The Pedagogical Imperative

Lately, my CL ads seem to have been attracting a lot of responses from novices. I still get responses from experienced bottoms, but there are more and more inquiries from men in their twenties who are somewhere between "I still live with my girlfriend, and I've never been with a guy, but I really want to" and "I've had sex a few times, but I'm still shy and inexperienced."

Generally, I don't bother with guys like this. Often, they're inexperienced because they're afraid to have sex, so I know up front there's a relatively low likelihood that I'll ever meet them. And while the reaction of someone who hasn't had a lot of sex can be gratifyingly intense, they often have little or no technique, and they tend to cum very quickly. Cumming quickly is fine if they're willing to go for a second and third orgasm, but a lot of times, the drop in intensity after they shoot is enough to allow "what the hell am I doing?" to win out over "I'm so horny!"

Still, when faced with the needs of a youthful soul thirsting for knowledge and stimulation (and maybe some semen), I find it difficult to ignore my responsibility to pass on the benefits of my wisdom to the next generation. Anyway, that's the argument I will likely use on b&c. A number of these younger men, after the initial experience, would like to come back again, and often suggest a threeway with me and my partner. Then I have to tell them that b&c is a bottom, but that maybe they could suck his cock: he's hung, after all. The young'uns usually express some enthusiasm about the prospect. I'm not sure how excited b&c would be, but he was once a university professor, so I think I can tell him that it's his pedagogical imperative to let these boys suck him off. He'll roll his eyes, but he might buy off on it.

Anyway, there's this twenty-something Indian guy who I'd been swapping e-mails with all last week. The battle between eager and timid played itself out from Monday to Friday, when eager finally won.

I usually put in my CL ads that race isn't a factor. That's not precisely true: there are no ethnicities that I won't have sex with, but there are clearly some that make me hornier than others. I generally don't find much truth in behavioral stereotypes, but there are clearly some physical characteristics that are associated with race. Black guys, for example, have nicer lips and larger cocks, on average, than white guys. Anyway. I do tend to like darker skin, I do tend to like full lips, and I do tend to like small, uncut cocks. This makes Indian men the triple threat, so when I have the chance to hook up with one, I usually take it.

Vic is a fairly recent arrival in the U.S. and in the area. He got here around the beginning of the summer after having spent two years in Toronto getting a master's degree. He doesn't drive, and he doesn't really know his way around, so I went and picked him up Friday night. (I'd had plans to play with someone else, but they fell through, so I e-mailed Vic. We'd originally been shooting for something on Saturday, but he was amenable to acceleration.)

We chatted on the drive back, and I squeezed his thigh a few times. Not surprisingly, he was very passive. As soon as we got in the house, I grabbed him and kissed him. He opened his mouth but kept his tongue back. A reticent tongue can be a very good thing, and, in any case, he had full lips that were very soft. But I broke off to take him upstairs almost immediately.

I didn't want to hurry with Vic. It's about twenty minutes from his place to my place, and vice versa. Since I was going to have to take him back, that meant two forty-minute round trips. My rule is that actual play time with a hook up has to last longer than the travel time, so I figured I wanted at least ninety minutes before I was headed back downstairs and out the door. Vic started to get undressed, but I stopped him with my usual, "That's my job."

Sometimes you just want to laugh at the really passive submissives. I pushed Vic down on the bed, and he landed so that he wasn't far enough on to be comfortable, but when I started to make out with him, he wouldn't scoot farther up on the bed until I told him to and then pulled him up. Anyway, I got him fully on the bed, and we continued kissing for a long time. I got a hand up under his shirt and was lightly rubbing my fingertips across his left nipple, which got him excited enough to bring out the tongue. Sparingly.

Guys who haven't had a lot of experience but who are getting exactly what they've fantasized about are easily overwhelmed. It only took Vic a few minutes to get to the point where he was whimpering like someone who couldn't process the stimuli. Excited but wholly inarticulate. That lets me know I'm doing the right thing, and it's very hot. It's also what I heard for any part of the next ninety minutes when I wasn't kissing him. It doesn't get any less hot, no matter how long it goes on.

The whimpering started when I kissed his neck and licked his nipples. I knew that he wanted a more intense experience, but I knew that I needed to work up to it. His nipples had obviously never been worked much: they had a nice diameter, but they didn't protrude at all.

For a long while I switched back and forth. Lips, nips, lips, nips, lips, nips. With a bit of ear thrown in to rev him up even further. Each time I came back to the lips, he'd kiss a bit more passionately. Each time I came back to the nips, I'd work them slightly harder, adding some teeth or going faster with the tongue. After half an hour or so, his whole body was engaged and he was cramming his tongue against mine. Ordinarily, it would have been too much, but I'd worked up to that level, too.

After a while, I rolled him over onto his stomach and lay down on him. I started to kiss the back of his neck, his shoulders, and his ears, and I slid my cock between the tops of his buttocks and then down between his thighs. It was all met by the same whimpering and the same excitement. I flipped him back over and we made out again and then I worked his nipples still harder. Then I rolled on my back and put his knees on either side of my head so that I could give his ass some serious attention.

Either Vic doesn't suck cock at all (possible) or he was so submissive/passive that he was waiting for a sort of it-isn't-going-to-suck-itself direction. But I never do that. Most subs see the cock pointing up and can't resist it. Vic's version of not resisting it was to grab it and stroke it, but not until I'd raised his excitement level even farther by spreading his cheeks and rimming him. He really liked that. And I'll give him credit: he showed no hesitancy about kissing me again after I'd rimmed him for a while. It was an amazingly clean ass, but (yes, I know a single giardia cyst is enough!) a lot of guys still won't kiss after you've eaten their amazingly clean asses. But his excitement continued to grow (measured by the force of his tongue against mine), and he didn't seem like he wanted to say no to anything.

We'd been playing for over an hour when it seemed like a good time to fuck him. I knew that it was going to take a while to get him ready, so I put him back on his stomach, lay on top of him again and bit his shoulders while I rubbed my cock along his crack and then between his thighs again. Then I got some lube and started with the fingers. In a few minutes, I was up to three, and I figured he should be ready for my cock.

So here's the thing. You often think that there's a strong correlation between various body parts, but the correlation isn't perfect. You associate big hands with a big dick, but it's not always true. My paternal grandmother (Stop me if I've said this before; oh wait, you can't! Ha, ha, ha, you've already paid for this: listen to my heartbeat.) once told me that I had built-for-detail (i.e., narrow) fingers on a built-for-strength (i.e., broad) palm. Anyway, I have small fingers, and when the whole evening was done, I decided to measure my fingers compared to my cock. This is easy because a guy I topped a long time ago once pulled out a dollar bill and wrapped it around my cock to see whether I "passed the dollar bill test." A dollar bill is almost exactly six inches long, and this guy claimed that a cock with a circumference of six inches is pretty massive, at least in girth. At the base of my cock -- and pretty much all the way up to the head -- the ends of the dollar bill don't quite meet. The dollar bill easily overlaps when I have three of my fingers together, and it still overlaps at the tips when I have four fingers together. You have to come back towards the palm, where the fingers spread out, before the dollar bill doesn't wrap. So if I'm going to prepare a guy adequately, I really need to use four fingers, and I need to get them an inch or so in.

Oops.

Anyway, after three fingers, I put the condom on (I hate putting the condom on myself. If I'm dealing with an experienced bottom, I hand it to him and make him do it.) and I tried to ease into him. He was still on his stomach, so I could kiss his neck and bite/nibble his shoulders to try to distract him, but I wasn't getting very far. After a while, I put him on his back and scooted him to the edge of the bed so that his ass was even with the edge, pushed his knees towards his chest, and tried to ease into him from a standing position while I pinched his nipples. I got a little farther, but I didn't get anything like inside.

I put him on his stomach again, and I tried to go slower while paying more attention to his neck, shoulders, ears, and mouth (he twisted it around to kiss me -- with lots of tongue). I never really got him to open up, but I got far enough in to kind of fuck him halfway. He seemed to get into it, anyway, and I mostly fuck to get the bottom's reaction to it. Which, again, was pretty intense.

After ten minutes or so, I figured we'd had enough of the attempted fucking, and I put him on his back and we made out while I jerked myself off. Lately, it seems like every time I'm with a guy and finish myself off by hand, it takes more and more effort. It's very pleasant effort, but it's a real work out. Of course, every time, I'm rewarded with a more and more forceful ejaculation, so there's that. When I was done, I put his hand on his cock and started him stroking. I kissed him and pinched his nipples and a few minutes later, he loaded his foreskin with semen.

It had been a real workout, and we were both covered in sweat (we'd been that way for at least an hour: it was very intense). He was too shy to shower with me (he'd made me turn out all the lights early in the session), so I jumped in the shower then dried and got dressed while he showered. Then I drove him home. It was quiet but not awkward.

And then, yes, a cheeseburger. I didn't actually brag to my friends, but only because it was late. He hit all the right notes: dark skin, soft lips, small uncut cock, nipple play that eventually got to level seven, and a session that was over ninety minutes long, door-to-door. Totally three stars.

Vic says he wants to go again, but I'm not sure the logistics will work out. Still, it was awesome. I've had a very fortunate run of late. The work required to get the sex seems somewhat less trivial, but the sex I'm getting has been awfully rewarding. It seems like a fair trade.