After that day, John and I talked about us and our private yearnings. Being a total homosexual, with no interest whatsoever in even going as far as touching a female, my fantasies of a total sexual experience with a man continued. I felt a certain frustration believing that John's interest in males went only so far as mutual masturbation. I wanted more from him. I knew it was foolish to believe one could really fall in love with someone after only one short sexual encounter. I had read enough on the Internet about how wrong it is to allow oneself to confuse lust with love. However, I couldn't help it. I was sure that what I felt for John was something very akin to love. In addition, I wanted a more complete sexual relationship with him where we would act out all the fantasies I had harbored for so long. When it came to sexual activity, I wanted more than just masturbation.
I knew John was married. I knew in my heart that any kind of open relationship was impossible. I'm bright enough and sensitive enough to know that I would never allow myself to be implicit in any kind of problem in his marriage. However, we continued to talk by telephone and e-mail. John soon began to open up to me, and he seemed to be getting more in touch with the male oriented side of his sexuality. He began to feel that, at this time in his life, his feelings and interest in men were becoming more important, and he was now feeling certain longings in his relationships with men that may have always been there, but may have been suppressed. He wasn't sure. He did, though, finally come right out and refer to himself as a "Bi-sexual." He was no longer hedging.
John told me about some stories that he had written for Taletopia.com. Although, they were written about two years before, I could see clear signs of a homosexual side to John that was anything but casual. I had taken several creative-writing courses in school. More than once, teachers would impress upon us that "all writing is autobiographical." In other words, no matter if it is fiction or non-fiction, the mind of the author is always revealed. The story that he had written revealed the true longings that resided in John's mind. Here was a man who professed, in the beginning, at least, that mutual masturbation was, to him, the ultimate in sexual excitement between him and another man.
Why then, I asked myself, did he write so passionately and erotically about caressing and massaging the body of another man? Why did he write about kissing deeply and exploring the recesses of another man's mouth, sucking penises, savoring the sperm of another man, fucking another man in the ass and licking the cum from another man's asshole? Although the two men in his story were married to women, they eventually admitted they were gay. I was drawn to the story partly because John talked of the pleasure he experienced, as I had, of watching his own body develop and mature. As I often did, he felt pride when standing before a mirror, admiring his developing manhood. While we were different is so many ways; we nevertheless had so much in common.
I was literally aching to have another encounter with John. I knew now that he could provide a beautiful reality to all of my wildest fantasies if he would just come to grips with the realities of his own sexuality. I hinted to him that we should get together again, but because of his marriage situation, I didn't press it. I let him decide whether or not we should meet again and when and where. I gave up mentioning it, but one day John said he wanted to meet me again.
Again, it was a Motel 6. As soon as we entered the room, I was determined to bring out of John what I was convinced was there. As we stood there, I gently kissed him on the lips. This is something for which he had told me he was not ready. However, he kissed me back, very gently. Soon his tongue was lashing at mine in a passionate duel. I kissed his cheek, his eyes, and his nose. We began slowly unbuttoning each other's shirt. As our shirts fell to the floor, John kissed me on the neck and began running his tongue down over my chest and around my nipples.
Then down on his knees, he ran his tongue over my navel and down along the thick strip of dark hair that disappeared beneath my belt. He pressed his head against the bulge in my pants, and then undid my buckle and zipper and allowed by pants to fall to the floor. I was wearing no underwear and my cock sprung up, almost hitting John in the face.
I told John that I needed him to stand up and get out of his clothes so we could lie down on the bed. I removed all my clothes, except my boots. (A Texan never removes his boots!) As we lay down, I pressed my naked body against his. He then pushed against mine also, and told me that he wanted to feel my skin against his and to smell the maleness of my teenage body. I told him that I wanted to explore his body thoroughly. The mature male body excited me beyond words. As he lay on his back, I raised his legs and buried my face in the mysterious, dark regions of his crotch. I eagerly breathed in the musk-like aroma of his crotch sweat. My tongue fought its way through the dense snarl of hair in his ass crack until it reached his puckered asshole. I had dreamed of being able to tongue fuck a mature man, and now that dream was coming true. John's sphincter muscles snapped at my tongue as it entered his rectum. I soon pulled out, sucked in each of John's balls, one at a time, and gently rolled them around in my mouth. John was literally growling with pleasure as I pushed my face harder into his crotch, and as he felt the flitting of my tongue on his skin.
Getting into a 69 position, I teased John's lips with the tip of my hard penis. When he opened his mouth to touch it with the tip of his tongue, I surprised him by slipping it into his mouth. He held it there for a moment. I thought he might push it out. Then I felt the gentle swirling of his tongue on my cock head and, in the next moment, John sucked it all the way in to the hilt. My penis had never been encased before in anything but my hand.
Now it was embedded in the warm, wet cavern of John's mouth. I had never felt anything like it. When I first put my mouth on his penis, his large mushroom penis head felt firm and rubbery on my tongue. I had the feeling that this wonderful mature man had surrendered a part of his body to me. His sweet pre-cum tasted much like my own. I ran my tongue around his penis furiously because I wanted him to come quickly. I was so eager to have him flood my mouth with his sperm-the sperm of a mature man of 40. Wow! John's tongue action on my penis was about to send me over the edge. When I heard him start to moan, I could feel his cock head enlarging. I knew he was about to cum, which brought on my own orgasm. We both shott our loads into each other's mouth at the same time. The feel and taste of John's hot thick sperm in my mouth was exactly as I had dreamed. I held it in my mouth for a long time and let it slowly seep down my throat. I felt John's mouth sucking on my own penis until it was limp and dry.
We lay quietly for a long time next to each other, kissing lightly and running our tongues over each other's stomach. After a while we were both hard as rock again. Without a word, John got up on his haunches and raised my legs high in the air. He ran his tongue over the soft hair on the backs of my legs down to my ass cheeks. He gently separated my buns and swept his tongue over my asshole, covering it with saliva. Then pushing himself closer to me, he touched my hole with the tip of his hard penis. He said he had never done this before, but had realized not long ago it was something that he wanted to do very badly.
As he pushed, my asshole began to hurt, but I told him to keep pushing. Then suddenly, the large mushroom head on his penis popped through and into my rectum. The feeling of having part of John-this wonderful mature man-inside of me was beyond everything I had fantasized. He pushed harder, and the deeper he went, the more wonderful it felt. How many times I had dreamed of this while using my own vibrating dildo. Never did I realize what a real throbbing hard penis would be like. I looked up at John as he began to pump me in and out.
Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. I watched the sensuous muscles in his chest and stomach and arms flex and ripple as he moved closer to his orgasm. I was jacking myself off as I watched that wonderful mature masculine face begin to contort as his orgasm swept over him. I could feel the powerful throbbing of his penis inside of me and the warm flow of sperm as it filled my rectum. Just then, my own orgasm took over my body and he watched long ribbons of
sperm shoot from the tip of my penis up onto my chest.
Soon, John pulled out of me, and went down and sucked as much sperm out of my asshole as he could, and licking all over my ass crack and my buns.
After a short rest, John asked me if I would fuck him. Where had all the old doubts and inhibitions gone, I thought. However, he had developed a secret yearning to be fucked in recent times. I did the same as he did, and flooded his ass with saliva. I pushed my gorged cock into his hole as he held onto my shoulders. Although my erect penis measures seven inches, he pleaded with me to push harder and deeper. He reached down and pulled my hips hard against him. Then suddenly, without touching his own penis, he began spurting sperm all over his chest and chin. I could feel the surges pressing on my penis as I fucked him harder and harder. To feel the muscles inside of his ass contracting so violently brought me quickly to orgasm. He was still shooting his sperm as I was pumping my own into his rectum.
John told me that he had never experienced a sexual explosion of such intense magnitude. He said that there was a time when he never even desired to have such sexual contact with another man. He said it affirms the adage that no one knows what pleases a man like another man. He said there was no way his wife could ever know how much pleasure anal intercourse could give her husband, or to have his mouth flooded with another man's sperm. She would never think of having anal intercourse herself, and she really didn't like the taste of sperm. Moreover, she couldn't imagine in a thousand years that her husband would ever like those things. Only another man would know.
As for myself, I cannot find adequate words to describe the realization that John brought to all my fantasies. John and I experienced a profound sexual awakening with each other that day. I realized that all my fantasies through the years had been nothing more than mere hints of the sweeping passion that I was destined to feel that day.
John is now Renaissance Man. He has opened his mind. He has now exposed and accepted all of his subconscious yearnings. None of this means he does continue to love and respect his wife and son and treasure his marriage. Nevertheless, he now understands his true sexual nature, as he once never allowed himself to do. It is probably hard for a more mature man to admit all his sexual vulnerabilities to a teenager, which may account for some of John's early reticence in revealing the depth of his sexual longings for men. However, this is all supposition, and I fully realize that I may be pathetically, not to say unfairly, off base. One thing is certain, though. I have come to love John, in my own special definition of the word, and hold him in my heart as a very, very special person.
The Taped Cock
I'd met Don through the jack-off network, and had found him to be a level-headed guy, 65 years old, and standing about 5'6", a bit shorter than I am. He had short salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard in contrast to my clean-shaven face. We both wore glasses. He was only four years older than I, and we shared a lot of characteristics, such as being devoted to solo and mutual jacking. When he invited me to spend a weekend at his house, I accepted eagerly.
We'd met for dinner at an Italian restaurant that Friday evening, and then had gone to his place, a large detached house with a walled back yard. Next to his patio was a sunken hot tub, which appeared very attractive on that spring evening. It was right outside the Arcadia door to his bedroom, and we quickly stripped down and went outside. I saw that Bob's prick looked a lot like mine, a smooth shaft with a large bulge in the skin covering the head, and it tapered to a nipple in front, just as mine did. However, the nipple was encased in white surgical tape. When I asked about this, Don explained:
"When I was a kid, my cock looked just like yours. Puberty changed that. My big mushroom cock-head just grew out of my foreskin. I ended up with the skin covering only about three-quarters of my cock-head, and I didn't like to have the tip of it exposed and rubbing against my clothing. When I asked a doctor what I could do about that, he just laughed and said he could circumcise me. I didn't like that at all, and never went back to that doctor.
A few months ago, I heard that I could stretch my foreskin by taping it closed in front of the head. I tried that, and it worked. Right now, my foreskin goes right to the end, although I intend to keep taping until I've got a nipple like yours. Here, let me show you what I've got." He peeled the tape from the end of his hood, and I watched the nipple disappear as the foreskin slipped back to form a slight pucker right at the end of his bulging mushroom head. I looked and nodded.
"I like to skin back when I'm in the hot tub," he said as he drew his ample foreskin back to lock behind his high ridge. "The hot water feel good on my naked tip. Anyway, I've had the tape on for three days, and the head needs a good rinse." I did the same, and we stepped into the tub, relishing the bubbles that climbed up our bodies as we enjoyed the heat.
"I'd heard of cut guys using tape to stretch the skin of their cocks to form foreskins," I said as we lolled in the water. "You're the only guy I'd heard of or met who used tape to stretch what he already had. It seems to be working."
"Well, I feel that I just want a little more length," he explained. "That's what I like about your dick. You've got a nice long foreskin, and that must give you a nice long stroke when you massage it. Anyway, I'll find out how long a stroke you get when we get serious later."
During the conversation, I also found out that he'd experimented extensively in subtle ways to stimulate his cock, as I had, and we enjoyed sharing techniques. Both of us would use different techniques during a single session, sometimes jacking with our foreskins, rolling them sensually over the head, but also trying various bare-headed methods for variety. Strangely, we didn't get very hard despite the sex talk, although I felt my prick stirring with a half-erection in the warm water. After about half an hour, we'd had enough, and went inside to dry ourselves.
"I see your tip swells in the warm water, just like mine," he observed. My cock-head was swollen and glossy, with the foreskin still bunched up behind the high ridge. His mushroom was purple and even wider than my glans.
"Well, I think the tight foreskin behind the ridge forms a sort of tourniquet, making it swell," I replied as I snapped my hood forward to re-cover my glans. The hot water had relaxed the ring muscle in my foreskin, and now the opening gaped, a one-inch diameter orifice through which I could see the front part of my domed glans. "I see yours really swells too. How are you going to get the skin back over it?" I asked. By this time we were both full-hard, and our cocks were eager for stimulation.
"No problem," Don said, reaching for a plastic squeeze bottle on the bedside table. "This is glycerin, which is a terrific lube and it mixes well with pre-cum, unlike a lot of other artificial lubes. Watch this." He pulled back hard on his foreskin, exposing the deep groove behind the ridge, and squeezed a few drops into the crack. Then he pulled forward, and the hood slipped neatly over his glans, stopping half-way down the length. Meanwhile the cool air had made my hood shrink to its usual snug fit.
"It gives a warm feeling, too, but much more gentle than any sort of liniment. Here, try some." He held the bottle over my cock and I pulled back hard on my foreskin to let him squeeze some lube into my hood. I pulled the foreskin forward, and felt the sensuous friction as the tight ring of foreskin ran over my high ridge, then down-hill to the end of my glans.
"See, you've got enough skin for a full stroke," Don pointed out. "Mine only comes half-way up the head. I reached for his cock, tugging gently but unable to bring the hood farther down his swollen glans. I pulled it all the way back, then forward, with the same results. Now I shifted my grip and grasped his foreskin with my five fingertips, right over the ridge, and began stroking it sideways around the corona. His cock throbbed in my fingers, and I knew I'd reached him.
"I think that'll take care of stroking your foreskin," I said with a smile as I continued. Don wrapped his fist around mine and began stripping it back from the head slowly and lovingly as he commented on my penis:
"I really like your cock," he said. "It's n
ot only the long foreskin, it's the big German helmet under it. I like the big flaring ridge because it looks so sexy, and I like the way your piss-hole looks like a teardrop. I like the pink color around the hole, and how it darkens to purple farther back on the head. Look at this." He pulled my foreskin back beyond the rim, and we looked at the back-face of my ridge.
"It's such a deep purple it's almost black," he said. "It's also got those little studs you don't see on too many guys. Those are all little nerve endings, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, they are, and they're very sensitive." I recalled the times a partner had given me direct action on those little nerve buds and brought on a howling orgasm that left me helpless and gasping.
"But most of all, I like that long foreskin," Don said as he relaxed the tension and began dragging my foreskin forward again as we sat on the queen-size bed. Don had spread a large towel under us as we faced each other, legs apart, and worked on our cocks. I cupped Don's balls as I slowly rotated his foreskin over the ridge of his big purple mushroom, and watched the drops of pre-cum flowing down to mix with the lubricant. In turn, he stroked my hood back and forth in long, sensual strokes, and I felt the familiar tickle in my cock-root as the first drops of lube began their long crawl up my tube.
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