[Note: I originally wrote 90% of this entry a long time -- like nine months -- ago. I don't remember exactly why I didn't post it, except that I was probably trying to bring the ending back around to the original topic. Well, fuck that: if I've learned anything in my time on the planet, it's that tidy endings are almost always artificial. Anyway, I was going through and deleting two or three drafts that were clearly not going to become posts (like my final post about my trip to Italy, where I equate Venice and Disneyworld), and I found this one, and I thought I'd go ahead and throw it up. I apologize if I repeated any of this material anywhere else, but sometimes I like the sound of my own words too much to delete them. Talk about bad habits.]
Simultaneous orgasm is the ne plus ultra of man-on-man sex. If you can work it so that you and your companion climax at the same time, neither of you is in the awkward position of waiting for the other to get it over with already. There is afterglow, of course, but it tends to last not so long in most men, and if you don't manage to spill your seed within the thirty seconds or so after your buddy has spilled his own, he has to lie there and pretend that you getting off is the most interesting thing in the universe when all he's really thinking about is whether he's going to be able to get that stain out. (Yet another reason to take OxyClean wherever you go.)
In porn stories (as opposed to porno videos, where you never want simultaneous orgasm because you want the ratio of cum shot time to total video time to be as high as possible) , when the bottom orgasms, his sphincter clamps down so hard as to rip a load out of the top. And I'm told that some men in long-term relationships learn to cum together: the top learns to read the signs and holds off until the time is ripe. Naturally, this only works if you're dealing with a bottom who can be driven over the edge by prostate stimulation (often coupled with other forms of stimulation). Lots of men who love above all else forging an intimate acquaintance with their own ankles nonetheless go soft when they're plugged.
Certainly in my experience, simultaneous orgasm is a rare thing. My friend JP will cum from me fucking him, and sometimes I've managed to cum at the same time. And I recall a particularly delicious hook up with a French attorney at the World Bank who -- after a lengthy fuck -- spent half an hour sucking my cock and came when he got my load. Of course, I didn't realize that until he told me a minute later. I wasn't paying much attention to him since I was on my back with my lower legs over the end of the bed, and he was on his knees on the floor.
Non-simultaneous orgasms have their advantages, too. And I don't just mean that you get more money shot time in your pornos that way. When you're cumming, you're -- justifiably -- self-absorbed, and you don't get a good look at the other guy's orgasms. And orgasms are fascinating, wonderful things.
Most often, I cum last. (B&c is the exception. I generally cum inside him and then play with his nipples while he finishes himself off.) It is always preferable to be the guy who's still playing with himself or still hard and pumping. You would think that since the other guy generally cums first, I'd be too busy enjoying myself to pay much attention to his orgasm, but I'm rarely so overcome with passion (alas) that I can't concentrate on the other guy. And what I've noticed is that other men seem to cum harder than I do.
I'm not referring to the force of the ejaculation itself here. I almost always shoot harder and farther (and with greater volume) than the guy I'm playing with. But while an orgasm to me is a good and intense thing, I rarely, if ever, have that this-may-be-more-than-I-can-handle pained look that I see on the faces of so many other guys when they're shooting. Or about to shoot. Nor do I shout, scream, yell, holler, or otherwise raise my voice as orgasm approaches. I will, however, freely admit that I find it very hot when the other guy makes a lot of noise.
I find that the best way to get a really good, semi-clinical look at a guy on his way to orgasm is to give an erotic massage. Just before b&c returned from Jordan, I had my regular massage buddy B. over for an hour on the table. Every time I give B. a massage, he cums harder than the time before, and it's always a fascinating thing to watch because the more intense an erotic sensation is, the more B. embraces it. If he's just shot his load, and I'm still handling his cock, he'll thrash and shout, but he won't try to push my hand away, the way a lot of guys do after they cum. He just rides the wave.
It's a pretty big wave, too. Our massages always follow a similar outline, but they evolve. I decided to forgo the Bach for once and I switched over to Nanci Griffith's Other Voices, Too. For some reason, that music helped me go deeper. I was deeper into his shoulder muscles, deeper into his legs, and when I got around to the prostate massage, I was deeper and more thorough. It continually amazes me what a single finger manipulating the prostate can do. Such a small stimulus with such a large response. My body remains calm and mostly still. I let my left hand rest on the small of his back and my right middle finger moves only enough to skirt the prostate. But it first deepens his breathing, then causes him to moan, and finally makes his entire body undulate. And I feel a tremendous flow of energy down my arm and out into his body. It's somehow not really sexual; it's just powerful.
Of course, when I flip B. over onto his back, it does, eventually, become sexual. He's in this state of heightened energy, and I begin with a lengthy massage of his jawline, temples, and face. This technique never fails to relax a guy, and on the heels of such heavy stimulation, the relaxation becomes elation. It's both the calm before the storm and a precursor to afterglow. In any case, it's a real pleasure to watch his face during this part of the massage. But not such a pleasure that I don't move on to the nipples and the penultimate goal (the ultimate goal being the fully relaxed afterglow) of the massage. B.'s chest is a lot of fun to play with. It's toned but not overly hard, and the sheer breadth of his torso means that there's a lot to do there. I get the nipples going a bit, and then I move on to the anterior pelvis. Stimulate, relax, stimulate, relax, stimulate, relax: I usually brush his cock a little bit before moving to one of his shoulders and then all the way along the length of arm until I'm holding and massaging his hand, which always produces more of that blissed out expression. After doing the same to his other arm, where I'll linger even a bit longer over his hand, I'm quickly onto the fronts of his thighs. There is never as much to do on the fronts of the legs as on the back, so it's never long then until I'm giving the cock the attention it deserves.
Over time, it's come to take longer for B. to give up his load, and that's cool with me because the longer I work him, the more excited and vocal and tight he gets. That part is mostly a function of time so that he now gets a lot more out of control before he cums than he used to. This time it takes a very long stroke, combined with some relatively insistent prostate massage to make him shoot, and he's very nearly screaming. When he does finally cum, it's with great force, and I continue to hold his cock with one hand while the other rests gently on his chest. I give him a minute to bask in the sensation, then wipe him up and flip him back on his stomach to briefly but thoroughly reintroduce full relaxation to his shoulders, thighs, and ass. If I had a comforter, I think I could put it on him and he'd fall asleep right there.