A 101 on Masculine Pleasure

So I tried to confirm what I sensed. At last, I gently moved downwards and let my lips and tongue slide around in a soft drinking kiss on and along his luxurious foreskin.

I was taken back to that one burger joint in my neighbourhood for some reason, the one with the really great smoked burgers and the special sauces and the good fries. Why was I thinking about this? I lapped and swallowed as gently as I could.

I wasn't tasting candy. I assumed it was all and always candy. What I was tasting was hickory, it was salty sweet, it was a smoky kind of honey.

Of course this Mr. Man Dude had hickory precum.

And holy shit yes please and more thanks.

And I made wet contact with the middle of the bottom of Dave's ballsack, giving the spot a tonguey slippery little French kiss, nuzzling my face back and forth a little but keeping my pressure teeny.

He had gasped again. I doubt he had ever let himself become this excited without doing something about it, much less let stimulation happen this gradually.

I reminded myself again and again to be soft for him, be slow with this perfect penis. It was my promise to him, even if he didn't yet know to need it this way.

I took a break from my entree to lap up some dripping salt. His testicles tasted like lumber smells. I explored with my excessive drool all along his wonderful package, and I had to chase it a little, because it was changing shape in a heartbeat pulse - no, a flex! He was flexing his pleasure, and the balls flopped from beside his penis on either side to above in tight formation, again and again. He was liking me.

I tried to keep the coating of precum on my tongue as I said, lowering down,

"Being wet with it makes everything better. Everything."

"You know why this has never happened to you before?" I kissed his shaft every few words. "You think of sex, you get an erection, you grab your beautiful penis, you squeeze it, and you shake it until you cum. Let me guess. You think cumming is supposed to hurt a bit?"

I must have come across as some sort of tantric expert. I was just universalising my own experience, taking a wild guess that how I liked it was how it was supposed to be. Hoping I wasn't completely wrong.

Dave was my theory tester.

I watched him as I kept going, as best I could. He looked like he was staring into his soul, especially every time I licked a part that hadn't been licked yet. Every first taste electrified that square inch.

I licked his shaft up and down again, getting used to the new penis. I had only ever had one in my mouth. I had become very skilled at making that one penis feel nice, but I had no idea what was universal and what was different every time.

My exploratory licks had pumped something to the top. A large, round drop of thick liquid peeked over the edge and began a gooey stream down. Dave must have felt it hanging, he looked down.

I faced it and let it enter my lips. I didn't taste it, I saved it for Dave: with my tongue buttery again, I nuzzled into his ballsack, higher this time but exploring the whole double-dome freely. His whole sack was shining now with slippery goo.

"Oh god, I need to cum. I need this," he said, probably not in the tone of voice he was expecting of himself.

"I know," I said. "Me too." I took a gentle hold of his slip-and-slide shaft.

"And I want you to take over and let me be your sub soon. First, if it's hard to wait, let's put it this way." I gave his right testicle another wet little kiss. "Some time in the next little while, you're going to cum inside my mouth. That's absolutely going to happen. And you can stay in my mouth as long as you like after you cum, I know how important that first ten seconds afterwards is. And I'm going to meet you to give you blowjobs again, and again, and again, as long as this is still fun for us. Now..." I tasted his shaft in two little places. "Knowing that, and knowing that you have a young man happy to come to your office and just blow you sometimes... Are you really going to rush through it? Do you want this to be over as soon as possible?"

While holding the shaft, I lifted the skin up a little more so I could reach and kiss further down each of his testicles. "What is it about sex that makes people want to finish it ASAP? What is it about having what you want more than anything else that makes you want to hurry it?" I gave his tip a tiny little French kiss. He was starting to feel something alright.

"If I'm wrong, and you don't get anything out of being patient, and it's just the same but it takes longer, is it still worth it to you? What's your choice, between me putting on my clothes and saying goodbye and me agreeing to come back again and again and give you frustratingly slow blowjobs?"

He looked at me for a long moment, and smirked, and said, "Okay, cheeky, you can stay. You really like this thing hm?"

I gleamed and said, "I adore it" and made out with the penis for a nice long moment.

"One more question Dave." Before I asked I gave his whole cockhead a lavish, soft little suck and drink before looking at him again. Holy shit that was tasty, by the way... the combination of cock and precum is just the best. "Will you in return slowly, softly, selflessly blow the horny young man who loves your cock? Will you gift his pretty penis the same kind of love?"

When I think of gay sex I think of blowjobs, and sometimes anal fucking. When I think of foreplay, I think of gently touching a penis and balls until it desperately needs more of the same, faster and harder.

Dave may not have been versed in preparing a body, but as he watched me take off my clothes for him, closing in to be close the whole time, there was something happening which was more than an incoming blowjob.

As I took off my shirt, one step closer to naked, the man in the tie made a satisfied kind of sound, and before I was fully free of the sleeves he touched my biceps, my pits, my chest, my stomach. He slowly slid his hands around them, and that felt like something. Still a little unable and a little unwilling to lower my arms, I arched my tummy towards the man's tie as he appreciatively explored my torso. He kept on going, and my erection ached with it.

Other than my penis, no one had ever sought out my body as a desire before. I don't think he was giving me foreplay, the man in the suit was taking pleasure from touching my skin. And while it had been with a little disheartening that I had begun to almost mentor him, I was, maybe for the first time in my life, extracting bliss from a moment of someone's enjoyment. And I mean bliss. I moved to the desk so I could lean back on it as he kept going. When I arched my neck I felt a mouth, and it was tasting my chest, and with a bit of eagerness it sought my left nipple, and stayed there. I didn't know that would feel good. With a satisfied little groan onto my other nipple his hand enjoyed the outline of my testicles against my track pants.

As a team we dropped away the clothes below my waist. He softly massaged my balls while tasting the original nipple again. As I heaved my pelvis needily towards his hand, his other hand started feeling the cheeks of my bum. As his mouth enjoyed my tummy he felt up and down the line of my crack, memorising the contours. As the man in the tie synched with my ass' little dance of enjoyment around his palm and fingers, he started lapping up whatever tastes existed between my balls and my thighs, clearly either enjoying the taste, enjoying the experience, or enjoying the sheer honour that this is where his tongue got to be.

My open palm appreciatively gave the back of his head permission and request and immediately he was giving my entire head and shaft a warm, drenched, vibrating home. He stretched the angle of his penetration laterally, and tried to watch me. I could understand why. Again, on his desk, was a blushing naked young man, knees in the air, giving needly little thankful moans for being nice to his pretty cock.

I desperately appreciated the situation too. I could see the moment my taste changed for him, and saw him lick his lips as he kept going. I could feel the moment, since subsequent bobs down onto me suddenly felt twice as nice.

As my moans changed again, into needy little quick sighs, he knew enough to halt the blowjob, and I was both quite disappointed and quite joyous. My orgasm denied, his penis presented fagain or my enjoyment.

He watched me as he again reached for his glimmering new belt. He watched me pulse my blushing face forward, in heaving little breaths and instincts to hump. He watched my grateful and bashful face as he slipped his underwear down and waited for what the guy in his office would do about the return of his cock. I continued to beam my grateful face at him as I slipped onto the ground. I could still make eye-contact by starting at the bottom, and I slid my drooling mouth all over his freshly salted balls. His sweat pores must have opened from the vigour and enjoyment of having me in his mouth.

One last time I shot him a look of thanks as I ventured from balls to head and sought my favourite tastes and my favourite sounds.

He didn't have my beloved sensitivity in his shaft anymore, so my favourite tricks wouldn't work. So I gave him a bit of what he had always craved. I opened wide and pumped downwards and upwards onto him. I even took the base of his shaft in my left hand and softly twisted back and forth, not quite in synch with my gently twisting head.

Without really resolving who was being rewarded, I had at least resolved that we had both earned an orgasm from Dave's penis into my mouth. A nice, strong bobbing blow to release all his tension was just what I needed. He had awakened in me the fervour to be strong for him, and I gave up my patience. Making me desperate to cum was just what his cock needed. I took all my hunger, my teenage horniness, my kinky enjoyment of the scenario, all my patient waiting for release, and my enjoyment of this particular cock, and gave it all to this deserving erection, not relenting a bit as he escalated and shuddered and passed milestones and finally entered a rapid-fire heave of breaths that always always meant I had less than five seconds before he filled me up.

I imperfectly drank his orgasm, not timing my gulps quite right, but he seemed to enjoy how my flawed swallowing looked.

There were seconds before his spent orgasm made him less horny. During those precious moments, he brought my pelvis to his face, meeting halfway, and my point-of-no-return happened no more than 10 seconds after I was back in that lovely adventurous mouth. I smiled joyously with a cheeky little smirk through all of my panting little groans. I came, and came, and came, and came into that manager's mouth, and he took it perfectly. I had nothing left to give by the time I was released.

We spoke for a moment after that. He described a lingering worry that he was somehow less masculine now -- now that he learned how to have funner sex...

I remember asking him what about feeling great is not masculine. I reminded him that he's worried that letting himself have the best-feeling sex of his life from a sub cock-worshipper makes him less of a man.

The man in the tie smiled at that. He agreed that that was just stupid.

I'm summarising here because what I remember most of all is that we noticed that we were somehow both erect again. For reasons we both understood very well, we each took our own penises in our hands, and experimentally pumped. The stimulation didn't hurt me. The way he grinned at me told me it didn't hurt him either. We weren't too sensitive.

We breathed in panting excitement as we switched our hands. We both noticed at the same time that our heads tried to go down on each other at the same time. We looked at each other and wordlessly searched each other for who wanted to receive more urgently than the other. The answer was not obvious from the look. In fact, what was obvious was that we wouldn't agree.

The same instant the answer was obvious, we glanced at the desk, which was too small, and, never letting go of each other's shafts, just sort of collapsed onto the floor, clean except for lingering Gyprock.

The smell of drywall dust is unmistakable, and years and years later I still smell that stage of construction and remember my mouth eagerly challenging itself to open wider for a middle-aged cock, and feeling an impatient mouth bobbing on my shaft, groaning and face-fucking it more vigorously than ever before.

Having already teased my desire into need, and having already cum, powerful hands and mouth pumping my shaft and squeezing at my ballsack was just the bliss I suddenly needed from my mature secret lover.

Like animals we groaned. We sounded like we were roaring, and the vibrations of his mouth roaring onto my cock, were beyond what I can describe. When I felt his moan I suddenly believed this wasn't just aftershock but I absolutely had more cum to gift him.

I don't remember who came again first. I remember that, one by one, we treated each other's orgasms as victories - not as a race, we were obviously just both proud to achieve them, to gift them. I was so proud that I facefucked out of that perfect cockshaft a new and wholesome full orgasm of semen. Like he had been waiting for days. I was so grateful to give him whatever he had collaboratively brewed up with my balls. I moaned an entire second orgasm onto his exhausted softening penis, gently frenching Dave's soft slippery tip as I came down from the climax.

This was now A Thing. This was going to be happening a lot.

Of course, the next time...

"Bad news, my young friend. I've just been told Big Boss needs to Zoom me in 10 minutes. I have to. You wanna wait until after, or...?"

I smiled a bit.

"I have to go soon too."

"Shit. Um. I've been waiting too damn long for this, with your silly little No Nut For Days rule, but I don't think we have enough time."

"Well that's exciting!" I found and pulled down his fly, he still in his seat. "You have 9 minutes or you'll lose today's blowjob. Sounds like fun..." Sure, Dave made guffaws and stutters, but nothing close to protest. He never retorted at the increasingly risque plan. And in no time, the man in the office chair had pants and underwear around his ankles, and a dome of shaggy hair in front of his tummy.

I didn't waste time with my mouth, but what I began was definitely not quite what he hurriedly hoped either. I channeled my summercamp nights again, and as he pointed his penis far at me, I soundlessly, slowly gave him my Soft Stealth Special.

With 8 minutes before his virtual meeting, I quickly drenched the man in the tie's new erection in hungry drool, with a bobbing mouth so soft, the lips and tongue tickled instead of sealed. The poor man's pent up horniness was being treated with very, very preliminary foreplay, on an urgent countdown.

I was cheeky. Each time he whispered to suck harder, my mouth became softer and lovelier. The touches were my best, catatonically pleasurable licks in all the right places, and after he stopped requesting, my bobs at one point did become pleasantly fast, though still vanishingly gentle.

His sighs and whimpers weren't lukewarm. I was giving him the tapas of blowjobs. The sampler plate of blowjobs. The big question being whether a thousand soft lovely touches could equal an entire summoning of semen, and in a big hurry.

His audible pleasure seemed to think so, but it sounded so frantic. He was obviously feeling too good to protest that anything should stop, but I'm sure I was a very frustrating and confusing presence between his trembling knees.

As I savoured my earned tastes for a moment, I glanced at his wristwatch as he panted and humped nothing. He was whispering references to various deities now.

"One minute, Dave. You have to be decent in one minute, and you want to finish this blowjob before then. Isn't life great?"

My mouth wasn't any faster or snugger after that, but Dave's desperately urgent sounds changed anyways, and as the seconds went on I refused to speed up as his desperation escalated. Then, there was a moment of utter silence, and his penis remained mysterious about how it felt as my mouth continued its constant pace of movement. And then, of course, he erupted more cum in me than I had ever experienced.

I enjoyed the shiftings tastes and smells, celebrating them with vibrating happy sighs. I gratefully kissed Dave's orgasm out of the tip within his opened foreskin. Even with precious few seconds remaining, his second, third, and fourth burst of semen was gently coaxed out with grazing lips and grazing tongue.

I dutifully drank and drank and drank. I knew how high Dave's stakes were, and they mattered to me. I needed this to continue after all, and I needed him to believe in our sex and its rewards.

There was no time to drink the aftershock too, I pulled up his fallen pants immediately and he buttoned the outermost button.

I returned long after that fourth outburst into a final substantial suck, gently inviting any lingering semen out of the shaft and past my tongue, and giving him a reassuringly snug home for his penis to land after all his patience and worry.

I freed it then. Dave was zipping his fly up as the Zoom ring began. He politely scooched me away from between his legs, heaved one long breath, pressed the button, fixed his tie, and gave me one goodbye wink.

The wink wasn't returned.

I would have stopped if he had motioned me to go away. But as a very boring voice began its onslaught of dreary platitudes, I paused, and then tried something.

I approached the desk behind Dave's screen. And I quietly watched the man in the tie as I quietly pumped my erection for him. As he watched his boss with flushed cheeks, I lavished my testicles gently with one hand, corkscrew-pumped my shaft with the other two hands, and let my body curve and dance in pleasure, in complete silence.

As I watched him and I felt myself brewing, I approached closer. Never stopping my soft onslaught on myself, I soundlessly placed a knee on the desk, an opposing hand, and the other knee. I scooched closer. He looked nervous but not angry.

Right behind the laptop, a young man slowly masturbated for an older man in an crisp button-up shirt.

I had never seen my old friend and I have one of our silent orgasms, they were always in the pitch-black night. And so, I can't even fathom what Dave saw in his periphery, whatever he could gather while still pretending to attend to the dreary voice, as I began a vulnerable thrashing little dance for the office manager.

And then came the moment and I had just enough presence of mind to place my open palm in front of me. I stilled myself just enough to catch a robust flick of semen and then another. I softly pumped out a third.

I watched Dave, who had apparently earned the fleeting opportunity to look to his right. I took the chance as swiftly as I could, while I still had him watching me, I raised and tipped my palm, and licked my wrist to catch the semen as I gathered and consumed my pleasure, letting Dave see how much I enjoyed lapping my own fluids up and clean my hand as best I could. For the first time, I learned what our combined tastes were. I marveled at the differences, him more starkly salty, and thicker, me more slippery and a bit sweet.

He watched me, stunned, before forcing his eyes back to the call. I'm sure he noticed me gather and lap up my aftershock.

I grinned, pumped some hand sanitizer, and very stealthily put on all my clothes, still quite close to the screen. My underwear was still a challenge to fit my spent penis into. I left wordlessly, soundlessly closing the glass door and trapping the scents of semen and sweat for the man who I suspected would ask me to visit again.