Osculation Revisited

I don't think there's anything sexier than two guys kissing. A while ago, I was going to do a post composed of a series of "x is sexier than y" statements, with accompanying pictures, but I quickly determined that it was more effort than it was worth. Still, it made me sit down and think about what sort of thing I find sexiest to look at. I think the bottom line (sorry) was that if a hairy and muscular, reasonably well hung top had just fucked a slim and smooth Asian uncut bottom in a back bedroom at a party, and the two of them had just pulled their jeans back on their otherwise naked bodies and then had shared a last lingering kiss with their eyes closed and their arms around each other as another guest happened by and happened to snap a picture, then that photo would be about the hottest possible image. I didn't find that picture, but any picture of two men enjoying a kiss is worth contemplating.

Monday night, I'd just gotten home from a tough day at work followed by a trip to Costco to acquire the Thanksgiving turkey (12 pounds, never frozen, minimally processed) and some other components for the big Thursday meal. I hadn't gotten much sleep Sunday night, and I had a sinus headache, and I'd sat down in the living room where b&c was reading, and we'd discussed our respective days. Until this fall, EFU had always been over on Monday nights, but now that she's in college, I often get home later (it was 8 by the time I got home Monday) and b&c has usually either made a dinner that can keep cooking or has planned to make a dinner that can be prepared quickly, all in the hope that when I come home, I'll want to have sex. It's a pretty big leap of faith on a Monday, but it usually works out.
This Monday, though, I was clearly giving off a too-tired-and-hurting-to-fuck vibe because after a few minutes of conversation, b&c went to finish dinner. I felt like sinking into the sofa until dinner time, but something in me said, "Oh, what the hell," so I went to the kitchen and put my arms around b&c from behind. He put the lid back on the electric skillet and turned around, and we made out for fifteen minutes. Standing there in the kitchen with the lights on and our eyes closed. It was a simultaneously erotic and centering experience.

I think I've recounted before that when b&c and I met, he was a decidedly poor kisser. At some point early in our relationship, I had to suck it up and tell him that his technique was not good (even for me, this is not an easy conversation to initiate). And then I had to explain to him why it wasn't good. He's since made tremendous progress. I'd say he's gone from about a 2 to a 7: 6 when he's had a cigarette that day; 8 when he hasn't. His tongue is still sometimes not sufficiently relaxed. But a 7 is the best we're going to get, and it's pretty good, and on Monday, he didn't seem to have smoked, so I was beyond happy to stand there and make out. B&c eventually suggested that we go upstairs. I would rather have just gone to the sofa: it was already almost 8:30, and I was really tired, so taking time out for a full session didn't seem like the greatest idea to me. But I also had serious wood, so I went along.

I probably haven't had a chance to mention yet that b&c has only very recently decided that having me chew on the back of his neck and shoulders is exciting rather than regrettable, but he has, and that decision has wrought a marked increase in the amount of fun I have during sex. In any case, after some more kissing and nipple work (there had been a lot of pinching through his t-shirt while we were standing up), I turned him away from me, spooned him, and started to chew on his back and play with his nipples while he jerked himself off. Then I fell asleep (it was after 9) and he went off to finish making dinner. Beef stew. It was very good. We didn't finish eating until almost 10:30, but you can't have everything.