuntarily shuddered as it remembered what it felt like having him making contact with my prostate and what I’d been doing to… maximize that contact. It’s a weird feeling that feels good but not all that much; it’s always made me think that the male prostate is insane in that it likes being “touched” and doesn’t.

“You were doing a number on my prostate,” he said and as if he somehow knew what I was thinking about.

“Like you weren’t doing a number on mine?” I asked and he actually had the “nerve” to look sheepish and, perhaps, a bit embarrassed. I wasn’t sure… and I didn’t care all that much; I just wanted to come down off that orgasmic high I most certainly experienced… and to do a bit of cleaning since, um, I was, let’s say, leaky. We got up and made our way to the bathroom to take care of what was made necessary; I didn’t know about him but I was now a bit sore and my insides – and thanks to his probably cheap lube – felt like I had a bit of rug burn. It crossed my mind for a moment as we washed up that given his length and girth and how… vigorously I rode him, I was going to be “walking funny” until things settled down… and that, too, was to be expected just as not being able to sit comfortably for a few was.

“You know, I would have been happy if all we did was suck each other off,” he had said. “But, I knew I wanted you to fuck me – ain’t that weird?”

“Not really because I was thinking the same thing,” I said; I wasn’t about to tell him that I had been jonesing to get the high hard one for a few days and if we hadn’t agreed to screw each other, when we’d met, I was already hatching a plan to get him inside me and scratch that itch… and it was pure chance that he was very well equipped to scratch that itch really good.

“The first time I did this? I didn’t think I was going to like it,” he said. “Did you know that you would?”

“No – I had no idea about it at all until the guy who did me tried to stick it in me. He couldn’t and what little he did get in me did hurt… then it felt good and then he shot his load all over my hole and that felt even better,” I said, my mind racing back to that “fateful” day. “After that, it just made sense… if that makes sense. Just like sucking dick, it felt… deliciously wicked and nasty to do something we weren’t supposed to be doing.”

“I know that’s right,” he agreed. “Do you it every time you’re with a guy?”

“Not anymore,” I admitted. “When I was younger, getting fucked was a given; if a guy wanted to fuck you, there was no question about him being fucked. At some point, though, doing it as a matter of course stopped being the fun it once was so nowadays, I only do it when, well, when I feel the need to or, in your case, with someone I feel comfortable enough with.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said as he nodded. “I found out that because my dick was so big and fat, a lot of girls would run away from me but the fellas? They liked that I was big and fat and, yeah, I felt that if I fucked them, it was only right that they fucked me, that and, um, I liked being fucked.”

“You said it right,” I said. “Besides – if guys wanna fuck each other, there’s only one place other than their mouths, right?”

“Yep!” he said with a laugh but quickly sobered up and said, “I used to feel bad to think that I’ve probably been fucked more than most women I know have.”

“I’ve felt like that myself,” I admitted. “And it’s probably true, to an extent. I just had to learn not to be embarrassed or feel weird about it. It feels good and that’s all that matters.”

“Guys are too scared because they think it’ll make them gay or some shit like that,” he said; I could pick up a hint of frustration in his voice and one that I, too, knew all too well.

“Most people are,” I said. “You’re either into it or you aren’t and there’s reason for both.”

We both got quiet after that and returned to his bedroom to start looking for our clothes that got discarded in a hurry not all that long ago. I was still looking for one of my socks when he asked, “Do you have time for us to, uh, suck each other off, you know, one for the road?”

I probably didn’t but since I had so much fun sucking him earlier, I thought it would be a great idea to do it again and this time be able to feel and taste his cum and I thought it would be “wicked” and “nasty” to suck the dick that, not all that long ago, had been buried in my ass and more so now that it was nice and clean again.

After we blew each other’s brains out, it was time to go. We both agreed that we should get together again to do this but I also had a sense that we were both just being polite and that chances were good that our first time together would be our last. Not that it hadn’t been fun having sex with him but, yeah, sometimes, that’s just the way it goes. If nothing else, I would always have the memory of what it was like to have him inside of me and so deep that I really could feel it in my stomach and I was definitely going to remember feeling his dick pumping like mad and filing me up with his cum as well as the havoc his length and girth wreaked on my prostate.

My butt was sore and I squirmed on the seat of my car trying to get comfortable… and it was worth it.

 
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Posted by on 22 June 2021 in Today's Bisexual Thoughts

 

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