A 101 on Masculine Pleasure

I knew exactly what adamant vigour he'd meet me with the next time he flagged the all-clear and invited me over and inside.

He flagged the all-clear again very, very soon.

Things felt different the next time I met Dave in his office.

First of all, the office was finished. It felt riskier being there, because it looked like an entire team could show up for work at any moment. I was unlocked from the street remotely, I punched in a secret code at the elevator I definitely wasn't supposed to have, and I stepped out into an open space with glass walls creating individual offices. I walked into Dave's glass-house of an office, and he uselessly closed the glass door, still visible and audible to the entire space.

More felt different. Because Dave smiled and wordlessly took off my clothes for me, and then gently positioned me onto his desk, and then to lie down across it. His perfect crisp new white-collar shirt and grey tie were unblemished the entire time as he brought open my legs and gently began to enjoy the taste of my testicles.

That morning I was now unambiguously the passive but willing recipient of what I had craved so vehemently since the day I drank my own cum: I was being taken, being touched, and being enjoyed by a man who knew how to take care of the situation.

I looked down at him, when my arching neck allowed me to stop thrashing with the sudden thrill of the first licks. Dave clearly had what he badly wanted to: a young, proud, pretty cock was presented widely open to him and its owner gasped thankfully as it was licked. He licked, and licked, and licked, and licked every corner of my testicles, until they were shiny, until they tightened with excitement, until they loosened again with his gentle soaked massage.

Dave was in charge again. And I didn't mind one bit, because there was nothing I wanted different than what he was doing. What he was taking from me was exactly what I wanted to give him. And more than that there was nothing I wanted more than for a man to decide how our pleasure would happen. This man hadn't just become a manager in this office. He had become a hungry, patient, commanding, adoring fan of my young cock.

I was lying down across that desk for a long time, feet and ankles hanging off the right-hand side. For a long while, Dave made sure he tasted and stimulated each part of the area, one by one, lapping up my balls and then exciting them into numbness, slicking up my shaft and slipping his lips up and down with quick but unpressured zigzags, gathering recent emanations from the ring of my foreskin, and finally drawing out the slick he had earned, lapping at my tip with his tongue and drinking what I'm sure was a wonderful buttery treat.

With my whole self slicked up and lavished, Dave took my upper back and brought me up to sitting, right where his keyboard was supposed to be, and he sat professionally in his chair, positioned me helpfully, and then softly brought me into and out of and into and out of his mouth. I watched the incurious passersby below on the sidewalk as the man in the new tie took long grateful dives onto my erection. I smiled at the crowd of bored public as my penis slowly fed the man in the suit grateful outpourings of buttery liquid.

I watched his patient but bold mouth bobbing, slow but powerfully, taking my shaft in its entirety, buzzing me with the occasional happy groan.

It was a long while before he paused. By the time he did, rubbing his jaw and heaving a little, he smiled a fun grin. I, meanwhile, was giving him the deadly glare of 91%-there, the desperate, grateful, adamant, impatient heaving of a body that needed the next minute to happen and soon.

While keeping his smile Dave softly continued his licks, still exploratory and soft, with slow movements of his face and tongue that were completely divorced from my increasingly thunderous reactions.

I actually felt the first movement of semen, I felt the first surge as my testicles sprung to life. I heaved at the movement, staring at ceiling, and then felt nothing but aftershock. I hadn't cum and my desperation was upgraded, still happy but so needy now.

I finally found the presence of mind to look down between my legs again, and saw his erection instead of his head. He had stood up. He had left me at 99%, earned purely through gentle teases, and was now presenting to me.

I looked Dave up and down, and something in me decided my consolation prize.

I licked my lips. I didn't wait any further for whatever came next and instead I shot off of the desktop into a needy little kneel in front of him, close enough to him that his pretty cock softly brushed up my torso until I came down to meet it head on.

My need to cum had been transitioned into a need to make him cum. And I think he'd learned enough to have planned that perfectly.

Dave's head shone wet at me, dribbling with past moments of enjoyment. I shot his face a gaze of sheer joy, and began frenching the erection in front of me.

Rapidly and adamantly, from between the bottom corners of his crisp white shirt, I enveloped his shaft deeply across my cheeks and tongue. I didn't ration the tastes he had been preparing for me, instead pumping them out as he gasped and wheezed. He was unable to help himself from humping my face a little, and I trusted the cock to hump me safely and I trusted my body to know how to receive him as deep as he needed to go.

I did my best to keep my lips closed around the shaft as I brought his adventurously deep penis all the way back out, keeping his sensation constant. Each time I did this right I was rewarded with a whole shaft's worth of butter.

Dave breathed for a moment as I let myself just stare at the cock I adored.

"I thought you... liked being slow and gentle."

I heaved my words out too. "That's only.... because we don't let ourselves... get really aroused before we begin. And because I don't want sex to be a hurry. But you're already delicious, and you've been waiting so long you're.... bigger than big... and I've needed this so long I... already had the foreplay just thinking about this."

I took his penis in my hands and memorised the bumps and curves of him. "I don't need to be amy more aroused than this. I'm not capable of being more aroused than this... I just need this c--"

I dove lavishly onto him and cherished him with some long fast bobs. I came out and then decided not to talk yet and came down all the way onto him again. And that was the next long moment, all the way up and off, all the way into and down, as far as I could engulf the man in the suit, again and again.

"Dave?" I eventually whispered from between his thighs. "Dave can I have your cum yet? I really need to swallow you now."

He watched me twitch my face forward in synch with my little breaths, like my head was getting ready to hump him again, and after three little breaths I took his stare as the Yes it was and plunged down onto him and, giving up my greed to swallow more tastes, finally used his lube for its real purpose: my mouth soaked his shaft in something far slipperier than what my saliva could provide. I let the precum stay now, drenching him in his own warm slick.

I gave his shaft as warm and snug a home as I could, and with whatever presence of mind I was still capable of I paid careful attention to his shifting penis, as its movements and transformations told me its next need. I did every fucking thing his penis asked me to do. Every hump downward, every twist, every re-soak, and all that in what couldn't have been more than seconds.

And when the penis signalled to me its Point of No Return, I refused to relent.

I had finally been giving my secret sex affair the blowjob he'd always tried to have, fast and furious and unrelenting. But done right, it was perfect to me. And I don't think it would have been the same if we hadn't let ourselves become desperate for each other. And I was desperate.

And that's how I received my first squirt. It was the most intense I'd ever seen a penis make.

All at once, every type of pleasure happening in one moment, his shaft filled and plugged up my cheeks. His hands caressing my head at the moment of thrashing flex kept me still for him. His testicles released and sent a torrent of stream right against my throat, sliding rapidly downward with its slippery texture.

And as his body forced him to stay deep for his second torrent (I guess in some biological drive to uselessly try to impregnate my mouth), the pressure and fullness forced the liquid to rush out of his tip and back down his shaft and out of my mouth. He replaced the semen my mouth had lost with more, and I was full of him once again.

When, long afterwards, he was able to relax his muscles and decouple mouth from cock, he watched me linger, and then finally slide off of his flushed, erect-but-soft shaft. A large collection of cum stretched between us, and I was unsure whether it would decouple from his testicles or my cheek. The warm liquid flicked all the way onto my cheek as his balls released it to me.

Dave took me by the biceps and stood me up. I watched him, daunted, anxious but glad, unsure of what was coming. He leaned me against his desk-front. His finger nuzzled his cum off of my cheek as he crouched. I couldn't keep my gaze on him or on anything as I began to feel things. I felt warmth and wetness envelop my shaft, and I felt extremely slippery warm fingers analyse my balls as their roundness slowly transformed in more excitement. I felt the warmth on my crack, as he slicked me up there. And that's when he paused.

"You want foreplay? I'll give you foreplay. Come here."

Dave just walked, still underwear-free, to a door I hadn't gone through yet. I followed, naked and shivering with hunger. It was an internal elevator. We were in it for just a few seconds, and I felt it take us just a little upwards, while his hands felt my nipple and my ass-cheek.

We walked out into a large room with just a big desk and a separate little table and chairs.

Dave led me forward gently, and just said, "Whenever I get called up here, I want to remember, every time, exactly what I did in this room." With a smirk, he benevolently led me near the desk. While I still faced the far nicer desk, the man in the tie came up against me from behind, his erection somehow in the process of returning.

The man made good use of his hands, and while he played softly with my left nipple, he played more firmly with my whole shaft. The intensity of everything at once began my first grind. For the first time ever, without deciding how to move, my ass caught the freshly steeled cock between my cheeks and played with it, sometimes with complex twisting little up-and-downs, and sometimes with the chaotic shaking of fevered pleasure.

Unlike facing an ocean and jacking off in its direction, this time I faced three glass exterior walls, being jacked off in the direction of passersby just on the threshold of whether a keen eye could see whether there was nudity and orgasm in the room.

I was utterly unable to consciously evaluate to what extent I preferred this to be how I cum. I knew only the pleasure of being tickled and jacked off and humped by a suited man. I was also unable to evaluate how disappointed or happy I was when, after a long moment of this, he let go of me, his hands and his cock disengaged from my erogenous zones, and turned me around to gently lay me on the polished desk, bottom facing the elevator.

When the approached me again, still standing, he reached to lick my nipple, lifted my leg to lick my thigh, lifted my shaft to lick my head, and then stood again.

As I watched, a little nervously, and my knees instinctively arched up for him and to him, the man in the tie took his nice new erection by his hand, and started rubbing it around my balls, and then lower.

On my crack was a lot of feverish sweat, the cum he had placed there long moments beforehand, and what I realised was new fluids he had humped onto me. I had been stimulating him back, far more than I thought, the whole time. Now, he placed his head on my crack, and I was getting more nervous (though not exactly unwilling), but he stayed gentle for me. With the help of his hand, and in some adamant seconds without any help at all, the head of that perfect penis slipped up and down my slippery crack.

I watched the man in the tie use my ass to help him jack off, and I watched his proud face become vulernable in perfect little moments, and I noticed how nice it was making me feel.

Far, far earlier than expected for a second go at it, his moans became higher and faster, and all of a sudden his warm flesh was painting my ass up and down with gobs of hot fluid. I bumped my head back onto the desktop and let myself just feel it all.

I felt more happening and let it happen, clearly not behind the proverbial wheel. My knees were lifted a little higher.

And another moment later my ass felt the softest most sensitive thing my body had ever experienced.

It was many, many seconds before I was even capable of glancing down, and watching, far below my forgotten and hungry erection, a man lapping his tongue, again and again and again and again, everywhere between the very bottom of my balls and my asshole itself. By now he must have lapped up every bit of his own cum, and was now simply tasting my sweat.

Other than the fact that I was delerious with pleasure, I could understand this appeal. His forbidden office guest on his boss' desk was now presenting ass to his tongue.

I simply writhed, unable to need specific things, just moving to open for him further however I could. My ass even felt a tiny bit abandoned when he suddenly switched to long bobs of blowjob again.

I think I may have lasted for a while. It was like I was feeling too pleasurably to orgasm, it was just so much, it was like the whole blowjob, once allowed to continue, was one unceasing orgasm.

What Dave was actually giving me wasn't gentle and soft anymore, and it wasn't a pounding of vigour either. It was just a needy happy grateful blow up and down and along my shaft. Not a single trick could have made me feel any better anyway, I just needed his warmth, his pressure, our soaked liquids, and the recoil of my balls back and forth, slapping my thighs and his face gently.

So, what cumming into the man in the suit's mouth felt like was a dizziness and a moment of heat and a sudden increase in sensitivity. There was nothing better to crescendo into. So what I did for myself was grasp his head gently and let myself have a few last indulgent humps into his cheeks, and then just stayed there.

He knew to stay open for me, wet for me, snug for me, slipping around gently with what must have been his tongue, until my penis softened and shrunk and gravity slipped my shaft out of him at its own pace.

And then his mouth picked my shaft up once more, knowing to take one final taste of aftershock.

We smiled at each other, and I heaved at Dave,

"Delicious, isn't it?"

"The office opens Monday. Looks like this may be the end."

We looked at each other for a moment.

"So the real question is............................... are we motivated at all to find a way to keep having blowjobs?"

Dave looked down at the middle of me again, at the young body with the flushed harassed penis, the foreskin clinging onto a new escaping emergence of cum, with a heaving torso and legs and chest arched in unabashed and horny presentation toward him. Dave looked at the horny young cum drinker with the hopeful eyes.

He was probably joking when he said, "Heh, well, how quiet can you be at night with people in the next room?"

I gleamed. And stood up. Our tired shafts nestled against each other as I asked him, "I think you'd be surprised how quiet you can be while receiving the best sex of your life." I humped our shafts softly along each other. "The trick is to dance in the dark. That's how to make your cum a secret."

He looked at me, surprised that I had an answer for everything. His look became doubtful and worried. But then it became a little intrigued. And then a tiny bit hopeful.

I almost ended this story there. But I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that Dave and I couldn't bear to wait even a week before the need for each other's tastes made extreme risk sound unimpressive.

We had just presence of mind enough to plan perfectly.

I was masterful. I expertly tiptoed in sneakers across pebbles and dewy grass. I gracefully but needlessly made it look casual. I immediately found the window that was described to me, and the pipe that looked too flimsy but easily supported weight. I quickly found a sihlouette there just in time to abort if the silhouette seemed in any way unwelcoming. I soundlessly brought my leg and then my whole body into the window of the strange house. I felt the coldness of the wood floor. I saw the curtain close behind me and reoriented to now seeing not a thing inside the blackness of the room. I stretched a pace over the squeak I had been briefed on, to a fluffy rug over a carpet.

I felt warmth in front of me. When I felt hands seeking me there was a single unsafely audible sigh of joy as it felt naked skin somehow already bared to the invisible room.

I found more difficulty than ever at summer camp at keeping my pleasure silent. My bum felt arms holding me steady as a mouth softly and patiently invoked my orgasm from me like a spell cast. It was a steady escalation, but with a wide open mouth and drool dribbling all over us, catching liquid each time my penis changed its taste. I remember three of those changes of taste: two emergences of my arousal and a needy and pent-up eruption of neglected need.

Spent but not a bit less horny, in the pitch black, I trusted my senses to find the penis in front of my face. Once my cheeks found and nuzzled the length of him, my lips brushed back and forth and gathered his precum up like lipstick. Only then did my kiss get bigger, when it was slippery enough to challenge his stealthy silence even further.

For whatever reason, this night, I wasted large amounts of his erupting cum, letting him shoot not inside me but onto and into me, equally grateful for what landed in my mouth and for what landed across my mouth.

We would go on to have relationships after that, but for long, long after Dave's office was completed, we would regularly meet, sometimes on weekends and sometimes on the worst Mondays, sometimes shower to prepare for each other, and, sometimes when we hadn't met in a while, refrain from showering, gratefully seeking each other's scents and tastes. We were not interested in dating, or even kissing. We simply adored each other's cocks, absolutely cherished them, and gratefully received each other's affectionate sex and every compliment our mouths gave our bodies.

In the meantime, I had reached a point in our little affair, or whatever it was. There, in the dark, in secret from a nearby separated wife and who knew who else, completely emptied of cum and spent of my ability to become hard again, I readily facefucked with needy fervour,

happy for the privilege of kneeling on a strange man's fluffy rug,

playing with his overwhelming penis in the dark,

and having secret sex with him.

Whenever the hell he wanted me.