I could feel his eyes on me as I danced with two of his former lovers both of whom I was currently courting, if that word isn’t too ancient. When the song was over, the girls both headed outside for a smoke so I sat down beside him and we small talked about music for a while. We’d always had an easy repartee in the two years we’d known each other. I wished I had his talent and he, my experience.
“How do you do it, man?” he chuckled.
“What are you talking about?”
“You walk into a room and everyone perks up. The women all look your way, make a point to come up and hug you…”
“It’s just that I’m no threat to them.”
“Bullshit, man. It’s charisma, dude. Sometimes I feel when I’m onstage I can conquer the world, you know, that I could have any chick in the room.” I shake my head agreeing wholeheartedly. I’d been talking to a girl just tonight who stopped mid-sentence when he came onstage and ignored me until he walked off. “But then I get out in the crowd, I feel like a phony. That they see through me.”
I laugh, “Are you a phony?”
“Of course, aren’t we all?”
“Yes. So why work so hard at it. We’re all ‘onstage’ all the time even at our most sincere. We act differently around one parent then we do around another, for example. We even spend inordinate amounts of time fooling ourselves everyday. The key is to accept that and not work so hard consciously trying to be something other than just being acceptant of who you are.”
He thought for a moment and asked, “So what is it with these women? Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re 20, even 30 years older than some of them and they just adore you. Not that, I mean, not that you aren’t charismatic and all. Shit, this sounds like I’m calling you old…”
“I am old. You are half my age and thanks for not mentioning ‘past my prime’, ‘hairy’ or ‘older than their fathers’. I just don’t feel it most of the time. In my head I’m in my late 30s, thus the attraction to 25 year olds.” Two young women walk by and smile overhearing me.
“See!” he marvels.
“They were looking at you, dude.”
“No way, man. Whatever. My point is, I’d fuck you if I thought some of that charisma would rub off on me.”
“Oh really?” Now, I’m cracking up. “How high are you?”
“No man. The shit pores off of you. I noticed the first time I met you. People like your attention. I watch women and men both put their eyes in your direction all night long. It’s like wherever you are there must be something going on.”
Right. “Well, send them over. I’m a lonely old perv.” He laughs and I continue, “Why are you so worried? Every woman I’m interested in wants to sleep with you. You’re a sexy, young, buff rock star with a deadly smile. I don’t get it.”
“Probably because they know they can have me. I’m an easy mark. A notch for their street cred, nothing permanent.”
“Ha. Yeah, me too.” Jokingly but I realize, “Aren’t we sort of in the same boat? You follow your dick around like most studs your age, which makes you not only a conquest of sorts but also someone they want to attach themselves to. The lure of that big, illusive fish in the pond. Untamable. They want to be the one that captures you and settles you down. Then I am as ready for action as you are but at my age impermanence is part of the pitch. ‘Fuck me while you still have the chance.’”
“So now you’re trying to turn me on with your sly, self-deprecating wit?”
“Oh, that’s what it is? I’m just being me or a version of me that is custom tailored to you.”
“Ah-ha. So that’s what attracts them.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t seal the deal. That’s what gets harder and harder over the years.”
“You get harder and harder over the years? Just keep talking. Whatever you’re doing is working.”
“Are you hitting on me?”
“That was my next question,” he smiles.
Now, we’re having fun. Listing each others attributes and going completely over the top. Mentioning shoelaces, hip swagger, bracelets, hip turns of phrase, retro bell-bottoms…on and on. Funny.
“I think all of the beer’s gone,” he muses after we both shut up long enough to watch a couple of girls kissing in a corner while they wait for the restroom. “Let’s go. The girls will never miss us.”
“Yes, they will.”
“Good.” There’s that cocky, youthful carelessness.
Once in his car, talk gravitates back to the gig. Easier than the unspoken weirdness of the unknown that we are actually in the process of chasing across town. His house was a mess of a place as expected of a band dwelling. His roomies were still drunkenly jamming at the after-party as we left but here the house was quiet for a change.
“Come on back…uh, drink? Joint?” but before I could answer he flipped on the light switch and I followed him down the hall. “Close the door,” he said, pulling a half-filled cap-less fifth of Jack off the nightstand next to the disheveled bed. We each took a sip; he set it on the floor and then walked me two steps backwards with his hand on my chest until my back was against the door and his face inches from mine.
“I’ve been told you’re a great kisser,” he said directly, looking at my lips.
“I’ve been told I kiss like a lesbian,” I retorted truthfully. The stirring below my belt at his daring, wide smile momentarily distracted me from his incoming kiss. It was wet, soft and not tentative but not all-forceful tongue lashing like the average hormonal 23-year-old.
“A lesbian with a mustache,” he smiled before interrupting my laughter again with his anxious mouth.
I could feel his excitement building as his hips pressed against mine. He pulled back slightly and said with a hint of hesitation, “Ever done this before?”
“Been kissed by a man while being pressed against a door by his raging hard-on? Uh, no.”
“Me neither,” he stated and with a hand on either side of my head, he pushed it back and up and bends to kiss down my neck to my chest. I spin him so that he’s the one backed up to the door and he grabs my shoulders and softly but decidedly pushes me down to my knees in front of him. I can feel the heat of his manhood through the straining fabric of his jeans. He yanks off his belt with one swift motion and I unzip his fly, the musky scent of his flesh hits my senses just as his spring-loaded member just misses my chin on its leap towards his taut belly. He pulls his t-shirt up over his head but I notice only his long, thick cock jutting skyward. My mouth instinctively caresses the thick ridge from its base up to his mushroom glans. Just as I reach that perfect head, I spin him around to face the wall and slap his ass three sharp times. He winces and moans as I spread his cheeks to lap at his hairless pink star. It takes no time before he is swaying his ass back and forth, his breath slowly increasing speed. Reaching down I unleash my stone-like appendage, dropping my pants as I stand behind him, leaning my weight into him. He bows his head between his crossed arms, which support him against the door.
“What do you want?” I ask. He mumbles something quietly. “I can’t hear you,” I whisper as I slap his ass again and reach around to briefly but tightly squeeze his magnificent hard-on.
“Fuck me now. Please. Fuck my ass, sir.”
This boy is a natural. I spit twice on my hand and ready my swelling head, which practically leaps towards his waiting asshole. I press slowly, instructing, “Push.” In short order, my large pulsing head enters him with a pop and he sucks in his breath and then says, through clenched lips, the side of his face pressed against the door, “Don’t stop. Slowly please…sir.”
Showing posts with label bisexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bisexuality. Show all posts
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Saturday, May 22, 2010
VOLUNTEER, ARM ME
i.
Lying naked empty bed, subspace chanting your name, more precisely imagined vision, your hard willingness slides deep into me, wanting to pull your hurt and sadness from you, your agonized courtship with the demon dark, some twisted sexual tonglen, wanting for you to release me. face down I wait, to read aloud to you my poem GREGORY & SON which you miraculously paraphrased/quoted to me in a bar the night our skin glancing/lingering first touched, man-hugs, public bond
Age of inspired spire of cock flesh, grip rockhard…to know somebody’d been paying attention to long distant rambling poetic spew, passed to you orally by first object of manly desire who took tumescent flirtatious scribblings and fed you, unbeknownest to me, you who seem to be in line to finally replace him, the decades long ache of not pulling his cocky radiance into my waiting ambush, he my unrequited object d’frustration
Replaced by coming attractions on fat screen IMAX dungeon of inexperience, my tortured sexual swan dive into reptilian eyeflash ecstatic swordfight, interventionist’s Erroll Flynnian devilish grin
And we’ve begun to meet twice weekly, unplanned, in a mouse-ridden neighborhood dive which I’ve stumbled toward/out of past year, when in town, gnawing a hole into her patience as she perhaps waits for something more concrete from me, some slick player’s move or direct con man statement she may be used to, something a tad more dramatic than my slippery usual barrage of sultry compliments and tongued flirtations damp with hesitant fear, instead
What I give her is a nightly handful of sweet gentle kisses, some nights more sexy than gentle, some nights the other and she accepts them from me, purrs back at this the fool for not asking more, reasons now lost over time and the back of my spine like an old ragged memory shakes around a vague twitch of regret’s passing stare. There you sit. Four barstools away, poking lonely texts into your cell phone or on a night when still on the clock watching the door for ne’er do wells, wrap warm arms around my cold shoulders. These nights when I am more enterprising than most and peel my ancient countenance off the couch to suck up to the bar early enough to slip on a long and languorous buzz that sounds suspiciously like the scream of worn rubber on linoleum, pulling closer for a sniff at your despair instead of the quicker, cheaper one-hour cluster fuck last call closing time music over mind sizzle
When my lateness finds you quickly next to me fast probing me, machine gun questions seeking solace nourishment distraction for your pinned iris sponge of a vibrant mind squeezed nearly dry by your day’s tribulations
And me quick-drawing an answer from my holstered hipness like some swami fuck-up trying desperately to say the right things formulated jazz-like, spontaneous solos, scatting lessons diatribes assaults from years of playing Answer Man to lonely soon-to-be divorcees, teenaged angst cannons and friends mending hearts torn asunder by love, luck and bad decisions or more often yammering smoke up the ass of my own unresponsiveness
As usual, even in my personal black cloud hailstorm careen into this coiled moment, etching one decisively cruel season, death march confusion, shape-shift financial ruin over romantic disillusion, my face pock-marked by gravel stenciled spike heels, fate’s unseen uppercut to the gonads, fleeting heartfelt advice culled from a too vast reading list, a sexy and sagely celibate roomy’s own missives formed from the ether when she’s not dreaming backwards years of faded Kung Fu re-runs, David Carradine in a wheelchair, old, sexy, oogling her; through it all my dying father’s comic timing and seventeen broken hearts sail toward you from my gaping maw, compassionate and hopeful in the greasy neon sizzle of these vanishing evenings
when what should be happening is my corpulence against your strong, lithe frame in a dark, wooden corner, one hand pulling your smoke and beery mouth around to meet my mine, long musician’s fingers gripping stubble skin, tight smile over chiseled jaw and cheek, the other reaching down to feel your growing excitement beneath my lunging grip minutes before I take this willing man, hard and fast against the dingy bathroom wall.
ii.
ah, that fragile Pisces heart…unsure and in need of reassurance, no matter their strength, tenacity and resilience, no matter their knock-out punch gorgeousness, overflowing sexual bravado, they are just as confused as the rest of us if perhaps a bit more sensitive, a bit more inclined to turn on tail and walk away without a word, leaving us hangers-on hanging awaiting their crumpled affections
ah, the mystery behind their evasive tactical ease, moving in shadows, ruled by their emotions, by heart not head, word has it great in bed, oh yes my spirit guide tells me what I need to know and I want to know it all
ah, the history behind those aching eyes looking for solace and peace and simple pleasures, wanting all the love in the world, all the wild abandon, all the silly giggles, hearty laughs, mental challenges that always seem just beyond their grasp
ah, the hard-edges, stead-fast armor, lurch for the comforting pain that one is used to, for when basis of all emotion is either fear or love, fear seems the easiest to come across and the most ingrained in our beings, learned through years of practice, long days of being forced down on all fours, long nights of seeing our teary reflections mocking us from the pools of whatever choice of distraction we are tossing back, bred into us from birth by family, religion, societal misanthropic greed peddlers, insecure louts preaching division and hatred, posturing knee-jerk reactors drunk with false power and the insatiable desire to find themselves perched on some rickety pedestal of their own delusion, propping fragile egos on eggshell precipice
ah, when all any of us really need is a glancing smile, a kind gesture, some help with our emotional groceries, fingertips on the back of our still hand while in conversation, soft touch in the small of the back as we move together through a doorway, a few sly flirtatious moments, double-over laughter as stories and histories and dreams are shared, 4am greasy spoon breakfast sandwich soirees waited on by ex-model from Kurzakstan, still smiling on her 2nd ten-hour shift lanky tall knowing we envision her between us being served a dessert of an entirely different sort, love love love love love love, JL says, “Yes is the answer / and you know that for sure.”
ah, so we are to love our neighbor as we would love ourselves…hmmm, kinky…love your best friend, your butcher, your baker, your candlestick taker, love your dentist, your dementist, your broker, toker, incessant jokers spewing non-stop pun-logic, hippie-chick bartendress smiling wide hugging harder soul of a healer, love ladies taken who just need to dance loosen the belt hike up the pants, love the friends that you can trust with your life, with your secrets, love your dogs and your enemies and your cats and your competitors, love the guy cutting you off on the freeway for actually NOT smashing into you, practice love practice love practice love be ready for the curve ball, the slider, knuckleball, change-up, accept the off speed pitch
accept the ones who make us crazy, the ones who make us sad, accept the fact that we are lazy, accept the Right-Wing foaming dad, accept, accept, accept, accept, accept, accept the moment, accept that you're alive, accept that you will die, accept those extra pounds, accept we will not finish every thing we want to, that we will not sleep with everyone we desire, accept, accept, accept that life ain’t easy and suddenly it is
accept is the flip side of except
accept fear accept love
love conquers fear, accept gentle kindness embrace gentle kindness give out gentle kindness be gentle kindness
~ May 16-22, 2010, 2204A for TJA
Lying naked empty bed, subspace chanting your name, more precisely imagined vision, your hard willingness slides deep into me, wanting to pull your hurt and sadness from you, your agonized courtship with the demon dark, some twisted sexual tonglen, wanting for you to release me. face down I wait, to read aloud to you my poem GREGORY & SON which you miraculously paraphrased/quoted to me in a bar the night our skin glancing/lingering first touched, man-hugs, public bond
Age of inspired spire of cock flesh, grip rockhard…to know somebody’d been paying attention to long distant rambling poetic spew, passed to you orally by first object of manly desire who took tumescent flirtatious scribblings and fed you, unbeknownest to me, you who seem to be in line to finally replace him, the decades long ache of not pulling his cocky radiance into my waiting ambush, he my unrequited object d’frustration
Replaced by coming attractions on fat screen IMAX dungeon of inexperience, my tortured sexual swan dive into reptilian eyeflash ecstatic swordfight, interventionist’s Erroll Flynnian devilish grin
And we’ve begun to meet twice weekly, unplanned, in a mouse-ridden neighborhood dive which I’ve stumbled toward/out of past year, when in town, gnawing a hole into her patience as she perhaps waits for something more concrete from me, some slick player’s move or direct con man statement she may be used to, something a tad more dramatic than my slippery usual barrage of sultry compliments and tongued flirtations damp with hesitant fear, instead
What I give her is a nightly handful of sweet gentle kisses, some nights more sexy than gentle, some nights the other and she accepts them from me, purrs back at this the fool for not asking more, reasons now lost over time and the back of my spine like an old ragged memory shakes around a vague twitch of regret’s passing stare. There you sit. Four barstools away, poking lonely texts into your cell phone or on a night when still on the clock watching the door for ne’er do wells, wrap warm arms around my cold shoulders. These nights when I am more enterprising than most and peel my ancient countenance off the couch to suck up to the bar early enough to slip on a long and languorous buzz that sounds suspiciously like the scream of worn rubber on linoleum, pulling closer for a sniff at your despair instead of the quicker, cheaper one-hour cluster fuck last call closing time music over mind sizzle
When my lateness finds you quickly next to me fast probing me, machine gun questions seeking solace nourishment distraction for your pinned iris sponge of a vibrant mind squeezed nearly dry by your day’s tribulations
And me quick-drawing an answer from my holstered hipness like some swami fuck-up trying desperately to say the right things formulated jazz-like, spontaneous solos, scatting lessons diatribes assaults from years of playing Answer Man to lonely soon-to-be divorcees, teenaged angst cannons and friends mending hearts torn asunder by love, luck and bad decisions or more often yammering smoke up the ass of my own unresponsiveness
As usual, even in my personal black cloud hailstorm careen into this coiled moment, etching one decisively cruel season, death march confusion, shape-shift financial ruin over romantic disillusion, my face pock-marked by gravel stenciled spike heels, fate’s unseen uppercut to the gonads, fleeting heartfelt advice culled from a too vast reading list, a sexy and sagely celibate roomy’s own missives formed from the ether when she’s not dreaming backwards years of faded Kung Fu re-runs, David Carradine in a wheelchair, old, sexy, oogling her; through it all my dying father’s comic timing and seventeen broken hearts sail toward you from my gaping maw, compassionate and hopeful in the greasy neon sizzle of these vanishing evenings
when what should be happening is my corpulence against your strong, lithe frame in a dark, wooden corner, one hand pulling your smoke and beery mouth around to meet my mine, long musician’s fingers gripping stubble skin, tight smile over chiseled jaw and cheek, the other reaching down to feel your growing excitement beneath my lunging grip minutes before I take this willing man, hard and fast against the dingy bathroom wall.
ii.
ah, that fragile Pisces heart…unsure and in need of reassurance, no matter their strength, tenacity and resilience, no matter their knock-out punch gorgeousness, overflowing sexual bravado, they are just as confused as the rest of us if perhaps a bit more sensitive, a bit more inclined to turn on tail and walk away without a word, leaving us hangers-on hanging awaiting their crumpled affections
ah, the mystery behind their evasive tactical ease, moving in shadows, ruled by their emotions, by heart not head, word has it great in bed, oh yes my spirit guide tells me what I need to know and I want to know it all
ah, the history behind those aching eyes looking for solace and peace and simple pleasures, wanting all the love in the world, all the wild abandon, all the silly giggles, hearty laughs, mental challenges that always seem just beyond their grasp
ah, the hard-edges, stead-fast armor, lurch for the comforting pain that one is used to, for when basis of all emotion is either fear or love, fear seems the easiest to come across and the most ingrained in our beings, learned through years of practice, long days of being forced down on all fours, long nights of seeing our teary reflections mocking us from the pools of whatever choice of distraction we are tossing back, bred into us from birth by family, religion, societal misanthropic greed peddlers, insecure louts preaching division and hatred, posturing knee-jerk reactors drunk with false power and the insatiable desire to find themselves perched on some rickety pedestal of their own delusion, propping fragile egos on eggshell precipice
ah, when all any of us really need is a glancing smile, a kind gesture, some help with our emotional groceries, fingertips on the back of our still hand while in conversation, soft touch in the small of the back as we move together through a doorway, a few sly flirtatious moments, double-over laughter as stories and histories and dreams are shared, 4am greasy spoon breakfast sandwich soirees waited on by ex-model from Kurzakstan, still smiling on her 2nd ten-hour shift lanky tall knowing we envision her between us being served a dessert of an entirely different sort, love love love love love love, JL says, “Yes is the answer / and you know that for sure.”
ah, so we are to love our neighbor as we would love ourselves…hmmm, kinky…love your best friend, your butcher, your baker, your candlestick taker, love your dentist, your dementist, your broker, toker, incessant jokers spewing non-stop pun-logic, hippie-chick bartendress smiling wide hugging harder soul of a healer, love ladies taken who just need to dance loosen the belt hike up the pants, love the friends that you can trust with your life, with your secrets, love your dogs and your enemies and your cats and your competitors, love the guy cutting you off on the freeway for actually NOT smashing into you, practice love practice love practice love be ready for the curve ball, the slider, knuckleball, change-up, accept the off speed pitch
accept the ones who make us crazy, the ones who make us sad, accept the fact that we are lazy, accept the Right-Wing foaming dad, accept, accept, accept, accept, accept, accept the moment, accept that you're alive, accept that you will die, accept those extra pounds, accept we will not finish every thing we want to, that we will not sleep with everyone we desire, accept, accept, accept that life ain’t easy and suddenly it is
accept is the flip side of except
accept fear accept love
love conquers fear, accept gentle kindness embrace gentle kindness give out gentle kindness be gentle kindness
~ May 16-22, 2010, 2204A for TJA
Thursday, June 19, 2008
POST-DIVORCE DEBAUCHERY
I was inspired by a member on AdultFriendFinder with her post called "what a year!" to note my new, sexy and fun accomplishments of the past four years since my divorce. Hopefully, this we be a constantly evolving list.
* Became a fully confident, sexually satisfied human being and most importantly learned to not define myself by who I was with and whether or not I was in a relationship. Finally, figured out that it was ME who made ME happy not someone else’s responsibility.
* Found that being polyamorous is not just an excuse to fool around, but also a chance to love and share and respect your partner(s) deeply. That polyamory has nothing to do with being promiscuous or with lack of commitment, love or devotion. In fact, it's all about deep commitment to honesty, sharing, openness and the happiness of your partner.
* Learned how to lose a great deal of my inhibitions
* Realized that yes, I am kinkier than most but still blown away by some of you all out there i.e. there’s always room for new insights ☺
* Became multi-orgasmic. Learned how to injaculate and men, it is worth the effort…way worth the effort.
* Became fully comfortable with my bi-tendencies and fantasies and anxious to find the right man to make them a reality. (I'm way picky, boys so be patient)
* Learned that my previous idea of what was sexually attractive was not only limiting but completely off-base…you are ALL gorgeous.
* Learned to have a lot more self-confidence in bed and in life.
* Started a sex blog that has become incredibly fun after years of secret journaling.
* Discovered that I love ass play and light bondage and discipline and role-playing even more than I ever thought.
* Re-entered a feverish and loving sexual relationship with an ex-lover from 27 years ago (who has been in a long, sexless marriage she is currently freeing herself from) and it’s SO much more passionate and sensual and intense than ever before. She is extremely responsive and open to many of my new sexual explorations and is as romantic and loving as anyone I have ever met. I adore every minute with her.
* Had phone sex for the first time and with my various lovers that shook the rooftops and allowed my verbal tendencies a new outlet.
* Had transcendent sex that totally changed my life spiritually and sexually after working through the initial confusion and misplaced emotional roller coaster that it began.
* Began a sexual tryst, a sort of more well-defined and heady “fuck buddy” regular scene with an “exploratory partner” that opened so many doors and realized so many fantasies and in spite of our early “rules” found us both just falling wonderfully for each other in an incredibly open, giving, sharing and non-clinging way that still reveals a wonderful depth of emotion and trust between us whether or not we are currently trysting.
* Had an orgy with two male old friends and two beautiful working girls that was just a blast.
* Had sexual relations with women 2, 13, 15, 25 and 28 years my junior.
* Admitted my bi-curiousness to a large handful of good friends and got nothing but positive reactions.
What
* Had sex with 2 different women in a 48 hour period.
* Had a woman lick my asshole. Amazing.
* Got fucked in the ass with fingers and toys by two different women. Wow.
* Fucked two different women in the ass a few times. Incredible.
* Stared into the eyes of a woman while she licked pussy for the first time of a woman who had never been with another woman.
* Got experience dominating and being submissive to a woman (with two different women together and three separately on a few occasions) using, whips, restraints, flogging, cuffs, tied one to a saddle, nipple clamps, dirty language, blindfolds, satin, food, candle wax, oils, dildos, vibrators, cock rings, feathers, silk dust and more…needless to say I am a full switch...
* Had my first threesome with two women: one who had minimal experience in group situations and the other who had zero experience with groups and zero experiences with women. I am officially and completely hooked.
* Had my cock sucked on at the same time by two women.
* Being tied and spanked and dominated by two women who took turns showing each other new tricks. Yum.
Where
(Most not actual firsts but fun none-the-less)
* Had sex in my shower in my new apartment (first time there)
* Had sex in my bed there also (first time there)
* Had sex in the hallway in my West Coast home (first time there)
* Have now had sex in every room of my West Coast home except for the basement
* Had sex in a hot tub for the first time
* Got a hand job in the car on Pacific Coast Highway
* Got a blow job in a strip joint (first time ever)
* Got a hand job on a train between NY and Philly (first time ever)
* Had sex in numerous hotel rooms
* Got a hand job in the open on a couch in a dark restaurant (first time)
* Pulled out my cock and rubbed up against my girlfriend in a phone booth in a restaurant (first time ever)
* Got passionate in numerous elevators (no sex yet but give us time)
* Accidentally ripped the headboard off the wall in a swanky Santa Monica hotel during my first new sex with my former/and newly rediscovered lover.
How Many
* my first and second threesomes (two different groups of girls – both FMF)
* my first bi-phone sex three-way. Me and a M friend on one end hovering over the speaker phone with my EXP on the other end of the line.
* More sexual partners in one year than in any previous year
* More different dating partners than I have ever had in a two-year period (actual sexual and non-sexual dates not including strip clubs…)
And this all before signing on to AdultFriendFinder...hmmm
* Became a fully confident, sexually satisfied human being and most importantly learned to not define myself by who I was with and whether or not I was in a relationship. Finally, figured out that it was ME who made ME happy not someone else’s responsibility.
* Found that being polyamorous is not just an excuse to fool around, but also a chance to love and share and respect your partner(s) deeply. That polyamory has nothing to do with being promiscuous or with lack of commitment, love or devotion. In fact, it's all about deep commitment to honesty, sharing, openness and the happiness of your partner.
* Learned how to lose a great deal of my inhibitions
* Realized that yes, I am kinkier than most but still blown away by some of you all out there i.e. there’s always room for new insights ☺
* Became multi-orgasmic. Learned how to injaculate and men, it is worth the effort…way worth the effort.
* Became fully comfortable with my bi-tendencies and fantasies and anxious to find the right man to make them a reality. (I'm way picky, boys so be patient)
* Learned that my previous idea of what was sexually attractive was not only limiting but completely off-base…you are ALL gorgeous.
* Learned to have a lot more self-confidence in bed and in life.
* Started a sex blog that has become incredibly fun after years of secret journaling.
* Discovered that I love ass play and light bondage and discipline and role-playing even more than I ever thought.
* Re-entered a feverish and loving sexual relationship with an ex-lover from 27 years ago (who has been in a long, sexless marriage she is currently freeing herself from) and it’s SO much more passionate and sensual and intense than ever before. She is extremely responsive and open to many of my new sexual explorations and is as romantic and loving as anyone I have ever met. I adore every minute with her.
* Had phone sex for the first time and with my various lovers that shook the rooftops and allowed my verbal tendencies a new outlet.
* Had transcendent sex that totally changed my life spiritually and sexually after working through the initial confusion and misplaced emotional roller coaster that it began.
* Began a sexual tryst, a sort of more well-defined and heady “fuck buddy” regular scene with an “exploratory partner” that opened so many doors and realized so many fantasies and in spite of our early “rules” found us both just falling wonderfully for each other in an incredibly open, giving, sharing and non-clinging way that still reveals a wonderful depth of emotion and trust between us whether or not we are currently trysting.
* Had an orgy with two male old friends and two beautiful working girls that was just a blast.
* Had sexual relations with women 2, 13, 15, 25 and 28 years my junior.
* Admitted my bi-curiousness to a large handful of good friends and got nothing but positive reactions.
What
* Had sex with 2 different women in a 48 hour period.
* Had a woman lick my asshole. Amazing.
* Got fucked in the ass with fingers and toys by two different women. Wow.
* Fucked two different women in the ass a few times. Incredible.
* Stared into the eyes of a woman while she licked pussy for the first time of a woman who had never been with another woman.
* Got experience dominating and being submissive to a woman (with two different women together and three separately on a few occasions) using, whips, restraints, flogging, cuffs, tied one to a saddle, nipple clamps, dirty language, blindfolds, satin, food, candle wax, oils, dildos, vibrators, cock rings, feathers, silk dust and more…needless to say I am a full switch...
* Had my first threesome with two women: one who had minimal experience in group situations and the other who had zero experience with groups and zero experiences with women. I am officially and completely hooked.
* Had my cock sucked on at the same time by two women.
* Being tied and spanked and dominated by two women who took turns showing each other new tricks. Yum.
Where
(Most not actual firsts but fun none-the-less)
* Had sex in my shower in my new apartment (first time there)
* Had sex in my bed there also (first time there)
* Had sex in the hallway in my West Coast home (first time there)
* Have now had sex in every room of my West Coast home except for the basement
* Had sex in a hot tub for the first time
* Got a hand job in the car on Pacific Coast Highway
* Got a blow job in a strip joint (first time ever)
* Got a hand job on a train between NY and Philly (first time ever)
* Had sex in numerous hotel rooms
* Got a hand job in the open on a couch in a dark restaurant (first time)
* Pulled out my cock and rubbed up against my girlfriend in a phone booth in a restaurant (first time ever)
* Got passionate in numerous elevators (no sex yet but give us time)
* Accidentally ripped the headboard off the wall in a swanky Santa Monica hotel during my first new sex with my former/and newly rediscovered lover.
How Many
* my first and second threesomes (two different groups of girls – both FMF)
* my first bi-phone sex three-way. Me and a M friend on one end hovering over the speaker phone with my EXP on the other end of the line.
* More sexual partners in one year than in any previous year
* More different dating partners than I have ever had in a two-year period (actual sexual and non-sexual dates not including strip clubs…)
And this all before signing on to AdultFriendFinder...hmmm
Thursday, May 1, 2008
BISEXUAL DREAMING
My dream is that the first time I see you, you give me a hug, hold me tight against you and whisper in my ear, “Tonight, you’re my bitch,” and then slap me across the face followed by a big old kiss on the lips...just wishful thinking Miss Mary.
I want you to use me anyway you want. Piss on me, slap me around a bit, fuck my yearning ass and take me to the edge and not let me come.
Then the next night, I want to take you forcefully, literally tearing off your clothes and fucking you hard until I cum all over your beautiful face. I’ll lick your face clean and then guide you by the hair into the tub, and force you to your knees and piss all over your stunning breasts.
Then if you’re quiet and behaved, I will stand you up and we will soap each other up and gently clean each other off and perhaps get dressed and go into town and sit at the bowling alley and talk of which hillbillies we’d like to seduce together or even better see if KC is working and when he least expects it we describe in detail what we just did and tell him he is next and when he looks all scared boyish and starts stammering, “Uh-okay...I get off of 6am” we tell him there will be a red power truck outside waiting for him to bring him to us and he is to not speak to the driver and to do as she says.
When he comes out of work, Felicia is standing outside her truck, “You’re late. They’re waiting...” and throws him to the ground. She hogties him with Velcro ankle and wrist straps behind his back and gags him with a pair of your damp panties she found under her bed, tossing him into the bed of the pick-up.
They drive down to your house, and she throws open the door with him over her shoulder. You are completely naked but for a black bra with your tits pulled out, a dog collar and knee high boots and you are on my lap facing the door impaled by my hardness sliding slowly up and all the way down on me. She tosses him to the floor, loosens his legs straps and jerks his pants and boxers down exposing his firm white ass.
You jump off of me and fall to your knees in front of her but she grabs your hair and pushes your face to his asshole, “Get him ready, baby...And you, bitch” pointing at me with my mouth hanging open, eyes bulging, and hard, wet dick in the air, “come here, now.”
I stand up and walk quickly to her. “I want to taste her sweet cunt on your cock,” as she bends over sucking me down her throat until she has sucked all of you off of me and then instantly has had enough, pushing me away. As she drops her camouflage jeans, Felicia takes you by the back of the head and pulls your face into her soaked quim and with the other hand shoves me in the direction of KC’s wet ass.
I push his legs together and fall down to straddle either side of his slim hips, finding my rigid wet cock slides easily up his tight ass. I lean over all of my weight on him. One hand slides up under his t-shirt, across his smooth stomach and chest pulling hard on his left nipple, my right hand slips my fingers, first into his mouth and then I grab the back of his head and push his face down into your white fur carpet. I slow and speed up my pace every third stroke and as I’m ready to come, Felicia says, “Pierce, you little slut, cum on my tits so Mary can watch.”
I leap up and just in time shoot my load all over her tits while you watch from below. She pulls you up by the hair and makes you lick all of my mess off of her and then the three of us kiss each other deeply tasting my sweet cum on your tongue.
After awhile she says, “Someone free the boy and let’s see if we can’t get him off.”
I untie his hands, pick him up by the dog collar she’d put on him and flip him over. You pull his jeans off and we see his mammoth cock. You and I both purr a bit and Felicia cracks up.
It's incredibly thick, deliciously long and extremely hard and the three of us crawl down and take turns licking up and down his beautiful shaft, pulling his balls into our mouths and flicking at his perineum and asshole teasingly, our mouths and tongues finding each other playfully as well.
In short order he shoots a monstrous load across his chest. You and Felicia fall back into each other’s arms, enfolded and rapturous. I roll a leg over his and run my fingers through his cum, lightly running a wet fingertip over his still throbbing hugeness.
He and I kiss for the longest time, slow, passionate until he starts moving against me. I roll over and turn my back to him and we spoon facing you as the two of you watch him slowly ease his thick meat deep inside me from behind his arm underneath me, the other hand wrapped around me, alternating between slow tugs on my cock and light flickering flutters on my taut nipples.
Not three feet away from you, I watch Felicia’s long fingers reach around and get you off as KC slowly pumps my ass. I feel him shudder and fill me with torrents of hit cum as you shiver at Felicia’s touch, staring into my eyes.
We all fall asleep there on the floor, entwined and when we wake, they are gone and you and I are face to face, naked, tied together and we can smell coffee brewing and know that one of them will be back shortly.
I want you to use me anyway you want. Piss on me, slap me around a bit, fuck my yearning ass and take me to the edge and not let me come.
Then the next night, I want to take you forcefully, literally tearing off your clothes and fucking you hard until I cum all over your beautiful face. I’ll lick your face clean and then guide you by the hair into the tub, and force you to your knees and piss all over your stunning breasts.
Then if you’re quiet and behaved, I will stand you up and we will soap each other up and gently clean each other off and perhaps get dressed and go into town and sit at the bowling alley and talk of which hillbillies we’d like to seduce together or even better see if KC is working and when he least expects it we describe in detail what we just did and tell him he is next and when he looks all scared boyish and starts stammering, “Uh-okay...I get off of 6am” we tell him there will be a red power truck outside waiting for him to bring him to us and he is to not speak to the driver and to do as she says.
When he comes out of work, Felicia is standing outside her truck, “You’re late. They’re waiting...” and throws him to the ground. She hogties him with Velcro ankle and wrist straps behind his back and gags him with a pair of your damp panties she found under her bed, tossing him into the bed of the pick-up.
They drive down to your house, and she throws open the door with him over her shoulder. You are completely naked but for a black bra with your tits pulled out, a dog collar and knee high boots and you are on my lap facing the door impaled by my hardness sliding slowly up and all the way down on me. She tosses him to the floor, loosens his legs straps and jerks his pants and boxers down exposing his firm white ass.
You jump off of me and fall to your knees in front of her but she grabs your hair and pushes your face to his asshole, “Get him ready, baby...And you, bitch” pointing at me with my mouth hanging open, eyes bulging, and hard, wet dick in the air, “come here, now.”
I stand up and walk quickly to her. “I want to taste her sweet cunt on your cock,” as she bends over sucking me down her throat until she has sucked all of you off of me and then instantly has had enough, pushing me away. As she drops her camouflage jeans, Felicia takes you by the back of the head and pulls your face into her soaked quim and with the other hand shoves me in the direction of KC’s wet ass.
I push his legs together and fall down to straddle either side of his slim hips, finding my rigid wet cock slides easily up his tight ass. I lean over all of my weight on him. One hand slides up under his t-shirt, across his smooth stomach and chest pulling hard on his left nipple, my right hand slips my fingers, first into his mouth and then I grab the back of his head and push his face down into your white fur carpet. I slow and speed up my pace every third stroke and as I’m ready to come, Felicia says, “Pierce, you little slut, cum on my tits so Mary can watch.”
I leap up and just in time shoot my load all over her tits while you watch from below. She pulls you up by the hair and makes you lick all of my mess off of her and then the three of us kiss each other deeply tasting my sweet cum on your tongue.
After awhile she says, “Someone free the boy and let’s see if we can’t get him off.”
I untie his hands, pick him up by the dog collar she’d put on him and flip him over. You pull his jeans off and we see his mammoth cock. You and I both purr a bit and Felicia cracks up.
It's incredibly thick, deliciously long and extremely hard and the three of us crawl down and take turns licking up and down his beautiful shaft, pulling his balls into our mouths and flicking at his perineum and asshole teasingly, our mouths and tongues finding each other playfully as well.
In short order he shoots a monstrous load across his chest. You and Felicia fall back into each other’s arms, enfolded and rapturous. I roll a leg over his and run my fingers through his cum, lightly running a wet fingertip over his still throbbing hugeness.
He and I kiss for the longest time, slow, passionate until he starts moving against me. I roll over and turn my back to him and we spoon facing you as the two of you watch him slowly ease his thick meat deep inside me from behind his arm underneath me, the other hand wrapped around me, alternating between slow tugs on my cock and light flickering flutters on my taut nipples.
Not three feet away from you, I watch Felicia’s long fingers reach around and get you off as KC slowly pumps my ass. I feel him shudder and fill me with torrents of hit cum as you shiver at Felicia’s touch, staring into my eyes.
We all fall asleep there on the floor, entwined and when we wake, they are gone and you and I are face to face, naked, tied together and we can smell coffee brewing and know that one of them will be back shortly.
Friday, June 29, 2007
FLYBOY
I am standing in the cozy aisle of the Airbus 319 that, five hours later, will deposit me in the sparkly new terminal at Philadelphia International Airport. For now, it is bottleneck crowded as we wait for the slowpokes ahead of us to shove their bulky carry-ons into the overhead bins. Suddenly, I notice through the thin material of my comfortable khaki trousers, a soft touch on my behind.
At first, I thought nothing of it considering our sardined nature in this warm and stuffy tin can as we wait on the tarmac. But, in short order the male in me lit upon the fleeting idea that, “Even if that hand’s persistence is an accident, perhaps it will be a beautiful woman to fuel my fantasies for the next couple of hours.” The airport was full of them—females of all ages dressed in that comfy and casual but stylin’ for vacation look.
I tested the waters by moving a bit left, right, then forward and still felt the presence of the clingy touch moving with me.
“I hope it’s not that tiny, hunched-over octogenarian grandma who smiled at me at the ticket desk” my rational and slightly paranoid mind countered. Then, I realized that what I felt against me felt nothing like the back of a weak, wrinkled hand. I was being goosed by a hard-on, pressed firmly against the cheek of my ass. I could actually feel the heat from it permeating the fabric and beginning to warm my skin.
Finding myself taken by surprise, not just by this unusual occurrence, but also, by the rising sensation of my own growing curiosity, I slowly turned to meet the eyes of a stunningly gorgeous young man in his early 20s. His head was halo’d by a crown of sun-bleached blond curls, his eyes, robin’s egg blue.
I must’ve looked surprised for he gave me a worried but dimpled grin and mouthed the words, “Sorry.” He appearance so beautiful that I was stopped dead in my tracks and just returned the smile, turning quickly around to face the backs of the semi-patient travelers in front of us. His face stayed in my head as I slowly found my way to my seat in the last row of the plane.
Generally, I hate being at the very back of an airplane on a long flight but, being a red-eye, I wound up having the row to myself and was able to stretch out. I had lost track of the hottie in my clamor to my seat, though I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a second. He must’ve settled in somewhere before I was able to turn and look for him.
As the hours crawled by, most people slept or tried to since there was no movie or meal service on this last flight of the night. Even the steward staff settled into their seats to converse quietly with little to do until some restless soul got the inkling to buzz them for a pillow or blanket.
In the dimly lit distance, I saw the buff looker rise from his seat some twenty rows in front of me. He walked, wobbly with the motion of the plane, towards the rear restrooms just behind my seat. Just as he was to about to pass me, he reached down and dropped a note into the empty aisle seat next to me and continued into the rear compartment.
I clicked on the overhead light and read the tight, small lettering on a ¼ page ripped from a rent-a-car ad in the in-flight magazine. “I apologize,” it read. “I hope I didn’t offend you. Please forgive me. Chad.”
I had no idea how to respond but I knew I must and quickly before he headed back to his seat. I scrawled the first thing that came to me mind, “Please don’t worry. I’m surprised and flattered. P.”
As soon as I signed my name, I heard the door unlatch behind me. For a brief moment, I almost tore up the note and decided to feign sleep, but I felt his presence before I saw him next to my row in the darkness. There were more empty seats on this flight than normal but the sound of people snoring or whispering to each other were all barely discernible through the persistent drone of the jet engines.
I’d never been hit on by a man before, much less an Adonis of either sex, never thought I was their type. Sure, I’d fantasized and had even come to embrace the fact that my sensitive side, emotional make-up and fascination with those big, stiff cocks in all of the straight porn I’d poured over through the years, were all signs that I, too, had both strong male and female sides to my sexual personality. I’d just never had it acted upon before now.
Chad looked down at me and smiled as I handed the note back to him. He stopped in the semi-darkness and I saw the glint of his teeth as he read my words leaning back into the light from the back of the cabin. I motioned to the empty seat on the aisle between us and he slid in beside me, reaching for the pen that I still held in my hand. He wrote on the small space left on the note, “Forgive me but I’m deaf so we’ll have to keep writing if you don’t mind.”
I laughed and tore another page from a magazine in the rack in front of us. “Stop apologizing. I’m a writer by profession so this works out just fine.” We continued like this for a while exchanging pleasantries and introductions.
Eventually, he wrote. “By now, you may have fathomed that I’m gay as well as deaf, how about you?”
“I like to describe myself as ‘open to suggestion’ and I can hear.” Chad smiled at my answer.
I continued to scribble, “In fact, I took an American Sign Language class twenty years ago, but the only thing I really remember is this...” I put a forefinger to my temple and then quickly moved the same fisted hand down hard into my other palm…the slang sign for “Stoned”.
He giggled and wrote, “What a coincidence, I was hard as a rock there in the aisle.” It was my turn to laugh.
Before I knew it, he looked me in the eyes and slid his hand slowly up my right leg. Finding it hard to breathe, I met his gaze, as his strong but delicate fingertips softly moved over my already throbbing cock. I reached up and clicked off the overhead reading lamp. Chad was so gentle, his touch barely lighting on the hard outline that stretched the fabric of my pants and I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. We both grinned like idiots.
Finding my zipper, he carefully slid it down, pulled my engorged wand out with a bit of effort even though I lifted my hips some to help. I lowered my tray table for more camouflage though it was very quiet and still inside the plane as we soared through the darkness across the country. I would think that this is probably quite illegal in most of the states we flew over.
To describe the excitement I felt is impossible. Knowing that at any moment someone might wake from uneasy sleep and need to head back in our direction was almost too much to bear. My heart raced in my chest as I reached my arm across my body, slipping my palm under his open-necked shirt to feel his heart pounding as I made my way to his stiff, right nipple. He leaned in and kissed me briefly, his lips soft, his breathing fast.
As I began to shiver from my toes on up, Chad glanced down the aisle, and turned his head to glance back quickly at the chatting stewards just ten feet behind us. He slowly stroked my hardness with his ultra soft hand for a good ten minutes while alternating between clandestine kisses and the glances up and down the dark aisle. My excitement rose to a fever pitch and I lifted my tray table. In a quick motion, Chad bent and took my entire cock deeply into his mouth as I gloriously shot everything I had down his throat.
In an instant he was sitting up, licking his lips and flashing that extraordinary smile. His hand still wrapped around me, he slipped my damp pole back into my pants.
For ten minutes we grabbed some quick kisses, glancing down the aisle and behind us, wondering if we’d been found out. Tasting my salty sweetness on his lips was one of the most erotic moments I’ve yet to experience.
At some point, from behind us we hear a bell ring, some commotion in the galley and soon the stewards got up and pushed a rolling cart down the aisle past us with cold water and hot coffee, their final act of service in the last hour before the plane began its descent.
Chad quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me out of our seats and into the empty bathroom. It was a tight squeeze as he pulled the door closed behind us. Without words or scrawled notes I knew what he and I had both yearned for since he first pressed his excitement against me in the aisle hours before.
He slipped my pants down past my ass and I heard buzzing sound of his fly coming down. I watched him in the mirror as my fast breathing fogged the glass before me. He reached for the liquid soap and filling his hand, I felt his wet, slippery palm slide up the crack of my ass, which rose to meet his fingers. Following his lead, I filled my hand with the slick, pink liquid and reached behind me. His cock with rock solid, thicker and longer than I had expected and so hot to the touch I thought it might set off the smoke detector above us.
He had somehow already slipped a wrapper over his manhood and no sooner than I had greased up his magnificent pride, he pulled my hand away and pushed his big, heart-shaped head to kiss my awaiting hole. Chad pushed slowly and I felt his fleshy bulb pop into me and as he pushed gently further, I felt as if I was going to pass out.
The pleasure was immeasurable. I watched him licked my right ear in the foggy reflection. His eyes were closed and I turned my head away from his hot mouth until he opened them. With a finger I wrote, “look at me” on the breath-misted mirror and I stared into the reflection of those shining, blue pools.
Slowly, he eased back and forth in me, my first real man after years of rubber cock, vibrators, my own searching fingers and those of the women I could coerce into a little butt play. I couldn’t believe the feeling of pleasure and connection, of naughty invasion and transcendent lust. I felt him reach around and found my tumescent rod, slipping his glistening fingers around it in a warm and massaging grip. Man love, baby.
He began to moan and I put my finger to my lips realizing he didn’t know just how loud he was getting. He laughed and slipped back into his ecstatic state, eyes half shut, breathing hard and fast.
Just as I was about to come into the stainless steel sink, I felt his thrusting stop and my ass filled even fuller as he flexed his hardness inside me and came in a tumultuous shudder. He held on tight, his arms under mine, holding tightly to my shoulders I took my hand to replace his on my pulsing member and in one or two, slow strokes I came all over the sink and mirror.
We leaned against each other silently for what seemed like forever. Pulling ourselves together, I wiped down the sink and he peeked out the door to see that the servers were still just half way down the aisle. There was a pretty woman in her late 20s standing outside the door as we came out, smiles on our faces, cheeks flushed. Her hair was sticking up on one side as if she’d just awakened from a dream. Maybe she’d not believe or recall what she thought she’s seen coming out of a steamy restroom at 30,000 feet. I wasn’t sure I’d believe it later myself.
Back at our seats, we laughed and whispered on paper and I wish I had those notes now. Filthy little notes of teasing and fantasy and comments on those snoozing around us. The only one I kept, I found in the pocket of my pants a day after I arrived at my final port of call. It said, “Until we meet again…”
Before we disembarked, I made the only other ASL sign I knew: ‘Thank you.”
At first, I thought nothing of it considering our sardined nature in this warm and stuffy tin can as we wait on the tarmac. But, in short order the male in me lit upon the fleeting idea that, “Even if that hand’s persistence is an accident, perhaps it will be a beautiful woman to fuel my fantasies for the next couple of hours.” The airport was full of them—females of all ages dressed in that comfy and casual but stylin’ for vacation look.
I tested the waters by moving a bit left, right, then forward and still felt the presence of the clingy touch moving with me.
“I hope it’s not that tiny, hunched-over octogenarian grandma who smiled at me at the ticket desk” my rational and slightly paranoid mind countered. Then, I realized that what I felt against me felt nothing like the back of a weak, wrinkled hand. I was being goosed by a hard-on, pressed firmly against the cheek of my ass. I could actually feel the heat from it permeating the fabric and beginning to warm my skin.
Finding myself taken by surprise, not just by this unusual occurrence, but also, by the rising sensation of my own growing curiosity, I slowly turned to meet the eyes of a stunningly gorgeous young man in his early 20s. His head was halo’d by a crown of sun-bleached blond curls, his eyes, robin’s egg blue.
I must’ve looked surprised for he gave me a worried but dimpled grin and mouthed the words, “Sorry.” He appearance so beautiful that I was stopped dead in my tracks and just returned the smile, turning quickly around to face the backs of the semi-patient travelers in front of us. His face stayed in my head as I slowly found my way to my seat in the last row of the plane.
Generally, I hate being at the very back of an airplane on a long flight but, being a red-eye, I wound up having the row to myself and was able to stretch out. I had lost track of the hottie in my clamor to my seat, though I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a second. He must’ve settled in somewhere before I was able to turn and look for him.
As the hours crawled by, most people slept or tried to since there was no movie or meal service on this last flight of the night. Even the steward staff settled into their seats to converse quietly with little to do until some restless soul got the inkling to buzz them for a pillow or blanket.
In the dimly lit distance, I saw the buff looker rise from his seat some twenty rows in front of me. He walked, wobbly with the motion of the plane, towards the rear restrooms just behind my seat. Just as he was to about to pass me, he reached down and dropped a note into the empty aisle seat next to me and continued into the rear compartment.
I clicked on the overhead light and read the tight, small lettering on a ¼ page ripped from a rent-a-car ad in the in-flight magazine. “I apologize,” it read. “I hope I didn’t offend you. Please forgive me. Chad.”
I had no idea how to respond but I knew I must and quickly before he headed back to his seat. I scrawled the first thing that came to me mind, “Please don’t worry. I’m surprised and flattered. P.”
As soon as I signed my name, I heard the door unlatch behind me. For a brief moment, I almost tore up the note and decided to feign sleep, but I felt his presence before I saw him next to my row in the darkness. There were more empty seats on this flight than normal but the sound of people snoring or whispering to each other were all barely discernible through the persistent drone of the jet engines.
I’d never been hit on by a man before, much less an Adonis of either sex, never thought I was their type. Sure, I’d fantasized and had even come to embrace the fact that my sensitive side, emotional make-up and fascination with those big, stiff cocks in all of the straight porn I’d poured over through the years, were all signs that I, too, had both strong male and female sides to my sexual personality. I’d just never had it acted upon before now.
Chad looked down at me and smiled as I handed the note back to him. He stopped in the semi-darkness and I saw the glint of his teeth as he read my words leaning back into the light from the back of the cabin. I motioned to the empty seat on the aisle between us and he slid in beside me, reaching for the pen that I still held in my hand. He wrote on the small space left on the note, “Forgive me but I’m deaf so we’ll have to keep writing if you don’t mind.”
I laughed and tore another page from a magazine in the rack in front of us. “Stop apologizing. I’m a writer by profession so this works out just fine.” We continued like this for a while exchanging pleasantries and introductions.
Eventually, he wrote. “By now, you may have fathomed that I’m gay as well as deaf, how about you?”
“I like to describe myself as ‘open to suggestion’ and I can hear.” Chad smiled at my answer.
I continued to scribble, “In fact, I took an American Sign Language class twenty years ago, but the only thing I really remember is this...” I put a forefinger to my temple and then quickly moved the same fisted hand down hard into my other palm…the slang sign for “Stoned”.
He giggled and wrote, “What a coincidence, I was hard as a rock there in the aisle.” It was my turn to laugh.
Before I knew it, he looked me in the eyes and slid his hand slowly up my right leg. Finding it hard to breathe, I met his gaze, as his strong but delicate fingertips softly moved over my already throbbing cock. I reached up and clicked off the overhead reading lamp. Chad was so gentle, his touch barely lighting on the hard outline that stretched the fabric of my pants and I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. We both grinned like idiots.
Finding my zipper, he carefully slid it down, pulled my engorged wand out with a bit of effort even though I lifted my hips some to help. I lowered my tray table for more camouflage though it was very quiet and still inside the plane as we soared through the darkness across the country. I would think that this is probably quite illegal in most of the states we flew over.
To describe the excitement I felt is impossible. Knowing that at any moment someone might wake from uneasy sleep and need to head back in our direction was almost too much to bear. My heart raced in my chest as I reached my arm across my body, slipping my palm under his open-necked shirt to feel his heart pounding as I made my way to his stiff, right nipple. He leaned in and kissed me briefly, his lips soft, his breathing fast.
As I began to shiver from my toes on up, Chad glanced down the aisle, and turned his head to glance back quickly at the chatting stewards just ten feet behind us. He slowly stroked my hardness with his ultra soft hand for a good ten minutes while alternating between clandestine kisses and the glances up and down the dark aisle. My excitement rose to a fever pitch and I lifted my tray table. In a quick motion, Chad bent and took my entire cock deeply into his mouth as I gloriously shot everything I had down his throat.
In an instant he was sitting up, licking his lips and flashing that extraordinary smile. His hand still wrapped around me, he slipped my damp pole back into my pants.
For ten minutes we grabbed some quick kisses, glancing down the aisle and behind us, wondering if we’d been found out. Tasting my salty sweetness on his lips was one of the most erotic moments I’ve yet to experience.
At some point, from behind us we hear a bell ring, some commotion in the galley and soon the stewards got up and pushed a rolling cart down the aisle past us with cold water and hot coffee, their final act of service in the last hour before the plane began its descent.
Chad quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me out of our seats and into the empty bathroom. It was a tight squeeze as he pulled the door closed behind us. Without words or scrawled notes I knew what he and I had both yearned for since he first pressed his excitement against me in the aisle hours before.
He slipped my pants down past my ass and I heard buzzing sound of his fly coming down. I watched him in the mirror as my fast breathing fogged the glass before me. He reached for the liquid soap and filling his hand, I felt his wet, slippery palm slide up the crack of my ass, which rose to meet his fingers. Following his lead, I filled my hand with the slick, pink liquid and reached behind me. His cock with rock solid, thicker and longer than I had expected and so hot to the touch I thought it might set off the smoke detector above us.
He had somehow already slipped a wrapper over his manhood and no sooner than I had greased up his magnificent pride, he pulled my hand away and pushed his big, heart-shaped head to kiss my awaiting hole. Chad pushed slowly and I felt his fleshy bulb pop into me and as he pushed gently further, I felt as if I was going to pass out.
The pleasure was immeasurable. I watched him licked my right ear in the foggy reflection. His eyes were closed and I turned my head away from his hot mouth until he opened them. With a finger I wrote, “look at me” on the breath-misted mirror and I stared into the reflection of those shining, blue pools.
Slowly, he eased back and forth in me, my first real man after years of rubber cock, vibrators, my own searching fingers and those of the women I could coerce into a little butt play. I couldn’t believe the feeling of pleasure and connection, of naughty invasion and transcendent lust. I felt him reach around and found my tumescent rod, slipping his glistening fingers around it in a warm and massaging grip. Man love, baby.
He began to moan and I put my finger to my lips realizing he didn’t know just how loud he was getting. He laughed and slipped back into his ecstatic state, eyes half shut, breathing hard and fast.
Just as I was about to come into the stainless steel sink, I felt his thrusting stop and my ass filled even fuller as he flexed his hardness inside me and came in a tumultuous shudder. He held on tight, his arms under mine, holding tightly to my shoulders I took my hand to replace his on my pulsing member and in one or two, slow strokes I came all over the sink and mirror.
We leaned against each other silently for what seemed like forever. Pulling ourselves together, I wiped down the sink and he peeked out the door to see that the servers were still just half way down the aisle. There was a pretty woman in her late 20s standing outside the door as we came out, smiles on our faces, cheeks flushed. Her hair was sticking up on one side as if she’d just awakened from a dream. Maybe she’d not believe or recall what she thought she’s seen coming out of a steamy restroom at 30,000 feet. I wasn’t sure I’d believe it later myself.
Back at our seats, we laughed and whispered on paper and I wish I had those notes now. Filthy little notes of teasing and fantasy and comments on those snoozing around us. The only one I kept, I found in the pocket of my pants a day after I arrived at my final port of call. It said, “Until we meet again…”
Before we disembarked, I made the only other ASL sign I knew: ‘Thank you.”
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