Reclaiming My Youth

    Last week I did something I haven’t done in many years, and something even then I hadn’t done regularly since I was a teenager. I didn’t do it as well. I didn’t do it as completely. I didn’t do even finish it properly. But was one of the most weirdly motivating excuses I’ve found to get in better shape in a long time, as absolutely ridiculous as it sounds and feels.

    Let’s jump back a bit:

    When I was a loner teenager alone in his room every night browsing the Internet and jerking off to slow-loading newsgroup porn, I heard tale of this surely apocryphal story of a guy who kept complaining to his girlfriend about her not swallowing his cum after a blow job. She complained that it tasted gross and didn’t want to, and he just kept begging. Finally one day she made him a deal: if she could snowball his load back into his mouth and he swallowed it, she’d swallow all his cum for a month. If not, he’d shut up about it. He agreed, she gave him a great blow job, he unloaded in her mouth, she kissed him and unloaded it right back into him, and he promptly threw up and shut up.

    Meanwhile another dream of every teenage guy, and many adults, is to be able to suck his own dick. Endless jokes of “I’d never leave the house” and “who needs a girl?” were paraded around based on this idea. But of course nobody with less than a footlong cock can do that, right? Of course, as I proved to myself on multiple different attempts.

    Until, that is, one fateful night where, for some reason unknown to me, I decided to try just a little harder. I realized that I actually really needed only a few inches. I wasn’t that far off. Granted, a few inches is really a lot, but I thought that just maybe it might be possible if I tried harder. So I did a bunch of sit-ups and stretches and tried again. And I got closer. And I did some more. And got closer.

    After enough stretches, and an awkward position, and a flaccid cock stretched in one hand to its limits, I touched the tip of my cock with my tongue. The promised land had been reached, barely.

    Over time (I don’t recall how successful I was the first night, so it might have been in subsequent efforts) I slowly managed to actually lick a portion of the head of my cock. And then, eventually, I was able to touch it to my bottom lip. And then my TOP lip. And then, the most symbolically impressive: both lips.

    At that point I was literally pursing my lips around the tip of my cock, as though awkwardly waiting for the prize.

    It was sometime shortly past that, when combined with sitting on the edge of my bed, with one hand under my ass providing push from below, and one hand gripping the shaft, that I was able to get enough of the head of my cock into my mouth to think about the obvious next step. Could I jerk off like that?

    Thinking back to the original urban legend, I realized that beyond the obvious implications of it feeling pretty good to have my lips around my cock while I jerked, I could also put myself to the test. Could I handle it? Would I throw up if faced with the taste, or could I learn to palate it, and, in the process, ensure I could win any such bet I might ever be faced with with a future partner?

    I doubt it took me long to decide. It probably took even less time to actually jerk myself to completion. The physical sensation, combined with the mental thought process behind what I was doing, got me off faster than any porn I had, and soon, lips pursed tightly around the tip of my cock, I was unloading into my own mouth.

    I had agreed with myself already that, no matter what, I would do anything I could to swallow it all. It turned out, much to my surprise, that it wasn’t actually challenging to do so. After years of hearing how awful it tasted, I was pleasantly surprised to find it completely tolerable. No, it wasn’t remotely TASTY, but if anything it was utterly neutral. Acceptable. I swallowed the entire load without trouble.

    Over time this became common for me. I HATED the idea of coming in socks or anything my mother would wash and figure out, and I ran out of tissues, so about the only way to masturbate in my room without any place to dispose of the cum was to swallow it. And since I didn’t mind doing so, I did so a LOT. I have no way of guessing how many of my loads I swallowed, but it had to be dozens.

    I made progress on how much of my dick I could get in my mouth, too. By the end, I usually had most of the head in my mouth when I came, but I could do far more when I had both hands free to create upward pressure with, and I’d leave bite marks as a visual metric. My best ever was a little over HALF of my 6-3/4″ (erect) cock. I was pretty proud, in my perverted way.

    In time, I moved away from that. For one, it hurt my back. It was also a lot of work. And I got a girlfriend I could come inside instead, and moved out on my own and could use tissues and toilet paper. But every once in a while, when I was fully alone, I’d do it again, just to remind myself I could.

    Age, lack of exercise, and a belly slowly took that from me entirely.

    Until last week, as I’m stuck living alone again, only seeing my girlfriend for sex once a week IF I’m that lucky, when I decided to lie down on my nice new carpeted bedroom floor, do some sit-ups, and see what I could manage.

    And sure enough, with enough effort, I eventually licked my own cock.

    I didn’t get much better than that. I eventually switched to an old cop-out technique of lying on the bed with my head on the pillow and then rolling myself up over my head, bracing against the wall, and letting gravity do the work to get my lips around the tip before I went in for the completion. I succeeded, but as I wasn’t limber enough, and the position was too awkward, I couldn’t get more than the first spurt in my mouth before I mostly came on my chin and chest, which is a mess I didn’t really want. Still, it was a partial success.

    So now my goal is to work on it every night I can. Sit-ups, stretches, and find just how much I can get in my mouth. I doubt I’ll suck myself off every time (hard to look at porn that way), but especially as I make progress, I probably will. Just a little bit of reclaimed youth in my own, special, perverted way.

    Dangerous Secret

    I love blow jobs. Let’s just get that out of the way and make sure it’s clearly in the air. Getting my cock sucked and licked and jerked until I ejaculate in her mouth is one of my favorite things.

    But... I’d still probably rather have a pussy shoved in my face and eat it ‘til she comes with my lips tightly encircling as much of it is possible.

    I think, hard as such a decision might be if ever faced with it, I’d pick giving over receiving if I could have only one for the rest of my life.

    But for now, there’s 69, which beats everything, hands down. I’m happy I live in a world where I have that.

    Collared

    This is a true story of my time with my girlfriend last week. Dialog isn’t verbatim, and details have been cleaned up for more interesting reading, but the events are accurate.

    *****

    “Put on your collar,” I told her.

    She slipped out of the room and returned after a minute with her black collar encircling her neck and the padlock dangling from the back. She waited.

    I sat in my office chair, unzipped my nice work pants, and pulled out my cock.

    “Start sucking and I’ll tell you the plan.”

    She did as told without hesitation, finding a comfortable position and taking me fully into her welcoming mouth.

    I watched and soaked in the sensations of her tongue. In recent times she's gotten better at massaging the base of my cock with it while she has me engulfed. It's a subtle, but powerful sensation that's hard not to get lost in.

    It soon became apparent that she was waiting for something. My promise to tell her my plans. I decided to wait a little longer, both to savor her oral skills and to keep her off balance. But finally, I gave in.

    "You remember what the collar symbolizes, don't you?" I asked.

    *****

    We have an agreement about the collar. Besides merely indicating my dominance when it’s worn, it’s also been made clear that it symbolizes my pleasure above all else. When she wears it, the only orgasm that’s guaranteed is mine. If she does come, she does so with my permission or, lacking that, penalty. It's part of our dominance/submission play, because quite honestly I'm usually more focused on her orgasm than my own, honestly. The collar gives me the power and permission, within the structure of our play, to be selfish. And the rules ensure that even when her orgasm is part of the plan, I get something special I want in exchange.

    An orgasm for her, while collared, is granted in one of two ways:

    1. She may request it. She must do so before she comes, at any point during our play, and I may decline, at which point my decision is final. If I grant her permission to come, she must pay a price in exchange. Usually she’s expected to make me an offer which I will consider, and negotiate, before deciding if it’s satisfactory. At other times I will simply dictate the terms on my own. If we don’t agree to the requirements, she goes unsatisfied.

    2. I will offer her an orgasm on my own, either out of generosity or as a component of whatever plans I already had for our fun. Just as when requested by her, this will also come with stipulations that must be agreed to. No agreement, no orgasm.

    Depending on the terms of the agreement, she will then be required to carry out some or all of her part before she’s allowed to come, or, if applicable, she’ll be required to carry out the rest of her requirements after she comes before her collar will be removed.

    The alternative, of course, is for her to not ask my permission before she comes. This results in a penalty for which she has no negotiating power. I dictate the terms, and she carries them out before her collar will be unlocked.

    *****

    She nodded to indicate her understanding of the collar's meaning while carefully maintaining her focus on my cock.

    "Good," I replied. "So here's how this is going to play out. First, you're going to suck my cock dry."

    I felt a minor hesitation in her movements, as she accepted what was said. I can only assume she thought this meant no orgasm for her, since generally when I'm done, I'm done.

    "But you'll still have the opportunity to come tonight," I continued. "See, once I come in your mouth you'll be allowed to come. But only if you can get me up again, and only with me inside you."

    I waited for a response, but took her continued efforts as indication that she was with me.

    "If you do come, your collar won't be removed until I've come again, whether I come with you while we fuck, or you have to get me off another way. As long as it takes."

    I paused again, but got nothing more than a continued commitment to my cock.

    "Do you understand and accept my terms?"

    There was a pause as she considered. And then, another subtle nod around my cock.

    "That's good," I said with a smile. "But there's one more thing..."

    *****

    When we first met, and first began talking about sex, I told her one of my rules about blow jobs:

    If you're not going to swallow, then at least make a mess.

    I hate spitters. I find it disrespectful and dismissive in that moment. It makes me feel like she can't wait to forget what she just did for me, and makes me feel about having had it done. Like it was a real sacrifice.

    All things being equal, I prefer my cum swallowed. It's neat and tidy, and the mental imagery of it is intensely hot. The acceptance of it. The thought of my cum entering and staying inside her, to a degree that's not even possible with other penetrative locations, remaining in my absence... There's a dominance to that that's unexplainable. In addition, I'm not dumb. I know it doesn't taste GOOD. It's not as bad as most people make it out, but it's not like she's swallowing because she loves it. But swallowing despite that really drives home her commitment, and that's an incredible turn-on.

    But I'm flexible. I know sometimes that's just too much for some women. Or sometimes the mood isn't right. Or sometimes I may just not taste my best. And so, the alternative to swallowing, to me, isn't finding a sink or toilet or tissue to spit my load into like some unwanted side effect, but to have fun with it as part of the experience. Let it go everywhere. Let it make a mess. Let it pour down the head and shaft of my cock, or down your chin, all over your face, your tita. Rub it into your or my skin. Play with it. Have fun.

    My girlfriend relies pretty much exclusively on the latter technique. She swallowed occasionally in the early days, but eventually admitted she just didn't like the taste usually and preferred not to. While it may not be my ultimate preference, she follows my rule perfectly and after her fantastic blow jobs, she makes a spectacular mess, and plays with me for quite some time after. That's our standard.

    *****

    I felt her hesitate again, waiting to hear the additional rule.

    "As you can see," I explained, "I'm wearing my nice work pants, and they're the only clean pair I have. So today, you're not allowed to make a mess. If you do, you don't get to come. Understand?"

    She nodded again, after a brief moment.

    "Do you have any objections to my rules?"

    She shook her head to indicate a no.

    I'll skip some boring details. She did ask for permission to try some flavor strips we bought for this purpose but had never used, and I agreed. I didn't mind her cheating a little. Turned out the flavor strips stuck to her mouth weirdly and tasted awful. She later admitted that they did help make me taste better, just not in the way we intended. And yes, she sucked me to completion and swallowed virtually everything. She got a little on her hand, but I decided not to give her too much trouble. And as she always does, because she knows I love it, she sucked me all the way down before going to clean up.

    Then we watched some TV. I told her she could take her time, and we did. But by the time the show was over, I knew I wasn't going to have any trouble helping her meet her obligations, and within minutes I was inside her, fucking her 'til she came.

    We usually come together, but I was sore and on reduced speed from my earlier orgasm, so wasn't read when she finally contracted around me. But feeling generous again, I continued for another couple of minutes on my own and finally rolled myself over the edge into one of the most intense orgasms I'd had in a while.

    A few minutes later I unlocked her before we lay together and enjoyed the rest of our night.

    The Tiny Silver Lining of Living Alone Again

    Due to some personal family responsibilities, I've recently had to move out of the home I've shared with my girlfriend of several years. While not living truly alone, I share a bed and bedroom with no one, and I have limited access to my girlfriend now. This sucks for every possible obvious reason. I've found one upside so far, after some digging: I can jerk off any time I damn well please again. Don't get me wrong. My girlfriend never gave me any negativity about masturbating, and outside of playing along with my chastity kink, she's never prevented it. Heck, I'd probably get a kick out of her doing so in some way. But no, she's never consciously stood in the way. But the thing is, as a guy, you have to be careful when and how often you masturbate. Most of us aren't multi-orgasmic, and once we get off, it can be a long time before we're ready again, especially with a well-established partner. While there have been times I was ready again ten minutes later, there have been days where eight hours later I'm just not that horny. In addition to that, I'm often very sore after orgasm for many hours, damaging any later experiences. So over all, unless my girlfriend's on her period or in some other way known unavailable to me, most days as we get past noon, I'm better off skipping any self love in hopes of the shared kind. Even if more often than not nothing happens, I'd shoot myself the time I jerked off and got seduced 30 minutes later. Living alone again, though, one of the first things I bought at the store was a multi-pack of tissues. One next to the bed, one at my desk. Combined with my sizable toy collection, I can jerk myself to sleep every night without the slightest risk of guilt or missed opportunities. And that's how I console myself over the lack of a warm, feminine body sharing my bed every night, and a warm, moist vagina to come inside. Small comforts.

    Yoga Pants

    I hear a lot of controversy, especially in schools, around yoga pants and how “distracting” they are. Never quite understood this, nor do I really understand why it’s the girls’ problem to not dress comfortably just to distract boys less.

    And yet, last night at a class of my own, one of the women showed up wearing yoga pants that finally clued me in just a little:

    With the exception, I suppose, of her slit, her yoga pants hugged her body so tightly that the entire shape of her pussy was as visible as possible. Between her legs, which had pretty decent thigh gap, was a perfectly-formed pubic mound of fabric that basically just screamed, “this is almost exactly what my pussy looks like. Please enjoy it.”

    Now let me be clear: she has every damn right to wear that. Everything was still covered. And guys get away with this in crazy ways with things like bicycle shorts that also leave NOTHING to the imagination. And if I was so distracted I couldn’t learn, that’s really on MY lack of focus. And really, I had no actual problem focusing. Sure, when I didn’t need to, I definitely took in an eyeful at every opportunity, and I thank her deeply for providing me that opportunity. But I did my best to do so without being obvious, without ever causing her discomfort, and without making her choice of clothes a problem.

    So, at the end of the day, certain yoga pants CAN be pretty revealing, but women can wear them as much as they damn well please and if I can’t cope with it, that’s my problem. But I welcome the challenge. Bring on the yoga pants.

    Hand Jobs and Frickin’ Laser Beams

    Today I had a complete stranger take a laser to my cock, balls, and asshole. But first I got a hand job.

    So here’s the deal: I don’t like hairy genitals. If you read my blog regularly, you know this. I prefer my pussies mostly shaven (although, depending upon the pussy, a decorative patch on the pubic mound is great), and I think a hairy cock is just no fun for anyone. I’ve personally shaved my junk FULLY on occasion, but I usually leave at least a large patch above my patch, if not getting lazy and letting it grow in.

    My girlfriend prefers SOME hair. Also, she’s ultra sensitive, so my hair growing back in hurts her a lot. She’s asked me not to shave.

    For my birthday this year, she started laser hair removal treatments on her pussy. While she definitely prefers SOME hair, she never cared either way about hairy lips. Since I do, she decided to handle the situation permanently and save herself some trouble.

    Faced with my own dilemma, I decided it was time to permanently remove the hair from every bit of me that I hope to have a tongue touch. So shaft, scrotum, taint, and anus. I’ve still never received a rim job, but I’m not giving up hope.

    So this morning, before I got ready for my appointment, I mentioned to my girlfriend that I’d need to jack off before I applied the lidocaine lotion to my junk (which is its own highly unique experience) in order to help prevent any awkward reactions when a strange woman played with my cock and balls later.

    Next thing I know, my girlfriend’s doing the work for me, and I started my day off right blasting my load all over her hand and my belly.

    After that I applied the lotion, Saran-wrapped myself (seriously... weird stuff), and headed off to the clinic.

    The nurse I got was very friendly, very direct, and very business-like. After all the paperwork was done and questions answered, I stripped, wiped off the lotion, hopped up on the table, and within moments her gloved hands were moving my junk around as she examined the area and confirmed what I wanted. Next, a large wand attached to a giant machine was placed against my skin, and with a singing smell whenever she came into contact with hair, and a stinging sensation against my skin, she was off.

    Didn’t take long. She worked around the area first, and a little into my crack, then lasered my entire scrotum quite efficiently, then manipulated my cock and lasered the whole shaft. All while chatting with me about my family life. Even if it hadn’t been incredibly clinical and non-sexual (so weird to have an attractive woman playing with my cock and it NOT be sexual), there was barely enough time for me to have gotten hard even if I hadn’t gotten that taken care of earlier.

    Next I was rolled onto my side, pulled my ass cheeks apart, and she lasered my anus and surrounding areas.

    And we were done.

    And I have to do this every six weeks. I sure hope my girlfriend’s up for her part of the equation.

    I wish I was horny

    Having a rough day. Stressful, emotional shit. Right now I really wish I could jack off. But I’m not horny. Tumblr’s not helping. An endless sea of pussy and tits and ass and blow jobs and cum shots and anal sex and threesomes and gorgeous women staring into my eyes.

    Nothing.

    Forever Yours

    “Oh God,” she whispered inches from my face as her eyes widened. “I think he’s starting to come in my ass!”

    Once she said it, I could feel it myself, through the thin wall that separated her pussy from her ass. I could feel his rhythm shift and settle, and a pulsing sensation spread around my shaft.

    “There it is,” she said with a gasp, staring me straight in the eyes. “I can feel every spurt. I can’t usually feel it like this. Oh my God, I’m coming too...”

    Her eyes closed, and her body began to spasm on top of me, immediately obscuring any further sense of his ejaculation as she began constricting tightly around my cock. So tightly that it took all my willpower not to come too.

    Finally, with time, her raucous orgasm subsided, and I could feel the extra weight of her FWB buddy indicating that his had too. We all just lay there for a few moments, panting, before I finally felt him shift, and the pressure around my cock release slightly as he pulled out.

    “It’s so squishy,” she whispered with a giggle as I heard the bathroom door shut as her friend went to clean up. “I’m not sure my ass has ever taken a load that big.”

    I just looked into her eyes, without saying a word.

    “You came too, right?” She asked me, wiggling herself around on my cock slightly, as though trying to check. “I was coming so hard I didn’t notice.”

    “No,” I replied, simply.

    She seemed worried. “Why not?”

    “This is why,” I said as I quickly, smoothly, slid my rock-hard cock out of her well-lubed pussy and instantly slammed it fully, balls-deep, into her cum-lubed ass.

    She gasped loudly.

    “What are you...?” she trailed off as I flipped her over without pulling out and began to pound her ass.

    “I know I said I was going to be fine letting your little fuck buddy finally have your ass as long as I got your pussy,” I said through my gritted teeth. “And I was. It was great. But when I saw the look in your eyes as he filled you, and felt him ejaculate inside you, and realized that that ass of yours really belongs to me, I couldn’t settle for just coming in your pussy.”

    The cum he’d left behind made my pace extremely easy. Even so, I could tell she was being pushed to her limits. But I was determined to keep going.

    "So I’m going to make sure that when we’re done here tonight, you remember exactly whose cock and cum belong in your ass. I’m going to fuck every last memory of him out of your ass and reclaim it as mine.”

    I increased my pace even more, and her eyes rolled back in her head. I could tell she was starting to really feel it, and her body was battling between discomfort and the orgasm welling up from deep within her.

    The friction was slowly increasing too, as I burned through her friend’s thick load, reducing my speed, and upping tension.

    “Oh God,” she moaned, breathlessly, with her eyes closed, “I don’t know if I can take much more. But I think I’m going to come. Please, just a little bit more and then come with me. I... I can’t take...”

    Finally she cried out with what was instantly her loudest orgasm of the night. Her ass clamped tight around my shaft, and her legs around my ass, and my cock could no longer move. I had thrust room left, but I had finally used up every remaining drop of his load. I thrust hard, not sliding even a hair, but letting the tight ring of her ass massage my shaft through my outer layer of skin. 

    And with that, my orgasm let loose. I felt blast after blast of cum force its way up my shaft, past her tight sphincter, and deep into her insides where the tight pressure of her rectum forced my cum right back around me. Through her orgasm, I could see her eyes widen as she felt it, just as strongly as she had with her friend, if not more. Each pulse eliciting its own reaction from her. And with each pulse, my cock loosened inside her just a little more as it relubed her overworked hole.

    Once I was finally done, my cock could slide easily within her again, which I used to bury it fully and collapse on top of her.

    “You’re right,” she whispered in my ear. “This ass is forever yours.”

    Why Do We Still Have Black Porn?

    I wish we could have more porn featuring black people without the porn being ABOUT the fact that they’re black. I suppose the same goes for Asian women or Latinas, but I feel like for the most part they’re allowed to blend into any cast of female partners, and many of the lighter-skinned or more Caucasian-like black women as well. But if you’re basically ANY shade of black man, or especially fit Caucasian’s picture of what a BLACK woman is, then whatever porn you’re in is going to prominently feature and trumpet that fact, from the name, to the cover, to all the buzzwords, and maybe right down to the studio producing it. It’s no longer porn, it’s BLACK porn.

    Maybe it just comes down to the general backwater that porn’s been forced into which keeps it from being at a normal level of societal progress, but with as much as society’s improved on race (which is still not remotely enough, granted), porn is still convinced that “black” is a fetish. I’m not happy with that. It’s 2015. When I see a couple on the street who are black, they’re not a BLACK couple to me. When I see an interracial couple, my brain’s not screaming about the fact that they’re interracial. I know for many it still does, but we’re supposed to be past that. Why can’t porn get past it too? Why does every truly black person in a porn film have to get treated like a special feature (or maybe a warning?), as opposed to just a person fucking on camera?

    This bugs me, and it damages my enjoyment of some of the porn I find. I’m not allowed to just see the people in it as two humans fucking. Nope, one or more of them are called out as different. Maybe better, maybe worse, maybe just other. But it’s thrown in my face that they’re NOT NORMAL. Fuck that. They are. The black guy fucking the white girl is still just a guy fucking a girl. I can tell he’s black. I don’t need the title in the corner to tell me, I don’t need the guy regularly reminding the girl about that this white chick’s about to get fucked by a big black man, I don’t need the girl constantly begging for him to show her what a real big black cock is like. Just fuck. Like two humans. Like nearly every real two humans, one of whom happens to be black.

    Let’s have some fucking progress here, people.

    dirtyberd

    Why is no one disgusted by pet names other than Daddy? Nobody is saying someone who calls their partner Kitten wants to fuck a cat. I have a friend who calls his man “Bear,” but I very much doubt he would solicit an actual bear for intercourse. “Baby” represents sweetness and innocence, “Bunny” is about cuteness. And “Daddy” is about feeling protected. It’s not that literal, please relax.

    naked-yogi

    literally no one ever talks shit about anyone calling their SO “babe” or “baby”

    if you call your SO “babe” or “baby” I highly fucking doubt you would fuck an infant

    kittenboot

    I just dont want to visualize fucking my father is it really that weird to dislike the pet name daddy?!

    naked-yogi

    You just missed the entire point of this post though.

    ostentatiousnarcissism

    Also who over the age of 5 calls their father, ‘daddy’? You wouldn’t refer to your 31 year old daughter as a baby. It’s the same thing. If someone’s sex life is not hurting anyone and doesn’t effect you in anyway calm the fuck down and fuck off

    naked-yogi

    Lots of people over the age of 5 call their father daddy lol

    covertlyaroused

    My mother called her father “daddy” til he died, in his 90s. Meanwhile I’ve never called my child “babe” or “baby.” Those are descriptions of a generic child, not a standard title, nickname, or petname used by most people between blood or adopted relatives. So I don’t think “babe/baby” is in any way similar or comparable to “daddy.”

    “Daddy” is very specifically a term used for one’s direct parent, which is why I think people do find it creepy, because the majority of us know the term to mean only ONE very specific person, and one that biologically we’re all inclined not to find attractive. I know I, personally, couldn’t possibly call my female partner “mommy” and still enjoy sex with them. This is why I think a pretty darn large number of people have issue with the word.

    While I also, personally, have that adverse reaction to its use, as a member of the kink community, I really can’t bring myself to care at all what others use. I certainly wouldn’t step up to tell anyone using the term to stop, or even THAT I found it creepy. I’ve always kept my mouth shut about it for exactly that reason: it’s none of my damn business what you call your partner. Only speaking up here because I felt a couple of points needed to be corrected/disagreed with here. But you do you. Hopefully we can get the people who are bothered by it, for reasons that are totally legitimate to themselves, to recognize that their internal feelings have no place being put upon anyone else.