Thursday, May 3, 2007

Understated Writhing

B&c is currently doing some consulting in Addis Ababa. He's semi-retired with a generous pension, so now he takes temporary assignments helping foreign governments with something or other. Actually, I know exactly what it is that he helps them with, but it's kind of uninteresting, so I pretend like either I know but can't say, or like it's something I'm not even allowed to know. That way it sounds like maybe he's a spy, or at least an unsavory character. There is, really, nothing at all unsavory about b&c, unless it's been too long since he showered, and he's pretty good about that sort of thing.

Anyway, he was in Mexico City last week, and he was only home from late Friday night through Sunday afternoon, and he had a lot of things to get done during that time, and I had to be at church on Sunday morning, so we really only had Saturday afternoon to get busy.

I don't write a lot about sex with b&c because when you've been fucking the same guy for four years, there's not a whole lot of new to say about it. I'm not saying that the sex is bad or boring, but if you have lobster three times a week for years on end, you run out of ways of saying, "The lobster is good tonight." I mean, it's lobster, and it's always going to be good, and it's better to have more of it than less of it, but if you only had it once a year, it would be more remarkable.

But there are occasional surprises and occasional reminders that as much as I preach open sexual communication and asking for what you want, there are times when, apparently, my own communication has been lacking.

Take Saturday afternoon. (Well, no, don't: I want to keep it.) We were on the bed, making out, and we'd been making out for maybe half an hour, and suddenly b&c shoved his tongue in my ear. I moaned and shifted a bit, and he pulled it out, and I said, "Dude! I wasn't complaining!" and he put it back in, after saying something about how I'd complained about it before, and I said, "No, that was your other boyfriend."

A few points:

1. "Your other boyfriend" was, obviously, a joke, but sometimes I think that we should each have our own boyfriend. We'd still be partners, of course, but why not have both? More is better.

2. The next morning, I thought long and hard to determine whether there was ever a time when I complained about having anyone's tongue in my ear. The very idea seems ludicrous, but then I remembered a time, maybe two or three years ago, when b&c was poking my ear with his finger, and I asked him to stop because it was awful. There is a huge difference between being poked with a finger and being licked. In general, I dislike being poked. In general, I like being licked. But obviously what b&c heard was that I had some issue with my ears. As a result, I missed out on a couple of years of high quality aural action. Oh, the humanity.

3. Just because you're a gay man doesn't mean you shouldn't know anything about cars. Every man, gay or straight, should know how to change a tire and how to change the oil. Being able to change a tire is an important safety issue. You can't always afford to wait for AAA to come. Besides, it looks really butch. Knowing how to change the oil (and, I hasten to add, you can still have a car place do it for you; you don't have to actually change the oil yourself: you just have to know how to) is crucial, because if you're saying that you don't know how to change the oil, what you're really saying is that you're a gay man without an intimate knowledge of the importance and mechanics of proper lubrication. Need I say more?

4. I realize that last point wasn't terribly relevant to the rest of this post, but I'd said that I had "a few points," and I didn't feel like going back and changing it to "a couple of points." Deal.

So the tongue came back, and it was great. I am, for the most part, a fairly sedate fuck. I may have you bent over the bed and be pounding away at you hard and fast, but there remains great stillness in my motion. My hands won't be flailing all over the place, and I won't be jittery. I don't make a lot of weird noises. Generally, I make other guys get jittery and make a lot of weird noises. But with b&c's tongue in my ear, there were some definite guttural utterances, and there was a fair amount of movement. Not wriggling, certainly, and not quite writhing. Understated writhing.

Anyway, after a whole lot of that, I was really worked up, and I gasped "Lube." B&c got up, lubed himself, lubed my cock, and had a seat. I grabbed his nips, and he rode my cock, and -- considerably sooner than usual -- he grabbed himself and pulled out a load. He wanted me to keep fucking him until I came, but I could tell that would take a while, so I pulled him down on me and just held him for a quarter hour or so, and both of us were happily still. B&c can be a little twitchy from time to time, and he often wants to start rubbing me when I just want to be touched, but this time I told him to relax and be still, and he did.

Eventually, he got up to make dinner. I'd wanted to take him out for his birthday (he'd been in Mexico City on the actual day, and on Friday, he'd eaten a lot before he got home), but he wanted to stay in, and he'd already bought some nice veal chops, so I figured why not. I was lying there, deciding whether I'd doze off and then jerk off or jerk off and then doze off, when he noticed that he had a text message from his friend K., who said that he wanted to get together.

I asked b&c whether I'd met K., and he reminded me that the three of us had had sex after our last holiday party. "Oh, him. You should call him back." K. is a very nice (and cute) Filipino nurse who loves to get fucked.

A few couple of points about Filipino nurses:

1. Although the country is spelled "The Philippines" (one l, two ps), the nationality is spelled "Filipino" (one l, one p). I have to look this up every single time (which, admittedly, is not that often) I have to write either of them. Consequently, I bear a grudge against all of Southeast Asia.

2. A few years back, when I was living alone in an apartment in a different suburb, I knew a Filipino nurse with whom I occasionally hooked up. He was also an accomplished pianist, and he lived in the basement of a house that had a full-sized grand in the living room. He would never come to my place, and he would only invite me over when his landlord was out. Then he'd sit down at the piano, pull out music, and make me sing for an hour. I have a good voice and a strong voice, but singing nearly constantly, by yourself, at a high volume (boy loved to play big and couldn't bring himself to use the soft pedal) for an hour is vocally exhausting. When I couldn't sing any more, I would pull him off the piano bench, take him down to the basement, and fuck him in his bed. He had a nice body, but he had a tendency to cum pretty quickly after I shoved into him. And he was always rushing the foreplay: I reckon he figured that was what all the singing was. He was still a good fuck, but as far as demanding bottoms go, he was sui generis.

B&c called K. back, but he had to leave a message. He was downstairs a couple of minutes later when K. returned the call, and I heard them chatting a bit, and b&c mentioned how I was at home but how I might be kind of tired, and I called out, "No, no! I'm ok. Be hospitable and invite him over."

I pretty much wanted to stay in bed and tell b&c to just send K. up when he got there (and then join us, of course), but I decided to be polite and get showered and dressed, and when K. arrived just a few minutes later, we each had a glass of wine and chatted for a bit before we jumped him. I grabbed his ass all the way upstairs. When we got there, K. said that he thought he needed to clean up a bit. B&c told him he was probably fine, but I told him to go ahead and take a shower, and when he went to do that, I looked at b&c and said, "Dude. I'm going to be eating that ass. Can we make sure it's clean, please?" Somehow this had not occurred to b&c. I think all of the blood had gone out of his brain, but, of course, he has always given new meaning to the designation "intermittently clueless."

K. got back from the bathroom, and b&c went in, so I pulled off K.'s clothes and put him on the bed, and we started making out. Mmmmm. B&c got back and joined in and started sucking on K.'s cock (which, like K., is little and cute) while K. and I continued to make out. Then I started in on K.'s nipples. B&c sucked my cock for a while, and I started to eat K.'s ass.

Details of the next hour are somewhat fuzzy, but everybody had a pretty good time. After working my tongue and (separately) a few fingers up K.'s ass, I was ready to fuck him, but after I got the condom and lube on, I could only get about an inch into his ass. I tried for a while, but then he pushed me back and pulled the condom off me. I figured that was it, but after a couple more minutes, he asked me whether I wanted to cum inside him. I said, "but you just pulled the condom off." B&c was pretty sure that K. was asking me to bareback him. I'm not entirely sure, but that was never going to happen, and I didn't feel like trying again with another condom and the same extremely tight ass. So we played more, and it was plenty of fun. Eventually B&c. sucked a load out of K. Then he tried to suck one out of me while I made out some more with K. (great, great lips), but after a while I decided just to finish myself off by hand while kissing both of them. The threeway kiss is never, in my experience, all that helpful, but I was already plenty worked up, and when I shot, I shot with great force, volume, and distance. There may have been a standing ovation, but I can't be sure.

Anyway, it was a great time. B&c and I have become somewhat wary of the threeways, but I think that we'll be doing more of them in the future. Apparently the key is for me to fuck him first, before the other guy arrives. It's a tough job, but I reckon somebody's gotta do it.


Will said...

When it comes to sex, three is definitely my favorite number. A twosome isn't ever to be sneezed at, but three, if you know how to work it (a surprisingly large number of guys don't, or don't want to try) is my idea of heaven.

Being ear-fucked is apparently an acquired taste. Some guys I know won't let my tongue neaq their ears. I was pre-programed, apparently. Sends me into spasms.

I am very good about getting my oil changed and getting lubed. I even have a JiffyLube cap. Gives the boys a good chuckle.

Cooper said...

I think you're a genius - that story took so many hilarious random turns, and miraculously came back to all make sense. Thanks for the great story.

p.s. I wish I lived closer to you and b&c, you sound like fun both in and out of the sack. :)