About a Minute or an Hour

When I became a little tired, I began wet little kisses down at the bottom, slicking up his balls one by one. He loved this, and made surprised heaving gasps as my tongue tickled the very bottom of the balls. And he loved the moment when I slipped his penis far back into my mouth, incorporating my hand into an independent set of movements. He sighed deeply and held onto my cock with an absent touch, probably for his own excitement.

"Dude this is awesome, but I don't know if I'm going to cum.. I think I'm nervous or something. I'm going to try but I don't know if I can." I smiled: I knew the incantation to dispel that curse.

"Juan, there are two possibilities: either I'm going to spend another hour between your legs, tasting and playing with a beautiful and surprisingly tasty cock, or in a minute I'm going to happily drink your cum. Either way I am having the time of my life." There, kneeling before him, I gently held and very slowly lifted the skin of Juan's shaft up and down in this moment, keeping the atmosphere sexually charged and just urgent enough. "Let go Juan. Let go of the need to cum and we'll both just enjoy ourselves. Are you ready?"

Juan, put on the spot and red-hot bashful in the face, nodded shy but eager consent. And me, his new companion swiveled his body nearly 180 to look down at the penis from between the legs, the most intimate position for both of us. Very gently cupping and lifting the testicles, I soaked my mouth and started making eager but very gentle thrusts far down and far up, in and out, full and empty. The triplet-cylinder shape of Juan's penis grew larger still in overwhelming arousal. Juan's noises changed, now soft thankful whimpers as he abandoned the idea of finish lines and just enjoyed it. For a time Juan was just aware of his body and what parts needed and received touch, and then eventually coming back to reality to remember where he was and what was happening -- and for some reason that made the sensation's not strange but better:

I remembered my past again and the thoughts that went through my mind that first time, and every time I torsioned to see Juan's face instead of his penis, I saw the obvious thought process and enjoyed it thoroughly: "A man is sucking my cock and he really likes it. He looks so sexy doing that. A man is giving me a blowjob and his hands are touching my thighs and I'm opening my legs to him and he can see everything -- my cock is in a man's mouth. Oh God I feel his tongue on my tip. Something's happening. No I don't care, I'm just going to love this, I don't care whether I cum, my cock feels nice and I want to watch him touch it, I want to feel this way some more. Pleaseyes. Please yes. Please. Yes. Ohshithistongue. Ohshit." I mean I guessed that's what he was feeling, I could have been projecting, but this man, secretive and conspiratorial as he had been that day, was now for the moment an open book.

As a new emergence of precum blossomed out, I began swooning, enjoying the taste. The swoons vibrated the penis in his mouth, and I knew how that felt. My whole mouth vibrated with each sound, and Juan whispered random little words of encouragement and request.

I released the balls, instead watching the gorgeous organ move on its own, growing, pumping, shuddering. The inside of my mouth was now buttery and slick, the precum warmer wetter and slipperier than lube, the saliva and the precum together making every slippery touch gentle and fleeting. No goals -- just touch and thanks, touch and thanks, back and forth between the two hungry feverish men.

Hardly able to cognate choices, Juan absent-mindedly searched my body, finding and searching my thighs until he found fuzz, and then intense warmth, and very gently fondling it. Juan, apparently now needing to imminently continue his crash course in sucking, brought his head around to reach me. Unable to concentrate on a true blowjob, Juan licked and slathered needily, feverishly, but without hurry, just adding to his excitement by playing with a real cock.

Juan had come into that room a young man with a broken but common idea of what it is for a man to fuck, but now the understanding between them was so clear. There was no hurry. It's even okay to cum and be no longer in the mood, to stop without reciprocation if that's what either of them need. No boundary will hurt feelings, they could just hang out together until they felt sexy again, and then kneel and begin a whole new bout of sex, this time the other's turn to feel good. It was a good feeling, knowing that this wasn't just two horny dudes, but people who care about each other, even if just as a friend. He could relax for a while, or even go home, and then ask to play with his new friend's cock when he was ready.

Juan was taking my previous instruction quite faithfully. Despite my body language encouraging an increasingly energetic, adrenaline-fuelled motion, he smiled at me and kept his rhythm, his hand a perfect metronome of slow and steady full up-and-down paces. He experimented with an added slow twist as he brought me up and down, but he wouldn't accelerate. My body began a less rational squirming, proto-bucking, and I even whispered little emerging pleads to him, never formed into full sentences, always degrading into soft grunts and whispers. As he watched the penis in his hand, Juan fawned at its slow transformation. My penis began to swell to an increased width, its scrotum drew up and inward, its foreskin stopped closing and bunching up together on the upstroke... It began pulsing on its own, with its own beat. I was sighing and pleading at intense unresolved sensations of pressure and autonomic demands that I enact a more traditional vigorous thrust, but my lover's hand was slow and soft, exactly as I had earlier specified. My face opened up with alert eyes and shocked mouth, arching my head back in jerks and squirming chaotically now, and stealing a glance I saw my balls were held two-handed and with firm fingers. His fevered excitement of what he was doing vibrated my cock within him.

And I could feel my cum sloshing around in me, rapidly turning corners, yearning to rush out into the warm lovely place that engulfed me.

I know a penis has far less semen than the average man believes it has, but it was still a strange concept to me, to drink something from another person's body. It probably delayed my cum for 30 more seconds to come back to my senses and warn him, but it was too important -- I whispered "My cum is.... It's cumming man... It's your.... Uhhh it's your choice..."

Just then my pleasure increased exponentially, and it took me a moment to figure out why: when I had mentioned my own cum his mouth had filled up with (hungry?) drool and I was now sliding alongside his cheeks and tongue soaked in his spit and it was glorious and my conscious mind surrendered to raw sensation, I was a gasping thrashing thing with no intelligence or will any more. So I unleashed my orgasm into his body, onto his tongue and past it, each flex of my penis releasing another pulse of fluid out of my body, hoping distantly that this was his intention given how my warning had gone. Juan didn't falter, didn't pull back, didn't hesitate or withdraw even slightly, drinking me gulp by gulp. He had done it. Because of our gradual foreplay of nervous exploration I had endured, my orgasm was relentlessly long, and I arched chaotically long after my cum had stopped its rush outward.

And despite the inevitable oncoming fatigue and lethargy of my afterglow, the immediate transformation into a man far less horny and needy that came after every ejaculation I've ever had, I willed myself back to reality and resolved without hesitation that he needed to come to a similar landing. Leaning far forward, I caught him, his smaller body easy to reposition further along the floor, until I again found that wonderful penis, slick once more with sheer sparkling liquid, the physical manifestation of prolonged arousal. And I plunged down on him. I abandoned any attempt at strategy or technique and aggressively enjoyed the feel and taste of a deep in-and-out, loving the precum, the sweat, and the taste that was uniquely him and no one else. Deep within my mouth I lapped at him with my tongue and swooned as I continued an unceasing penetration into my own body. I hadn't tried going deep before, perhaps because this was my first large penis but also because this was my first true consummation of my horny need for gay lovemaking. I felt with my first engulfing of his cock into my mouth that I had now ignited the last stretch of his sex, and I giddily welcomed his cum inside me. Given the way I was tasting and touching him and vibrating his penis with happy sighs I knew he knew I was welcoming it.

As the moment continued I wondered and wondered whether I could take it. I had wondered this question for years and now I was impatiently pumping cum out of a man. As Juan's testicles tightened in my affectionate grasp, I promised myself that if I didn't take all his cum into me it wouldn't be because I didn't try. As his voice grunted rhythmically, I began swallowing motions pre-emptively.

There was no explosive singular moment, but before I knew it, my swallows had content, thick, viscous, tangy, and warm, and I swallowed it without analyzing it, in gulps, putting myself in his shoes and anticipating the firm but slippery motions that would overwhelm and then calm him, just as I always needed to cum. In these first seconds I thrust him deep inside and all the way out, again and again, just as I had been for the past minute. And, just as I needed each time I came, I gradually slowed, then stopped pumping, and kept my mouth softly on him until long seconds after. I slowly slowly nuzzled into him, memorizing the shape of him inside me one last time. And finally I softly slid off, slid Juan out of my body. I looked at him. He looked amazed and exhausted.

And it was so unreal: in my bedroom lay myself and another man, naked and tasting of each other's cum, facing opposite directions, penises unabashedly in view and reach, both still as long as erections but now sleepily soft.

Propped up on our respective elbows, we heaved gently and gazed at each other, almost glaring. Just for the hell of it I smiled and gave his relaxing scrotum a soft final kiss, and then noticed an after-shock of cum pooling at his foreskin. It just felt right to put my lips around his tip one last time and tongue the liquid into me, and this time I had more time to notice the sharp saline tang of his cum. Over sensitive now, Juan gasped, though certainly not in protest.

I spoke first.

"You let me know the next time you need this, okay? No pressure, but - and I don't have any idea how you'll take this Juan - you're delicious...... I mean that literally. You taste wonderful. You let me know if you want this again."

"Man I'd love that. But it's risky, y'know."

"Juan, you're a few blocks away. If this is something you'd like to do again, then we have a long, long time to find out every way we like to cum and every way we like to take cum..." Juan looked bashful at the outset of that statement, but visibly swelled his narrow chest at the thought of the sheer possibilities. How many ways could you cum... how many ways could you take cum... It was like he was counting, and I smiled. I smiled more when I noticed the thought experiment reset his arousal. "You deserve this. When two grown ups consent, they're allowed to have nice sex. So what do you say? Yes? And if Yes, tomorrow? Next week? Right now?"

I didn't know as I extended the breathy invitation whether he'd dare make the sneak up the hill ever again, but Juan's answer to my question was to eagerly bring his face to mine, and for a long moment we kissed ample traces of our own cum back into our respective bodies.

And that's how I learned my own cum tastes good. After which masturbation was forever a somewhat enhanced experience.