In Which TED Answers Your Question

A comment from my last post:

Anonymous said...
Do Asian guys normally have smaller cocks?

As it happens, I'd like to answer that question.

Dear Anonymous,

Yes.

Love,
TED

Unsurprisingly, however, I have more to say about it than that. First, let me start off by pointing you to this map. I can't really vouch for the underlying research, but I will say that it comports with my experience, which could be summed up with a vast (but not, I hope, offensive) oversimplification: black cocks are bigger than brown cocks; brown cocks are bigger than white cocks; white cocks are bigger than yellow cocks.


As I said, that's an oversimplification. There are hung guys from the far east, and there are small-dicked Africans, though I can only remember playing with one black guy whose cock I would actually consider small. But, on the whole, some ethnicities/nationalities have bigger cocks than others. There are plenty of guys who will tell you that this isn't the case, but I don't believe them. (Typically, the guys who tell me that are guys who have not personally examined as large a sample size as I have; they're also usually white guys who mostly stick to white cock. More for me.)

The bigger question here is whether size matters. And the answer is yes, but only to some people, and in varying amounts. There are, of course, the hardcore size queens, for whom bigger is always better, and who will often end up with people that have you asking, "What does he see in him?" until you see him in a Speedo. There are also the (significantly rarer, I believe) guys for whom a small cock is a prerequisite to lust.


Most people have some sort of preference for larger or smaller cocks, but it's just not that big of a deal. Here's an analogy. Let's say that your favorite ice cream flavor is rocky road. If you go to an ice cream parlor, you're going to order rocky road. You might be disappointed if there's no rocky road and you have to get something else, but you'll take something else. But let's say you're in your office, and someone comes around and offers you a cup of strawberry ice cream. Are you disappointed because it's not rocky road? Hell no: you got ice cream! This is how most guys are with penis size.


When you're talking about body parts and attraction, you (or at least I) have two different things going on. There's your aesthetic attraction and then there's your visceral attraction. Aesthetic attraction is something that you look at and think, "Oh, cute!" (or whatever). Visceral attraction is something that gives you wood. I, for example, still have an aesthetic appreciation for a good pair on a woman, but it's a purely mental phenomenon. A great set of manboobs (which in my case mostly means fabulous nipples), on the other hand, makes the motor run. You can plot your levels of aesthetic and visceral attraction on a graph. I have done so: [I apologize for the orientation and crappy quality of this graph. I sketched it on scrap paper and photographed it with my iPhone. I'll fix it later and remove this note.]


I have, as you can see, more of an aesthetic than a visceral appreciation for cock. Obviously, I have some sort of visceral attraction to them since I like to make them shoot, but I get a lot more worked up (aesthetically and viscerally) by lips and nips. And when it comes to size, well, it varies. By and large, I like my men's cocks to fit the stereotypes and the body. If I'm playing with a Black guy, I like a big cock, especially if he's a big guy. If I'm playing with an Asian, small and uncut, please. I'm sort of ambivalent on cock size when it comes to Latin men, and on white guys, it's mostly a question of how tall the guy is. I find a long, well-formed cock to be very pleasing (aesthetically much more than viscerally) on a tall white guy. Then again, regardless of race, there's something very entertaining about a short guy with a massive dick. It's just cool.

But none of these things matter very much. They're just nice to see in that I'm-at-the-ice-cream-store-and-I-can-have-any-flavor-I-want-plus-sprinkles-and-a-cherry sort of way. (When I'm dealing with a guy one-on-one, I'm more likely to just focus on whichever feature I like best on that guy.)


And, again, that's just me. There are plenty of guys for whom big dick is the main attraction. But big dick can mean a lot of things. I, for example, do not think of myself as hung, but if you look at the statistics, the circumference of my cock is in the upper levels, even while the length is just maybe slightly above average. So I not infrequently have the experience of hooking up with a guy who's slightly aesthetically disappointed by the length but is viscerally ecstatic when I get around to fucking him and who leaves thinking that I'm huge. I'm really not boasting here: my cock is what it is, and everyone who likes to have a lot of sex with multiple partners makes the most of whatever advantages he has. I happen to think that my technique is more impressive than my shaft, but whatever brings guys I want to play with to my bed is fine with me.

Break-Up Sex

I'd been dating this guy (aka That Guy) for a little over a year, but that ended -- not, as they say, with a bang but a whimper -- late yesterday morning. I always figure there are two sure ways of getting over a guy: ice cream and other guys. I was out of ice cream, so I posted to craigslist.

I haven't been posting to CL much lately because That Guy had said that if I was going to have sex with other guys (which he wasn't doing), I needed to be discreet to avoid embarrassing him. So I'd cut down on my online presence (and my hook-ups, alas) significantly. I was still fooling around, mostly with guys I'd played with before, but rarely more than once or twice a week.

Anyway, I only had until about 3:30 to play, since the girls were coming over around 4, but I got a live one pretty quickly. He was a smooth, blond sub in his mid-thirties, and he wanted the usual treatment: call him a slut, and he's yours. I let him in the door, closed it, and pushed him against it, took his lower lip between my lips, grabbed his hand and put it on my crotch, grabbed both his nipples, and took his breath away for a bit. I turned him around, pushed him towards the stairs, and grabbed the back of his waistband and pulled his jeans and boxers down over his ass as he walked up.

I bent him over the bed and smacked his ass a few times, then told him to strip. When he was naked, I grabbed his nips and backed him onto the bed, lying on top of him and kissing him while I kept twisting. Then I straddled his chest and started to feed him my cock, but not many guys can really suck cock in that position, and he wasn't one of them, so I pulled him up, lay down, and pushed his head towards my crotch.


The whole thing seemed very driven, so rather than let him just go down on me for a while, I pulled his ass around and started to eat and finger it. He was really tight, and getting two fingers in took a bit of effort, but it was all fun. I told him not to stop sucking me as I reached between us to tweak a nipple.

A few minutes later, he came up for air, and I told him to sit on me. I handed him a condom and the lube, he gloved me up, slicked his ass, and had a seat. Well, tried to have a seat, at first, anyway. Really tight, and it took him a while to open up, but before very long he had managed to pull my whole cock into his ass, and he rode while I played with his dick. He was pretty worked up, and it looked like he might be getting too close to shooting, so I grabbed his thigh and lifted, which he correctly took as a sign to get off my cock, then I put him on his back, bent him in half, and slid back into him. I took it easy for the first few strokes, but I knew he'd love it hard, so I started thrusting away. That's always such a great position: it's very intense for the bottom, it's an easy position for me to fuck really hard in, I never shoot that way, and sometimes the bottom will cum without me even touching his cock. This guy didn't, but he appreciated the hard fuck, and I occasionally got to reach down and pinch his nips.

This guy had said that he liked bondage, but I wasn't really feeling into full-tilt tie down, so I put one of his wrists in one of the restraints that I keep tied to the bed, and that seemed to be enough. The advantage of one wrist only is that I could (and, in fact, did) move him from on his back to on his side to on his belly without untying him. But after that, I did untie him and had him mount me again so that I could jerk him off while he bounced up and down on me. I knew I had another guy coming over in less than an hour, so I didn't really want to cum, and I wasn't so sure I'd be able to pull that off, so to speak, because this guy was really tight, and his ass was really working my cock. But I did make him shoot on my chest before I was on the last leg to orgasm, and I was even able to let him climb off, wipe up, pull off the condom, and stroke me for a while before I stopped him and told him that was enough. Then he got dressed and headed back home to his partner (he didn't say, but I'm pretty sure).


When Brian didn't show at 1:30, I emailed him, and it turned out he'd been waiting for me to contact him again. I'd gotten a text from Ken saying that he'd like to play, and Ken always likes groups, but Brian really didn't seem like the type. I'm usually pretty comfortable with just telling everyone to show up because when I do that one of three things happens: a)somebody doesn't show up (20%), b) one person gets a little freaked out and leaves (5%), or c) the more the merrier (75%). But Ken always takes a little while to arrive, so I told Brian to come on over, and Ken said he could be there by 3 and gone by 3:45, so it all should have worked out.

And it did.

I'd only hooked up with Ken once before, but he it was a real fun time, and he was a real nice guy, so I felt a little sheepish about just grabbing him without chatting on the couch for a bit, but deadlines are deadlines, and once we started kissing in the living room, his reticence to just get into it (which had been palpable on first lip lock) melted pretty quickly. I also pretty quickly got him upstairs and naked, and he said, "Damn, you're horny." I said, "We don't have all that much time, and, yes, I'm definitely horny." I was somewhat gentler and less rushed with Ken than with Sub 1, but most of the same things happened. Ken's a black guy with fabulous lips, so there was more kissing, and he has very reactive nipples, so there was more nip play, and there was not -- alas -- time to eat his ass, so we moved more directly to the fucking, but we did most of the same things in most of the same positions, and in the end, he came (I had him on his back, and jerked him to climax while I latched onto one of his nips), and I didn't. I know that description sounds a little bit dismissive, but it was definitely grrrrreat sex, and I hope that I'll have him again soon for a more protracted session. He lives not far away, but he's still in his bi phase, and it takes a while for the hunger to overcome his reticence. Guys like that can be frustrating, but they're a lot less frustrating when you have a lot of them stored in your contacts list.


Ken showed up a minute or two after 3, and he knew we had a deadline, so he wanted to get right upstairs and undressed. Ken's cute, and he has big soft lips, and a really nice ass, but he's mostly just into frot, and the last time he was over he freaked out a little because he'd started dating someone and was feeling really guilty. He's still dating the same guy, but apparently he's moved past the guilt phase, and we've exchanged a number of texts recently. I reckon he saw the CL ad and contacted me directly.

Anyway, we got right into the kissing and frot, with us alternating who was sucking on whose lower lip and who was on top. And I sometimes worked his nips a little or kissed his neck, but mostly it was just half an hour of naked making out with frot. Or, I guess, from his perspective it was naked frot with making out. Either way, he got increasingly excited from the rubbing of our dicks together, and he eventually shot. Then he said, "We have to get you off," so I sucked on his lips some more, grabbed my cock, jerked for a few minutes, and, well, apparently I hadn't actually cum in a few days because I ended up with semen all over me. But I keep towels by the side of the bed for a reason, right?

Anyway, he was gone by 3:45, and by that time, That Guy was pretty much washed right out of my hair. There's a tiny bit of residual melancholy, but only because I still haven't had any ice cream.

Bits and Bobs

Well, let's call him Bob, anyway. I didn't bother to learn his name the first time we hooked up, and that was two or three years ago. I reckon I've fucked him about ten times since then, and he's reliably a two-star lay, but he was on fire yesterday. He'd gotten in touch with me online about ten days earlier, and I'd planned to go over to his place a week earlier, but it didn't pan out for a reason that I can't remember but that was my fault. Anyway, when I got there, he had to come downstairs to let me in, and the elevator had been commandeered by someone moving in (or perhaps out), so we walked up to his fifth floor condo. Nice view. Of his ass, I mean.

Inside his condo, when I began kissing him, he responded with unusual vigor, and it was a very fun time. I figured that he hadn't had sex (or at least cock) in quite some time. We made out in the hallway for a few minutes, and I went at his nips for a while before I pushed him along into the bedroom. As usual, he said nothing. He's very much the strong, silent type (he's a truck driver for a local construction company), but I learned that I can get a little noise out of him by kissing, sucking, and biting the side of his neck, just under his jaw line. He was still dead silent when I fucked him, but that didn't happen for half an hour. I don't usually get nearly so much foreplay out of him, and I wondered idly, as he was going down on me, and I was fingering his ass, whether he was going for a third star. Which is a little silly, really, since it's not like I'm publishing some sort of Guide Michelin of bottoms and by giving me better head and/or ass he'd be increasing the flow of tops to his establishment. I rather doubt that he plays with any other guys. He always claims to be single (divorced) and that the woman who lives with him is just a roommate, but her blouses were on hangers on the bedroom doorknob, the decor in his room is decidedly feminine (and he is decidedly not), and when he said "Go easy" and I asked him for some lube, he fetched it from the top of a very tall dresser, where it was hidden behind some scrollwork. The copy of Ladies Home Journal on the bed stand was also a clue.

Anyway, I don't really care if he has a live in girlfriend as long as she doesn't walk in on us (We can discuss another time whether a shriekingly angry girlfriend or one who wants to join in is more horrific.), and it was a fun hour to cap off the weekend's sex. The jury's still out on the final rating, but it's a good one.



The recent -- and nearly full-time -- return to the nest of my oldest daughter has definitely meant a reduction in the frequency of my sexual exploits (I still go see the current bf one or two times a week, but I think that particular relationship has an expiration date on it), but she spends the odd weekend and evening at her mom's, and she usually tells me in advance when she's going to do that, so I try to cram in as much sex as possible during that time. So, for example, on Friday night, I was juggling the responses to a craigslist ad when I got an email from Mike saying that he'd had his root canal, and that he was very horny (no sex since we'd played before he'd gone to California for a week with his family) but couldn't kiss. At almost exactly the same time, a text from BLABS (built like a brick shithouse) informed me that he "need[ed] cock." So I emailed Mike that I'd be available later, and I texted BLABS to come over. He lives no more than a mile away, and he said he was just out of the shower and then would be on his way, but when there was a knock on my door five minutes later, it was Mike.

Mike's a twenty-something Chinese top who (when he hasn't had a root canal) kisses pretty well after he's warmed up, but who I play with mostly because he's too cute not to. He works in his family's restaurant business and lives at home, so he doesn't have a lot of opportunities to play, and he's not very experienced, but he has nice lips, and he's friendly, and he's oh so reactive when I suck his nipples or eat his ass.

Anyway, I was expecting BLABS momentarily, and Mike's expressed some interest in a threeway, but BLABS and Mike would be a laughable combo, so I just gave Mike a quick hug and began to suck on his nipple and stuck my hand down the back of his jeans and squeezed. Then I unbuttoned the jeans, got on my knees and began to suck on his cute, little cock. (His cock, in fact, is so cute and so little that I let him fuck me once because a) it isn't long enough to penetrate, and b) it gets him so worked up that he comes in, no lie, twenty seconds. He insisted on wearing a condom, and the only ones available were my Magnums, and, well, it was pretty funny, but he really liked it. He whispered "I love you" when he came. He really is cute.) I reached up and tweaked his nips a bit, then I turned him around, bent him over the couch, and ate his ass for maybe thirty seconds before I stood him back up, turned him around, took his cock in my mouth, stuck my thumb into his ass, and sucked for another minute, which includes the time it took to swallow. I hugged him again, and he left. I told him next time would be longer.



BLABS showed up a few minutes later, and, well, usually BLABS is leaving about five minutes after he arrives because he's often over in the middle of the night, after having snuck out of his bed, and he wants to be back before his girlfriend notices that he's missing. This time, apparently, his girlfriend was out for a while because we actually made out at the door for nearly a full minute before he started up the stairs. As will always happen when he's here, I only let him get a few steps up before I grab the back of his waistband and pull both it and him down so that I can eat his ass on the stairway. This got him very heated up, but when I got him upstairs, he went with (some) more kissing instead of immediately trying to sit on my cock. He even went down on me for a while. Which, to be fair, he usually does, but only long enough for me to shove my tongue up his ass to loosen him a little.

No, this time he was downright leisurely, and he probably had probably been inside the house for seven -- or possibly even eight! -- minutes before he decided that he needed to be sitting on my cock. Typically, he rides the cock for no more than forty-five seconds before he's nutting and then dressing and leaving, but this time he rode for a couple of minutes and then I pushed him down on his stomach and gave him a solid three minutes of deep dicking.

Sadly, when I went to put him on his back and shove his ankles behind his ears, I discovered the signs of some gastrointestinal distress. It is not in my nature to panic at such occurrences, so I just shepherded him into the shower, and after a minute of soap and water, I continued fucking him in there. I am not so much into fucking in the shower, though, so after I'd made my point, I guess, I got out of the shower and waited for him in bed (which I'd changed). He came in with a towel wrapped around his waist, and, boy howdy, that is a sight to behold. It's kind of why I put up with his, um, accelerated style of hooking up. That and the fact that five minutes is not that much of my time that I miss giving it to anybody.

BLABS said that his GI symptoms were continuing and that we'd have to resume on another occasion. I shrugged and took the sheets downstairs to the washer.



I had two different Latino bottoms scheduled for slightly later in the evening, and although I tried to get them to be there separately, they both came at about the same time. Fortunately, neither of them minded the other's presence in the least, and since I had sufficient stamina and turgidity to fuck a load out of each of them, they both had a great time. As did I, though I didn't spill any of my own seed. I saved that for the midnight round, when yet another Latino bottom, this one in his early twenties, showed up and went down. On me, naturally. I tried making out with him and a few other things, but he insisted that he was on a tight schedule and needed to start sucking my cock right away. Oddly enough, he didn't complain when it took forty minutes of a very wet, very skillful blowjob before I finally took pity on him and took matters into my own hand. A minute or so later I put matters back into his hands, just in time for me to blow an immense load all over his face. He seemed very grateful. Also unwilling to stop sucking my cock, even after I'd shot the load. I began to feel a little uncomfortable, or at least my cock did, but after another couple of minutes, he got dressed and headed out. I went to sleep. All in all, a pretty good Friday night.

Merely Stating the Obvious

I was wiping the cum (his own) off a guy's stomach after a pretty good session the other day. He'd been a quietly submissive bottom, and after I'd had him face down on the mattress, fucking him hard and alternately biting his shoulder and talking dirty in his ear (not really my forte, but if you're fucking a guy hard enough, he certainly doesn't care about the quality of the chatter, and he probably isn't even hearing the individual words) for ten minutes or so (maybe forty minutes into the session), I'd rolled him onto his back and resumed making out with him while I played with his cock and one nip until he'd shot. He was a really good kisser despite having unimpressive white boy lips (The other evening, I was over at That Guy's place, and he asked me what I liked best about him, and I said his fire. Then he said what he liked best about me was my lips. I have mixed feelings about being liked primarily for any of my body parts, but I am forced to acknowledge that you would be hard pressed to find a better combination of plumpness and skill in the lips of a white guy.), and if his nips weren't all that, well, nobody's perfect, right?


Anyway, as I was wiping, I said, "So you're married, right?"

He looked nonplussed for a moment, but then regained equilibrium and said, "Yeah, how did you know?"


I just laughed for a second and then said, "Dude. You're from Germantown. You kiss well. You love getting fucked. You were wearing an ESPN t-shirt when you got here. You drove up in an SUV. I didn't have to be Sherlock to call that one."

He just laughed. Next time he wants to be tied down. I'm game, but with gas prices what they are, he'd probably save a lot of money if he just bought some rope and a strap-on for his wife to use.


In answer to a question from Will in a recent comment, my bed's doing just fine these days. After the last collapse, I decided to balance it on two high-backed Ikea dining chairs at the head and three cheap Ikea stools at the foot. I didn't think this would work as a long-term solution, due to possible sliding during heavy-duty usage, but it's been great. The mattress still slides across the deck a bit, since there are no sides to the platform, and I should probably fix that sometime, but it's very sturdy, and the deck itself doesn't move.

New York Minute

Honestly, I started this post a while back, probably right after I got back from NYC, mostly just to remember the various guys I hooked up with on my less-than-forty-eight-hour trip there. Sexual memory is an odd thing: I probably wouldn't recognize half of those guys if I saw them on the street tomorrow, but the one-sentence thumbnails that I left here were enough to bring back the men, if not all the details of the encounters. The details, as I've said before, kind of bleed into one another anyway, since you do pretty much the same things (or at least you choose elements from the same limited set) with almost every guy you're with. Anyway, here's the rest of the post, with the now-somewhat-fleshed-out descriptions.

This past tax season was something of a bruiser, and -- due to the vagaries of Federal tax law and DC's insistence on having a holiday on April 15th -- what should have been a three-day weekend off turned into my having to go to the office on Monday the 18th. Such is life. I would have liked to take the rest of the week off, but I had to be back in the office Thursday morning for an IRS audit. That gave me Monday evening, all day Tuesday, and Wednesday morning to enjoy NYC. Sadly, the usual 4 - 4.5 hour bus took 6.5 hours, so I had less of the evening than I wanted. But I also had my iPhone and Craigslist, so in addition to some good food, a little shopping, and a half-price ticket to Priscilla: Queen of the Desert (something of a guilty pleasure, but ultimately a thumbs down: see another show), I managed to hook up with seven guys in something less than forty-eight hours. Nothing like a record, but not bad, I guess. Also, I got a 3.5-star hotel room for two nights for less than $300 total, including fees and taxes. I had to stay in what is apparently known as the FiDi, but being right next to the World Trade Center site was kind of cool, and the boys in NYC are apparently used to taking cabs to hook-ups.


1. Slender, youngish mixed race guy. He seemed a bit nervous when he arrived, but he very quickly got comfortable. Nice lips, good kisser, loved bouncing up and down on my cock. In what was to become something of a theme, he was in my room for less than half an hour and then blamed me for being too skilled for him to hold back his orgasm. It seems that almost all New Yorkers are hurried, nervous, and a bit disillusioned. But they're fun in the sack, and since I had guy 2 lined up, it was no big deal sending guy 1 on his way after thirty minutes.


2. Blue collar guy who spent the night. You know I joke about being a sexual missionary to the inexperienced masses, but sometimes it really seems to be the case. I got a response from a guy who said that he was in a bar in Chelsea and wanted to come by later, and then I didn't hear back after my reply, and then, apparently, he got drunker, and he said he wanted to come over. The young, inexperienced, and drunk often have limited sexual utility, but they are often otherwise amusing. Also cute. This particular guy was more handsome than cute, but that works, too, and the straight-out-of-All-in-the-Family New Yawk accent is a fun thing. I wish I remembered the details better, but I do know that I fucked him twice, and that between fucks we went to a bar near the hotel that apparently caters to blue collar types. How else can you explain having four beers for less than thirty bucks in Manhattan? I had to kick him out a little on the early side the next morning, but I think he had to get to work anyway.


3. Married marketing guy. You gotta love a fit handsome guy who gets all the way to his fifties without having more than one or two experiences with men. These guys are typically very outgoing in their professional lives, but shy and sweet when they finally overcome their inhibitions enough to want some man-to-man and you happen to be the other man in the right place at the right time. Anyway, this guy was a great kisser, and he loved what I did to his nipples and his ass. He wouldn't let me fuck him, but, well, I was already on pace to go through my supply of condoms, and I still wanted to see some of the city outside my hotel room. He put a lot of effort into not coming right away, but he was only successful for half an hour. Again, I was told I was too good for him to hold back. Again: whatever. I still exchange the occasional email with this guy, so if I'm back in the city alone again, I might have him, again, on his way to the office. Le yum.

4. Italian advertising guy. I had this guy for a nooner after I'd been out walking across the lower part of the city to get some tickets for a show and score some very good falafel. He worked at a midtown advertising agency of some sort, and he'd put the sort of effort into his appearance that you'd expect from an Italian in advertising. His clothing didn't do much for me, but he looked pretty good naked. He also came in just under half an hour, but he wasn't trying to hold anything back. I suspect all of his hookups are like that. Anyway, he had a very responsive ass, and I had my tongue and then cock up it, and by this time I was used to the fast pace, so it was all good.


5. Mr. Nips. This guy was also in his fifties, with lots of ink and metal, and he really loved loved loved having his nips worked hard. They were both pierced, and when I had him on his back with my cock slamming into him, he came when I tugged hard on both of them, which, unsurprisingly, happened about half an hour in. He said that he never shoots that quickly but that I was just too damned good with his nipples. Do you think these guys get together and coordinate their scripts? Anyway, y'all know how much I love nips, so it was a very hot half hour. Sadly, he later texted me to tell me what a great job I'd done on his nips, and I apparently ruined things by saying "Who is this?" In my defense, the number of guys who tell me that I've done a great job on their nips is a relatively large number, and I can't be expected to recognize all of the NY area exchanges, can I? Oops.

6. Indian dude who wanted to be racially degraded. Oh, dude, there are limits. I will chew on your nips and pin you down and pretend that I'm forcing you to shove your tongue in my mouth. I will eat your very hot ass while you go down on me, and I will then pin you down and rub my cock against yours when you claim that you are really a top. I will eat your pits and eat your ass some more while you jerk a healthy load onto my chest, and I will even accede to your demands that I pump a load onto your chest. But I will not call you a "sand n*****." He sure was pretty, though.

7. Short, uber-hairy dude. This guy tried to get to me early in my stay, but I was fucking someone else, and then I told him I was free, but he was stuck at a Seder or something, and I thought we probably wouldn't ever hook up, but he wanted it very badly, and he was pretty much worth the wait. Compact lean guys always get my motor going, whether they're smooth or hairy, but I'd done a lot of smooth on this trip, and sometimes it's fun to have to search for the nipples with your tongue so that you can clamp down on them to make the bottom throw his head back and pant. He actually had a full forty-five minutes to give me, so by NYC standards it was quite the leisurely fuck. Well, to the extent that having a guy bounce up and down on my cock faster and faster while I fist his cock until he shoots all over me can be considered leisurely. He had exceptionally attractive lips, and he knew what to do with them (i.e., he lay back and let me suck on them while he sighed and made lots of precum). It's always nice to end with a live wire.

Still Kicking

So, yeah, I haven't posted here in a while, and I don't really have any compelling reasons for the silence. Non-compelling reasons include the following:

1. It seems like it's harder to swipe pictures off flickr these days. I mean, I get the whole intellectual property thing, but it's not like I was making money from using those pictures. Also, it's probably still possible, so that probably boils down to:

2. Laziness. You'll note the lack of pics in this post. Sorry. I like them, too.

3. I really like writing about my sex life, but after a while it started to seem like all my sex sounded the same. You'll notice that about both fictional (which mine is not) and non-fictional (which mine is) pornography in general, I think, and it kind of makes sense. If you find practices that reliably give you great joy no matter how many times you do them (I'm guessing at this point that I've eaten a couple of hundred different asses over the past nine or ten years, and the two I ate on Tuesday were every bit as good as the ones I ate when I was first starting out. Not that they're all that great, but a good ass is timeless.), then you're going to keep doing them, right? I mean the Hare Krishnas don't get up some days and say, "Hey, let's chant the preamble to the Constitution today for a change of pace!" Or at least I presume they don't. Anyway, I don't generally find good sex in any way monotonous, and when I do, it just means that it's time to fuck someone else for a session or two. Which reminds me:

4. I've been dating the same guy since November, and he's been taking up a fair amount of my time. And I don't really want to write about my sex life with him, just because I'm pretty sure he'd see that as a betrayal and tacky. Mostly tacky. I will mention, though, that this guy (whom I generally refer to as That Guy) has been warning me since about the second date (Which, arguably, could be the third date since apparently he and I hooked up about three years ago when I was still living with b&c; when we met again this past November, I remembered him, but I didn't actually remember the sex. Oops.) that if things between us progressed to a certain point, then he would demand exclusivity. I am extremely ambivalent about this notion of exclusivity. On the one hand, That Guy is the bomb. He's extraordinarily attractive, and I sometimes refer to him as Catnip just because when I'm in his presence I almost invariably feel intoxicated (and not just because he's always plying me with cocktails and I'm not much of a drinker). On the other hand: exclusive, really? I just honestly don't see the point of it. But it's very clear that That Guy sees the point and that it's very important to him. Or that it would become very important to him at some point. He and I have very different views of sexuality. I would characterize his position as more stereotypically feminine. He has not, for instance, had sex with anyone else since we started dating. I had been pretty sure of this fact (without wanting to bring it up because I just don't want to encourage him to utter the E-word) since about a month into dating him, but he told me so explicitly a couple of weeks ago. Also, he has a slower arousal response than most guys, including -- especially -- me. By which I mean that for the first couple of months we were dating, it was sometimes difficult to get him to bed, presumably because he wasn't emotionally invested. Now if I'm over at his place on a weeknight, I'm lucky if I can get out of there at 11 (having arrived at 8) and without fucking a third (or possibly fourth; I lose track sometimes) load out of him. Anyway, we've always gotten along terrifically out of the sack, and the sex has been getting better and better (two or three months ago I'd have said that I'd never agree to an exclusive arrangement just because the sex wasn't all that), and I do find it very hard to say no to any bottom who knows nine languages, so we'll just have to see how that goes.

But the exclusivity thing -- if it ever arrives -- is clearly in the future, so I've continued to be fairly active, sort of like I'm having a clearance sale. Everything must go! So, for example, when I took my post-busy season quickie trip to NYC, I was in the city for less than forty-eight hours and had seven different guys, a couple of which weren't even quickies. (I have noticed, however, that NYC guys are on a much faster pace in all areas. At least five of those guys told me that they didn't usually come that fast but that they did because I was just so hot. Oh, puh-leeeze. I think even the guy who spent the night used that line on me. Twice.)

A more recent example: I believe it was this past Monday night. I had just gotten home and was doing a couple of household chores before heading over to That Guy's house for the evening, and I got a text message from David, an extraordinarily cute twenty-something Chinese-born local resident. He wanted to play, and I told him, sure, but it'd have to be a quickie because I needed to leave for That Guy's house by 7:30, and he said he would wait for later in the week, and I said, "Are you sure? You can have a lot of fun in twenty minutes," and he said he'd come over.

David, frankly, is not that great in the sack, in part because he's very inexperienced, and in part because he's convinced that he's a top. I have not yet had time to disabuse him of that notion, so while he occasionally will play with my cock as a matter of curiosity and/or jealousy (his own cock is quite small), he doesn't go down on it, and I don't get to fuck him. On the plus side, though, his body is pretty much a live wire, and the fact that his experience is mostly confined to drunken furtive fucks at the end of parties that he attends with his cousins (who -- he says -- don't know he's gay) means that he really appreciates (loudly) my experience, skills, and full range of bodily stimulation. Also, he has nice lips and kisses well. And, of course, there's that extraordinarily cute thing. But he never stays for a second orgasm, even though he's in his mid-twenties, and he doesn't make any real effort to get me off, so half an hour of him is usually just about the right amount of time, and twenty minutes is plenty.

In this particular case, I started eating his ass on the stairway up to the bedroom, and he started moaning. I moved him to the bedroom, finished undressing him, and put him down on the bed, where I went after his small but very sensitive nipples. We made out briefly, and then I had him sit on my face. I continued to run my fingertips lightly along the sensitive parts (i.e., all) of his body, while I shoved my tongue deeply into him. Vocal writhing ensued. Eventually, I shoved my thumb into his ass and banged it hard against his prostate while I sucked on his cock. He got louder. A minute later, I swallowed his load. Small but sweet, kind of like his cock -- and him. I was still, mostly, in my work clothes. We chatted for a bit, I saw him out, and then I showered and headed off for a significantly more adult interaction with That Guy. David is a lot of fun in his way, but he's very much an amuse bouche. With time, he might progress to an appetizer or maybe a pasta course, but every time he comes over, I figure it might very well be the last, and I won't especially mind.

Another One Bites the Dust

I was balls deep in a blindfolded married sub from Colorado when my bed collapsed. This is the second bed I've fucked apart in the past few months, but the particulars are different (though I was also balls deep in a married sub when the first one died). The first bed was a cheap-o commercial frame that I'd had for a long time and had been weakened by repeated dis- and re-assembly over many years, and I knew it was coming. The second bed was a non-nonsense, built-of-2-by-4, field-tested-for-1,000-pounds, homemade number that fell apart because of poor design.

Actually, the main deck of the bed was perfectly well constructed and remains in fine shape. I didn't lose any of the eyebolts, and the restraints are still tied to them. The problem was that I put the deck on a large number of too-long 2x4s, and I affixed the legs to the deck with two screws each, and after repeated, often intense, shaking, the whole thing turned out to be something that was, in effect sitting on stilts. Alas. Now I've pulled all the legs off, and the platform part is sitting on the floor, elevated only enough so that none of the remaining hardware can scratch the floors.*


Remarkably, Colorado took it entirely in stride when the upper right corner of the bed fell to the ground as a couple of the legs snapped free of their screws. I suppose he was prepared by the swaying of the bed during the previous couple of minutes, along with my having leapt out of the bed in an attempt to straighten and reinforce it before leaping back into his ass. Anyway, he pretty much just lay there while I figured out what to do, which was a) clear a space on the floor, b) pull him off the bed, c) pull the mattress onto the clear space on the floor, and d) put him back on the bed on the floor.

Colorado had replied to my weekend craigslist ad, with a relatively brief (and fortunately to-the-point) response saying he was back in town and wanted to play. I had to ask him who he was, and he replied that he was the guy who pretended to be robbing my house. I had to ask him which guy who pretended to be robbing my house (hey, it's a common roleplay: just ask anybody), and he said, "Colorado," and I said, "Yum." But when he replied I had an entirely different sub (not married, but he had a girlfriend) on the way over, and when that guy arrived, it was pretty clear that he wasn't leaving until I'd given him a load (not that I was trying to get rid of him or anything: he was a hot, mixed-race guy with muscles and a shaved head and nipples that didn't quit, and he kissed well), and when he left, about an hour later (roughly 12.5 seconds after I came: he was very goal oriented), it was late, and I didn't feel like fucking Colorado, who, fortunately, was still available late the next night, when I got home from the symphony (And for the love of God, people, enough with the fucking Mahler already. Also, a symphony that clocks in at 72 minutes is at least half an hour too long.), so I told him to come over.

We played the usual game, and I stood in one of the downstairs bedrooms while he came in and stripped down and somehow could not find the blindfold that I had left on the table right next to the door, so he stood facing against the wall (Note to self: you have a basement, so you can absolutely get some sub to come in, go down to the basement and face the wall. Craigslist ad title: Blair Witch Roleplay.) while I blindfolded him and then led him to the stairs and squeezed his buns, alternately, while he walked up.


Colorado likes to make out, though probably only when he's blindfolded, so I put him on the bed and started with the normal kissing and nipple play. He's pretty well put together, maybe 5'11 and smooth and fairly handsome in that semi-metrosexual, married, mid-forties kind of way, and it was all going pretty well and entirely according to plan through his going down on me and my eating his ass, but he'd said that he didn't want to be fucked that night, so I figured we'd just do that for a while and then I'd jerk off on his face and then suck him off. He always asks for that, and it doesn't take very long, and he has a nice-looking cock, so why not?

But he got more and more into it as I ate his ass, and I got a couple of fingers in, and he was really getting worked up, so I pulled him back around, face to face, and I kissed him some more while he rubbed his ass up and down against my cock, and I said, "You said you didn't want to fuck, so if you want to fuck, you're going to have to say it," and he asked for a condom. Close enough.


He was pretty tight, so it had taken a little while for him to get the condom on (the blindfold didn't seem to trouble him unduly, however) and then sit on me and ease me into him. He'd ridden me for a bit and then I'd lowered him back into the X position. He's not really a noisy fuck, but I could tell I was hitting all the right spots (There's more than one, right? There are details about bottoming that I just don't get. Anyway, I was hitting the big spot pretty well, apparently.), and I'd gotten him on his back and had grabbed his ankles and pushed them forward (he's pretty limber) and was pounding away as I hope to do for the majority of eternity if there is an afterlife and a kind and reasonable god in charge when the bed issues began.

By the time the bed issues were resolved, I had had nearly enough of the pounding, so I gave it another minute or two just to show that order had been restored, and then I started to go down on him. But I was thinking that he'd been an awfully good sport about the whole thing, so perhaps I should make like a true cocksucker and make it last. I spent the next half-hour bringing him to the edge and then easing off the cockhead and onto the nipples until he'd backed away and then repeating the process. He was extraordinarily appreciative and started making with the louder sighs and the "Oh my God"s and the "You're so much better at this than I am" (not true, really), and that was a good deal more gratifying than I might have expected.

In the end, I had a finger working his prostate and I brought him to a fairly volcanic orgasm and ejaculation. It took him a while to regroup after I had cleaned him up. I may actually have rocked his world. Of course, that probably means that now he's running all over his part of Colorado getting head, but I reckon he'll probably come back to me when he's back in the area again. From what he said as he was leaving, it seems that his mother lives here, and he comes to visit her two or three times a year, which is consistent with the frequency of his visits.

I can't say that Colorado sparked any real new interest in cocksucking: whether I want to suck the cock still depends entirely on whether it's a pretty cock, and I still usually get bored with the process after forty-five seconds or so, and most of the guys really aren't anywhere near as interested in that as they are in getting a good pounding, but it was fun.


* I started this entry a while back. The bed has since been lifted onto a pair of Ikea dining chairs (at the head) and a trio of Ikea stools (at the foot). This arrangement struck me as possibly precarious at first, but it has stood up well in real-world conditions.