Let the Games Begin

The other day, a guy was making a food delivery and he seemed kinda stunned when he looked to his right a little and saw a game paused on my Xbox One, prompting him to ask who was playing the game.  Since I know there’s just the two of us and our cat, it seemed to be an odd question and more so since Linda wasn’t even in the room… and the cat was in hiding (and can’t hold a controller).

So when I told him I was playing Battleborn, he asked how old I was, his surprised deepened as if it never occurred to him that someone my age can play games on an Xbox One… or at all.  I offered unto him that I happened to know there were people older than I am playing games like Borderlands, Call of Duty, Gears of War, etc., and, I dunno, I guess I got some major props from this guy.

I play games of some kind every day, several times a day on either my iPad or my Samsung tablet and, yes, my Xbox One rarely gets turned off because I usually have a game in progress.  Thanks to my Xbox Live Gold membership, I have access to a lot of free games like the one I’m playing now, Watch Dogs, or the occasional free trial for games like Battleborn, which I went and purchased.  Both of these games reminded me of something kinda important, like how tough it can be to figure out a new-to-you game and more so when there’s no manual readily available.

Sure, I can go online and down one… but where’s the fun in that?  Yesterday, I’m playing Watch Dogs and feeling the frustration a bit because I haven’t really caught on to all of the game’s nuances, which is getting me killed repeatedly and all because I have no idea what to expect despite knowing what an objective is.  Like the part that drove me crazy for a while – getting sent to prison to find this guy and convince him not to rat me out to the cops – and only armed with my trusty and powerful smartphone that allows me to hack pretty much any- and everything.

I get out of my cell but now I have rooms to sneak into, stuff to hack in order to find this guy but I gotta do it without any guards seeing me.  Getting past this part was aggravating but I finally get to where this guy is – the guards are kicking his ass to convince him to give me up and now I finally get my hands on a weapon – a shotgun – and it’s simple:  Take out the guards, question the dude, get out.

Uh, not that simple.  It took me about fourteen tries to kill all of the guards… then the game tosses in something I’d not encountered:  A practically bulletproof “enforcer” who blew me away while I sat here asking, “What the hell is that?”

Now, I’m not above looking up the fan Wiki and finding out what I don’t know about a game… and it seems that if all you have is a fairly wimpy shotgun, the only way to kill an enforcer is to shoot him in the head… and as many times as you can while he’s busting caps in you.

Took me another five or six times before I finally offed the enforcer and the other two “normal” guards that sneaked in and capped me once.  Now I gotta get out of the prison, past a slew of cops waiting just outside the door and, oh, yeah, a helicopter!  While I’m doing this – and it only took three tries to eventually escape – I was thinking about how much fun it is to learn a game blind but, again, how frustrating it can be because you just have no idea what the game is going to throw at you next.

There are some laughable and somewhat embarrassing moments, like any time I steal a car and have to drive it.  I am an experienced in-game car driver but this game reminds me of the very first time I tried to drive a car in a game.  The driving controls are familiar… but the way the cars respond has me spending more time wrecking them than actually driving them; in one part where I was being chased by the police, man, I destroyed more property than Hancock and killed more civilians than in any game I’ve ever played and all because the damned cars are hard to control.  I did (eventually) escape… but not after totally trashing ten different cars and hundreds of civilians!

I’m gonna take a closer look at the sensitivity controls; they either need to be dialed down or up so that I have better control; otherwise, the civilian population will get wiped out.  Oh, before I forget, this game is played in a beautiful rendition of Chicago, a city I’ve been to quite a few times so that helps… some but the game’s graphics is among the best I’ve seen.

Now, Battleborn.  It’s a great game if you like shooting things and the game has a slew of characters at your disposal and all with different abilities and weapons.  You can play it solo or join up with others.  To learn the game, I started playing solo and some levels are easy, some tough and intensive, but I’m thinking, okay, this is challenging and I can see why the preferred playing mode is multiplayer because there’s just too much for one player to pay attention to and tends to result in a lot of respawning.

But I’m getting through it until the “episode” I’m currently stuck in; I have the “help” of another character fighting off all kinds of enemies until I get to the very last one and, yeah, I’m pretty pissed off because for this round, I have to protect a device from being destroyed and I’ve not found a way to keep it unscathed.  The last attacker shows up, I’m throwing everything I have at it -and right  along with some weapon emplacements – when the bad guy backs way out of weapons range and launches a mess of missiles at the device.

Mission failed.  Player totally bent out of shape, hands hurting from gripping the controller tightly and applying body language that never helps anything and the beginnings of a headache.  I’m used to playing games where there are multiple playable characters that have different abilities, like any of the Borderlands games and because I play these games, I’m fairly decent at wiping out multiple attackers but I’ll admit that Borderlands has spoiled me because I have at my disposal a shitload of weapons I can pick and choose from to decimate the bad guys and to great and spectacular effect.

Battleborn gives me one, “upgradable” weapon along with a “DNA helix” of other abilities that I have to pick and choose from and, frankly, with the characters I’ve played with so far, some of those extra abilities suck.  Badly.  I know the level I’m currently stuck on can be beaten… I just haven’t figured out how to do it without recruiting another player to come into my game and help me out… which I kinda stubbornly refuse to do because I am a gamer, have been one for a long time now, and ego demands that I exhaust everything I know of before calling for help.

But it’s still fun even though both of these games are good at frustrating me.  Just as I learned to play the Borderlands games so that I’m not really thinking about what I’m doing or how to do something, I will eventually master these games as well.

Eventually.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Guys Are Funny

Those of you who’ve been reading/following me for a while know that from time to time, I mention how funny guys can be and how, at times, they can put some women to shame with some of the things they fuss about, like what flavor of condom is best for giving head and the pros and cons of anal bleaching.

That bi guys can have some pretty specific preferences seems normal on the surface because, sure, we all have them and regardless to sexuality… but these guys… wow, if the majority of them are wondering why they’ve not found a dick to play with, well, if they bothered to look at their requirements and see the tone of them, that question just might get answered.

Maybe.

There are guys who crave anal sex and they seem to have a collection of toys to rival any woman’s collection but then they wonder why jamming a twelve-inch dildo in their butt doesn’t feel as good as they had hoped or why something seems to be missing when they get pegged or their woman slips them the finger… but they are quite leery about experiencing the real thing in their butt and because, um, it’s probably gonna hurt a lot more.

Some appear to be obsessed… with BBCs – Big Black Cocks, which serves to remind me that if there are women who believe themselves to be size queens, well, ladies, I know of some guys who’d make you seem like you didn’t care how big the dick was when you read about the perfect BBC for them.  While some ladies like them eight-inches or better, these guys start at nine-inches and lose their minds for everything bigger than that; one guy commented that he wasn’t giving it up to any guy who wasn’t Black and not packing at least eleven inches.

But then he wonders why he’s still a virgin when it comes to dick?

One guy wrote something about the perfect man to take his cherry has to wear women’s undergarments – and with lots of lace on the panties.  Someone asked him, facetiously, if a three hundred pound bear of a man wearing a teddy would float his boat… and when he said that it would, wow, my brain almost shut down just trying to imagine that.

Another guy said he wasn’t giving it up to any man who couldn’t appreciate his bra collection and one that, apparently, makes his wife’s collection of bras look rather pitiful, if he’s to be believed.

Some guys have written that having sex with a man doesn’t do much for them… but a she-male (and one with a huge dick) is just what the doctor ordered and they’d never settle for anything less  Another guy said he was dying to suck his first cock… but someone would have to make him do it because he doesn’t think he could bring himself to do it on his own volition.

There are a handful of guys who say that they’d never have sex with a guy who wanted to suck their dick… but some of those same guys think it’s uncool for a guy to not want to suck dick at the very least.

Then there are the guys who don’t want anything that resembles a relationship… but the perfect guy to have their first time with must very much be into him or it’s no deal.  What cracks me up is that these guys don’t want or need a relationship but they have issues with casual sex.

The post about anal bleaching really gave me the giggles and especially the guy who asked, “What’s that?”

And, yeah, some of them bitch, moan, and whine about how funny women are about things sexual… then write shit that makes women appear to always be deadly serious about their choices.

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Another Meaning for Biphobia?

I was just sitting here, after doing some maintenance on my computer, thinking about the guys on the bi forum and kinda categorizing the things I see them writing about that prevents many of them from taking that initial plunge or, in some cases, returning to the deep end of the pool and are now standing on the pool deck, hesitant about jumping back in after a long absence.  As I thought about all of the reasons they give, I wondered if I was looking at a different form of biphobia, a word that’s now associated with those folks who are afraid of bisexuality/bisexuals?

One of the questions I ask myself as I read the many posts is what’s really stopping these guys from actually doing all of the stuff they say they wanna do?  Another one is, “Are the things they say are keeping them out of the pool really things that cannot be resolved in some way?”  What I realized is that many of them are afraid and while a phobia is defined as an irrational fear of something, the things they’re afraid of aren’t exactly what I’d call irrational and that those things are pretty damned consistent, i.e., the fears these men give voice to today are the same fears I’ve heard other men cite decades ago.  Lemme see if I can kinda/sorta list some of them…

They might be really gay.

They might catch something nasty.

They might get outed.

They might lose friends.

They might lose a girlfriend or a wife.

They might go straight to hell because they’ve broken faith with whatever religious beliefs they have.

They fear being rejected by other men, bi or gay.

They fear not being able to find someone to have sex with.

They fear casual sex.

They fear emotional attachment to other men.

They fear discovering that they might not like that which they want to do.

Some fear that they will like it more than they expect to.

There are probably more that I can’t remember right at this moment but, as I said, while they’re not irrational in a phobic kind of way, they are pretty consistent across time, i.e., I heard these same things from other guys way back in the 1970s and, forty-seven years later, I’m still seeing/hearing these things as reasons why these guys want to leap into the pool… but don’t.  They join the forum, not only looking for answers to the many questions they have but to be assured that, one, they’re not alone in what they’re thinking and feeling and, two, to have their fears addressed and, if possible, mitigated, eliminated, dispelled, whatever.  It’s not as if the experienced forum members fail to address their many concerns and accurately so but, at the end of the day, it’s up to the man asking the questions (or stating his fears) to decide whether or not he’s gotten the information he needs to dive on in and realize his desires.

It’s probably just me, but I find it… curious that a guy will post something about why he wants to suck cock so badly, explain whatever it is that scares the shit out of him about doing it and then have maybe fifty guys give him information that would allay his fears… but the guy still decides to stay out of the waters of the deep end.  Are they indecisive?  Do they have reason to believe that all of the guys telling him the deal about sucking cock are, in fact, wrong?  Are their fears actually a lot stronger than their desire?

The other rather consistent thing I see taking place is how logic doesn’t fare well against emotional issues.  I’ve seen guys share their fears, have seen the membership address them, and have seen the author come back and say that he understands all that has been explained to him and that his questions have been answered, his concerns properly addressed… but a few will come back and reiterate those same concerns and looking for even more answers when, in most cases, there isn’t any more information to give.  I’ve sat read this stuff happening and ask myself a question:  If fifty guys shared with me their initial experiences with sucking a dick and laid a lot of good and accurate knowledge on me about it – and I have no reason to disbelieve or doubt what I’ve been told, why haven’t I given it a go yet?

Well, the answer has something to do with their fear of not being able to find someone they can “lose their cherry” to; I’ve seen guys thank the membership for the good advice received and then become their own worst enemy by being very exacting and precise about that first dick they want to taste (or having in their butt) and, on the surface, it doesn’t appear to be related to fear – it looks merely like preference but when you take a big step back and look at this, what you see are a bunch of guys setting a conditional environment that will make sure that they never have that first experience because the type of guy “preferred” can’t be located anywhere on the planet (according to them).

It’s not that I blame or find fault in these guys for being afraid of whatever’s scaring them because I know this is some really scary shit to begin with… I just find it curious and a bit puzzling that when you have so many people doing their level best of allaying your fears, you’re still afraid just the same.  Yes, it’s a life-changing decision and one that can impact one’s life if they do whatever they wanna do… and if they don’t do it so, yeah, making that decision to go/no go is pretty damned important and one to not be taken lightly.

Now, some guys on the forum have gone on to set their fears aside and dive right on in and they’ve come back to share that they’ve taken the plunge and to say something along the lines of, “I really don’t know what I was afraid of – I should have done this a long time ago!”

Is it really possible for a budding bisexual to have an irrational fear of becoming that which they want to be?  Kinda looks like it, huh?

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Size Issues

Some time ago (and I don’t remember exactly when) I wrote something about bi guys being more of a size queen than some women can be and a lot of bi dudes are very much into “the bigger the better” and to the point where if you don’t meet some dude’s size requirements, guess what ain’t gonna happen despite any other qualifications?

What got me writing about this is something I just saw on the bi guys forum… where someone asked if the size of a bottom’s cock is important or not.

First thought:  What?  Let me read that again…

Second thought:  What?  Why the fuck would that matter if the guy on the bottom isn’t going to be using his dick on you?

This comes under the heading of just when you think you’ve heard it all, you find out that you haven’t.  Okay, so, when it comes to giving head, smaller tends to be easier to suck and anyone who has issues sucking large cocks – while fun and challenging – might agree that sucking a guy who’s only five inches when hard is less stressful than trying to work over a fat, ten-inch dick.  If you’re looking to be screwed, okay, if you attend the school of Bigger Is Better, of course you want the guy with the stupidly huge dick trying to test the elasticity of your anal muscles although, um, okay, if homey were more average-sized, that might work out in your favor later.

But if you’re the one laying pipe to a willing guy’s backside, why would you even care about how big his dick is?  I commented that, many years ago, I had noticed something:  Tops were well-endowed but bottoms were below what’s considered to be average.  It seemed to me to be a dominance thing:  If “Hank” had the bigger dick, then he’s the top and if “Benny” was smaller, his role was to take the bigger dick in his ass.  I even talked to some guys who were average or below and some of them said that because they weren’t “overly” endowed, that lack of cock on their part dictated the role they were to assume – being a bottom.  I even saw this “behavior” with guys who were grossly overweight; because they didn’t have that swimmer’s physique or some other athletic form, their role in this was clear – they’re the ones on their knees or on their backs taking the dick.

What got me kinda rolling my eyes is that quite a few of the men who responded to the posting has never been a top or a bottom; they’ve yet to have any kind of sex with a man.  I sat and read responses before I commented and I was seriously wondering why cock size would matter where bottoms were concerned?  Men are visual creatures when it comes to sex so I’d suppose that if you’re dick deep in some guy’s ass, looking at his cock either dangling in the wind (if he’s on his knees doggy-style) or lying in the creases or against his belly can add to the visual stimulation of watching your dick invading the bottom’s body… but that kinda assumes that your attention is even on the size and/or state of the other guy’s dick beyond taking note of it after undressing.

I admit to being a bit baffled about this one, just as I admit to my bafflement might be due to the fact that I don’t place a lot of importance on the size of a guy’s dick so while I can allow that size does, in fact, matter to some guys, um, why would it matter if you’re fucking him and there’s no chance of him fucking you?  I’ve seen lots of M2M sex where the guy being hosed down had had the bigger dick and the guy doing the hosing wasn’t even close to being what anyone would consider to be big.  You can go on just about any porn site and see examples of hugely endowed guys getting nailed in the butt, which tells me that, despite porn being what it is, the size of one’s dick doesn’t determine the role one chooses to be in.  I can even see, in real-life situations, where a bottom would be interested in the size of the dick about to plow his backyard… but why would a top be interested in this outside of maybe giving the bottom some head – and that’s provided the bottom even wants to have his dick sucked to begin with?

Surprisingly (or maybe not), there are some bottoms who hate being sucked; they feel their role as bottom means they do all the cock sucking and handle the “dick in the ass” chores and this is more prevalent than one might choose to believe.  It’s not all bottoms who feel this way and some do insist that before you fuck their ass, you suck that dick… except, um, some tops aren’t what anyone would call a cock sucker (but some are).  Yeah, and you thought having sex with women can be complicated?

I’m going to keep an eye on that thread just to see if the original poster comes back and explains a bit more about why he feels that the bottom’s cock size is important.  It just seems to me that if a guy is looking to top another guy, what is of greater import is whether or not the propositioned bottom says yes or not.  It also amazes me to see guys who haven’t had the sex of any kind yet developing these kinds of preferences although I suspect that those guys who are less endowed feel that they’d enjoyed being dominated by a much larger cock… except dominance, such as it is, doesn’t really depend on the size of one’s dick – that’s all attitude and mindset and the huge dick is just a very big stick used to beat someone with and, apparently, without mercy is the most desired way.

Just when you thought that women were funny about sex, you find that men can be even funnier…

 

Seven Years…

Just got the notification from WordPress about my seven year anniversary as a blogger!  I want to thank each and every person who follows me, reads my scribbling, and comments; every last one of you has made blogging a really fun thing to do!

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Breaking Down Barriers

On the bi guy forum, I revisited a post entitled, “Does Race Matter?” and, honestly, I wasn’t surprised at how many of the guys commenting says that it does and I admit to being somewhat disappointed about that.  You see, being bisexual is about breaking down the wall that others try to keep in place between being heterosexual and homosexual; it’s about liberating one’s self from the usual dogma about sex and dogma that is designed to be divisive up to and including “staying with your own kind.”

The men commenting cited things like a lack of attraction to men of other races and some – predictably – have preferences they’ve set up that excludes more men than they include.  It’s not that people don’t have preferences – we all have them and even I do… but where is it written that once you establish a preference you can’t change it?  One guy said that he’s never been with a Black man and he’s sure he wouldn’t like it if he did; yep, someone asked him why and he declined to answer but, as it tends to do (and has done for as long as I can remember), if you’ve never done it, how do you know you’re not gonna like it?  What makes us behave like this and, importantly, should we behave like this and more so when, as bisexual men, the one thing we have in common is our shared desire to have sex with other men and women?

To be bisexual means stepping outside of long-established comfort zones or, a bit more familiar, getting out of the boxes that society has built for us and has convinced us to stay in no matter what.  Is there a point of climbing out of the box of heterosexuality and into the bisexual box… but then seal yourself into yet another box because if you’re a Hispanic man, you wouldn’t want to have sex with an Oriental man?  Does it make sense to break out of the heterosexual box… but then impose limits on yourself because of the color of someone’s skin, or the size of their dick, or whether they’re gym rats or couch potatoes?

Apparently, to some people, it does make sense…

If I don’t want to have sex with someone, it’s because there’s something about them that I’m not feeling… but it’s not because of the color of their skin, what kind of physical shape they’re in, the size of their dicks and other things that, while having these things as preferences allow us to get what we want and in the way we want it, they also put limits on one’s ability to experience the diversity to be found in sex and, yes, even as a bisexual.  Sure, you could say that if you’ve had one dick, you’ve had them all… and that’s not accurate since, um, dicks come in all kinds of shapes, sizes, and colors, don’t they?  You could say that if you’ve had one man, you’ve had them all… except that’s not accurate either since, duh, we are not really the same no matter how much we try to homogenize and generalize each other.

A lot of guys who commented did say that the color of the other guy’s skin didn’t matter one bit and they, like myself, employ the KISS principle – Keep It Simple, Stupid:  Is he clean and healthy?  Does his dick work in the way we need it to?  Do we like him enough to want to have sex with him?  Is he willing to do whatever with you?  Is he your idea of an asshole/jerk?  If the answers are, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and no,” and, of course, if the time and place are right, then it’s on.  Now… if you’re a white guy and there’s a Black guy who meets this criteria… why would you not go for it?  If you believe that your preferences take precedence over your desire for sex, maybe you tell the guy thanks but no thanks… but by letting your preferences drive the car, how do you know that you just didn’t pass up a fantastic sexual experience?

Sometimes I think we get confused about preferences and principles or we treat them as one and the same.  Take the above-mentioned KISS thingy:  If the answers to those questions are all “yes” then, no – principle says that you don’t ever have sex with anyone who is an asshole, cunt, or whatever derogatory word you wanna use for someone who falls into this category.  This is a matter of principle… not a matter of preference unless you firmly believe that preference is always a matter of principle.  Now, let me say at this point that if this the way you think, you are well within your rights as a human being to think this way… but I’m the guy who’ll ask you why you think this way and simply because I’ve always been curious as to why we do behave in this way about a whole lot of things… and whether or not it really makes sense to, say, not like broccoli just because you don’t like the way it looks… but you’ve never tasted it.

Like, I know I can’t stand liver… because I was made to eat it or be hungry growing up; I didn’t like it then and, today, you couldn’t pay me to eat liver.  That’s experience at work… but if an Oriental guy passes my KISS test – and let’s say that I’ve never had sex with such a person – why would I say no to a chance to broaden my sexual horizons?  Does it make sense to shy away from a sexual experience when, at this point, I’ve not had an actual experience like this?  I’ve often wondered if our ingrained “fear of the other” and fear of the unknown plays into this.

Does race matter?  Should it matter?  Of course, readers and friends, you’re gonna keep your own council about this.  I know that we – humans – have a bad habit of allowing bad experiences influence future actions, like, having sex with a Hispanic person could have been so traumatic in some way that you’d never have sex with another Hispanic person even if they were the last person on earth and/or your life depended on it.  And, yes, it’s normal that if we have a bad experience, we’d rather not have another one so if you had a bad sexual experience with a Black man, sure, making sure you don’t have a repeat makes sense… except the reality is that just because you had a bad experience with that guy doesn’t mean that other bad experiences will happen if you go for it again because, um, despite what some folks like to say, we really aren’t all the same, outwardly or inwardly.

I also know that we tend to take the word of others when it comes to this; someone has a bad sexual experience and tells someone else about it… and then that person decides, nope, I’m never gonna do it with a (add some ethnic shit here) because it didn’t work for them… but how do you know it wouldn’t work for you since, um, they had the bad experience… but you didn’t or haven’t?  Like, a Black dude once told me that he’d never do it with a white guy and went on a rant about the one time he had a shitty sexual experience with a white guy and then added that no self-respecting Black man would ever have sex with a white person.  Of course, he then asked me if I’d have sex with a white person and I said, “Sure, why not?  Just because you had a bad experience doesn’t mean I’d have one…”  Let’s say that he greatly lowered his opinion of me and more so when he learned that not only would I have sex with a white person, I’d been having lots of sex with all kinds of people, color, race, and/or ethnicity notwithstanding… and because it could be done.

And I’d never say that I’ve not had a bad sexual experience with people – I’ve had my share of them… but I’m not gonna let something like having a bad experience with another Black man stop me from having any future experiences; it would stop me from doing it with that particular guy again and that does make sense.

So to bring this particular rant to an end, I’ll do so by saying this:  Bisexuality represents a flexibility in our sexual behavior but when we start slicing and dicing things to the nth degree, being bisexual becomes inflexible.  I prefer not to have sex with effeminate gay men not because I don’t like them but because, um, they make me insane trying to be more like a woman than the real thing.  Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t sleep with an effeminate gay man if he passes KISS because the real bottom line is that it’s sex and the sex is only going to be as good as the people involved can make it and that isn’t determined by the color of one’s skin as much as it is determined by what’s inside their head and their lust, passion, and desire to have sex.  I prefer not to kiss guys because, uh, some are just lousy kissers… doesn’t mean I’d never want to kiss a guy going forward and I’d never say that I wouldn’t because I don’t know what the future might bring.  I prefer sucking white dick because, er, um, I like the way white guys taste… but that doesn’t mean I’d say no to a Latino or an Oriental or a Black man if he passes the KISS test.  If he doesn’t pass the test, principle says nothing can happen and shouldn’t because one just does not set themselves up to fail or be disappointed when it’s kinda proven – by failing the KISS test in any way – that you’d be making a mistake just for the sake of busting a nut.

Thus endeth the rant…

 

Today’s Bisexual Thoughts: Escalation

So one day, I met with a guy who was anxious to end his curiosity over what it would be like to get with another guy.  He was really specific about how he wanted to go about this – let’s get together and masturbate together but that didn’t mean we’d jerk each other off.  I was okay with this despite being a bit amused because as we sat and talked about this, he had a very serious look on his face that I just found kinda funny.

That he wanted to start with the smallest of baby steps made sense; too many guys wanna jump into the whole nine yards as a first time and most wind up regretting such a decision.  Anyway, I assured him that nothing was going to happen other than he wanted to happen and I meant that; I’ve also heard of guys being told one thing, only to have something else happen and that’s kinda fucked up in my opinion.

So we go to his place and head straight to the bedroom where we both strip from the waist down; he puts some “regular” porn in the DVD and the stroking begins after the “usual” equipment compliments.  I’m not really watching what’s on the screen because I’m watching him trying not to look at what I’m doing and, yeah, I’m amused (but not laughing) at his running commentary about what’s on the screen as he slowly strokes his dick.

He’s restless and, to me, his body language is saying that this isn’t quite working for him because despite the action on the screen, I’ve noticed that he keeps getting soft and hard again and a little voice in my head asked, “You know what he’s getting ready to ask you, right?  Just wait a moment,,,”

Sure enough, he shifts his position so that he’s more or less facing me and asks, “Um, can I touch your cock?” – then adds, “If you wanna touch mine, that’ll be okay.”  So now we’re massaging each other’s dicks, not really rushing but literally getting a feel for each other.  I’m still watching him; he’s got his eyes locked on his hand around my dick and his eyes seem to be a bit… glazed and my little voice asks, “Care to guess what he’s gonna ask you now?”

As he tugs upward on me a fat drop pre-cum oozes out; he blinks, looks at me and asks, “What does that taste like?  Would it be okay if I tasted it?”  I tell him that it would be okay but he doesn’t have to if he really doesn’t want to.  He thinks about it for a moment then leans over and uses his tongue to lap up that drop and the touch makes me shudder.  He sits up and looks thoughtful as he processes what he’s tasting – then he nods as if saying to himself that it didn’t taste bad at all.

He then says, “Um, I think it’ll be okay if we, um, taste each other but, um, please don’t cum in my mouth, okay?”  I told him that if I was going to cum, I’ll warn him so he can stop; he says that he’ll warn me as well but I just shrug and tell him that warning me isn’t necessary and assured him that I wouldn’t be offended if he did cum while I was, uh, tasting him.

That was agreeable to him so we stretch out side by side and start tasting each other and I’m doing my best not to just devour him as he kisses my dick, licks it, and experiments with taking my knob into his mouth and, yeah, I’m trying really hard not to cum because his “fumbling” around is really pushing me to my limits.

He stops what he’s doing and taps me to get my attention:  “I’m going to cum!”  I stop and say that it’s okay if he does, take off the kid gloves and suck him down to the bone and he cums as if he’s been saving it up for a few years.  He’s cussing, moaning, and groaning as he spills into my mouth.  He’s done and I kinda prop myself up to look at him as he gets his act together; I ask him if he’s okay and he nods and mumbles something.

“What’s he gonna do now?” the little voice asks and, honestly, I really couldn’t say; he could move away or totally freak out and since I know there’s no way of guessing, I do an internal shrug and just wait for him to do or say something.  He blinks and shakes his head, shudders just a bit before looking at me with a slightly embarrassed smile on his face before clearing his throats and asking, “Should I finish tasting you?”

“If you want to but I’m probably gonna cum if you do,” I replied truthfully – I’m kinda proud of myself that I hadn’t lost it already.  He’s thinking and I can see the gears turning – then he says that he wants to taste just a bit more and I should let him know when I’m about to cum so he can stop tasting me and I let him know that I will let him know in enough time to stop.

He’s starts, uh, tasting me again but with more purpose than before and I’m just about there so I tap him on the head and say, “I’m gonna cum!” but he’s not stopping;  I gently grab his head to remove him but he slaps my hands away and I hold on long enough to issue a second warning that he studiously ignores… and I cum, my last “conscious” thought was, “Hey, I did warn him…”

We’re dressed now, sitting in his living room and he asks, “You knew I wasn’t going to just stop at us masturbating, didn’t you?”

I just nod and ask, “You knew that you weren’t going to be satisfied with just doing that, didn’t you?”

He laughs and nods; he says, “I really wanted to take those baby steps we talked about but, yeah, I guess I knew I wasn’t gonna leave it at that and I really didn’t want to.”

“I understand,” I said – because I really did understand.  “So… now what?  Has your curiosity been satisfied?”

He laughs again and says, “I’m not sure.  Would it be a bad thing if, ah, I wanted to taste you again, you know, to be sure?”

“I would say it wouldn’t be… but that’s really for you to decide,” I answer just as the little voice in my head says, “You know what he’s gonna say next, don’t you?”

I did and I wasn’t the least bit disappointed when he said, “You know, we should give it another try before you leave, you know, just so I can be really sure…”