Remarkable

Dave and Dan are friends who throw the most *spectacular* parties. They've got a fantastic back yard; they've got a lovely house; they've got a wonderful pool. They've also got a dimly-lit sex garage with a lazy Susan, a St. Andrew's cross for flogging and whipping, a padded area for anyone who needs to kneel, and a sling with an amazing spring suspension. This was one of THOSE kind of parties. It started out naked -  did you know that July 14th is National Nude Day? Apparently it is, and we celebrated in appropriate style. 

Because we both had work, Husband and I both got there after things were already well underway. The party officially started right after the time we get off work, but we had to take the Long Shower (remember boys, hose out your butthole if you think you might want to let anybody play back there - and DAMN, I'm glad I did!) and get ready, and head across town to get naked. When we get there, we know a lot of people; there are also a bunch of guys we know only in passing, and some complete strangers. It's a hot crowd. 

BOLDER. A friend of mine named Bolder - a boy that my Husband and I played with together in the distant past - is here, and I know he loves to get spanks. He's got bright white skin, and I know that my handprint will show up brilliantly on his pert round ass. I ask permission, and I lay a STRONG handprint on his left butt cheek. The slap rings out like a bell; it sounds like I used a paddle. Heads turn. One of our hosts walks by, and notes that future intense spankings should take place in the garage; duly chastened, we laugh and continue our conversation. I'm explaining to a friend of Bolder's (a new friend, actually - and he shows up again later in the evening; let's call him Rick) how the single smack is really more startling than painful - and how it feels like a connection, almost magnetic, between Bolder's ass and my spanking hand. I realize how much I want to share this on the blog, and I ask for permission (because, again, CONSENT, fuckers!) and I go get my camera, and record a bit of narration explaining this. Except, I didn't press the button right - so it didn't record. Instead, I turned the camera ON when I thought I was turning it OFF at the end, and realized it - so you get to see the funny out-take of me realizing that nothing I'd just said had been recorded, and then you get to see the second round of explanation. It feels really awkward to re-record a spontaneous spoken paragraph, but hey, I'm giving a narrated account about spanking ass at a gay pool party orgy - and awkward is my personal wheelhouse. It is, as the kids say, my JAM. Now, keep in mind... I had already started to explain this, realized that I wanted a recording of the explanation, gone and gotten my camera while my conversational partners waited patiently, and re-explained for the camera, without the camera being on. Yeah. I'm THAT good. 

MARK. I've had a little collegial crush on Mark for years. He used to work upstairs at the building where I work, and I've always thought he was hot, and nothing came of it for a variety of reasons. At first, I wasn't even sure he was gay. I ran into him late in the evening at one of these events, and we delivered a little masterclass on deepthroat for a small but appreciative audience. This time - I ran into him, and thrust my cock into him, again and again over the course of the evening. It made for a fun and interesting recurring theme, kind of like a motif in a music hall show. We talk about how he's recently recovered from COVID, and how my advice on retraining his sense of smell (starting with strong, intense aromas and trying to focus on memories of how they smell and memories they trigger; bleach, vanilla, vinegar, oregano, coffee... ) had helped him. However, he says one of the medications they gave him seems to have knocked out his natural skin bacteria, because he himself has almost no scent; it was weird, and he at first wondered if he was just unable to smell his own scent, but he had asked his roommate, who confirmed that he was now new and unscented. I smell him, and agree - he smells like soap, a little, but none of the musky smell of BO that I love. I tell him that I've got a good strong microbiome, and I'm happy to share - I rub my hands under my arms and then under his, transferring scent and bacteria; then I proceed to rub his face, his beard, and his short-buzzed head under my arms, so that he smells like me all over. He can smell MY smell just fine, so it's not a matter of being unable to smell musk. We both agree this is much better; he smells like a ferret now. I tell him that it may take repeated transfers to get it to take, but I'm willing to let him root around in my armpits as needed. Maybe I'll save him a couple of worn undershirts; they store my smell really well, so they've got to have the bacteria that make up my personal house blend. I know it's a little drinking-one's-own-bathwater, but sometimes I sniff them when I jerk off. I like the way I smell. I especially like it on the faces of other men. 

BILL. Bill, a friend of mine and my Husband's, heard the spank earlier and wants one for himself. He and I go to the garage as directed so as not to terrorize the other guests, because it's still early. I lean him over the lazy Susan and give him a good one on his right ass cheek. After checking in, I give him another one on the left. We go outside and walk around and take some pictures. I ask if he wants more; he does, so we go back inside and I give him some more, and I take a little video of the process. I explain as I'm hitting him, how the additional spanks don't line up; they still make definitely hand-shaped marks, and it will be clear that he was spanked with a hand, and clearly MY hand at that, but once they blur, it's not the single handprint that I have the fetish for. A lot of guys think that when they see those handprints, that each one is multiple spanks to get them so bright - but there's no way to get the registration to be that clean. Each one has to be a single clear, hard, precise smack. It has to be TECHNIQUE. You feel the shape of the ass (or other body part) you're striking, and you cup your hand accordingly; then you swing from the shoulder and relax the fingers so that they flow THROUGH the flesh kind of like how a karate chop is visualized. Ideally, I want to see the bones in every one of my fingers; I'm pleased if I can get the bones visible in at least four of my fingers, the pinkie is a tough customer because of the way it's angled. 

RANDALL. Jane (OK, it's James, now - he's redeemed himself, and we've had a really good and honest conversation about this whole thing) is here, with a new HOT man. Everybody is sniffing around Randall; he's tall, with a muscled lean build, a handsome face, and a stunning beard. Randall has on a chainmail necklace closed with a padlock; James has on a matching necklace with a key. If they weren't both sexy and sweet guys, it would be more annoying than it is. James leads Randall everywhere by the hand, but he's led him into the sex garage, and he's parading him around like he's showing the tigers the meat before he does the evening feeding. It does not appear that James is going to keep Randall all to himself; James has brought Randall here to ensure that he has an Experience. There is some clear jockeying for pole position; guys start metaphorically and also literally slapping their dicks in their palms. I don't know why, aside from the necklace and the way James is shepherding him around like a pet lamb, but I decide that big manly Randall is a bottom, or at least  that he is going to be MY bottom for a while. Sometimes I decide to skip the lines on this kind of game where everybody crowds around and tries to see who wins, and I just walk up to where they're standing and put my paws on Randall. Fortunately for me, it seems to work tonight, and he smiles and we're off. Randall is just as hot to touch, as he is to look at. He lets me do pretty much everything that I think of to do - I kneel him down and fuck him in the mouth and then deep into the throat until he chokes and splutters; I stand him back up and spank him until his beautiful round ass is a sweet shade of cherry pink while fucking it hard and fast, then slow and grinding, putting him through speeds one after another like a blender. Through all of this, James is standing and stroking him and talking with him, and my Husband is giving James pointers on how to help Randall handle me. It was the kind of weird but loving moment that only happens in this community - "You just have to be here for him and support him while this is going on. It's a lot for him. Just hold him, and be sweet, and make sure he knows you're here and he's OK." They're alternating between gently stroking Randall's face and kissing him. I punch him just above the ass to make him arch his back. 

Then, I'm holding him by the collarbones and kicking his feet apart so that I can get deeper into his hole. He leans forward as I push on his shoulders. I switch my grip to his hips, and for a moment we're counterbalanced; I have to be a little careful so that I don't fall, but Husband and James are holding Randall up, and I can lean back and pound into him and we work together like some sort of odd pumping machine. Our center of gravity is an imaginary thing in the middle of the four of us, and we're managing it collectively. Honestly, mostly I'm pushing it around and Husband is following my lead and showing James how he's doing it. This is what I think of as a circus fuck - it feels AMAZING, and it would be hot enough to do it all alone with no observers, but there's also both an acrobatic and a spectacle aspect to it, and there's this thrill of showing off "Look at this super hot thing that I can do, and look at this hot dude I'm doing it with/to, and these are my lovely assistants." I'll admit, there is a momentary fleeting wicked thought of "Hey... I'm dominating your man, Jane..." but it isn't anything like a cuckold trip, it's just like somehow I know James is offering Randall to me like a present he knows I will thoroughly enjoy, and at the same time he is giving Randall the experience of me. And also at the same time, my husband is helping guide James and Randall both on this journey and playing a supportive role for me, and this in its own way is my Husband and me making love. It is kind of beautiful but also very, very gay-kink-community.  This will NOT make it into a Hallmark movie. I have enough grip balance to take one hand off his hip and beat his ass some more, then put it back. I don't cum; I'm still in kind of a warming up place, honestly, I've only been here half an hour or so at this point, but this fuck is fucking beautiful. The energy eventually winds down (OK, Daddy gets tired; circue-du-butthole sex is fun, but exhausting), and we all need a break and some water. As we stand and talk outside the garage after things cool off, I ask him for permission to write about it. He says yes. I ask for permission to go get my phone and take pictures of his spectacular backside, which I have spent the past twenty or thirty minutes sodomizing and spanking the everloving fuck out of, and he says yes again, so I go and get it. By the time we are getting the pictures, though, the marks are already fading. So I take some pictures and we keep talking, and I hit him some more, just, you know, casually... to brighten things back up. For the art of it. And because LOOK AT THAT ASS. I mean, RIGHT? I will spank that ass given the chance, any time, any place. I'm including two different pictures, because LOOK AT IT. The picture where you can see more of his body, is before I re-spanked him. The other one is after. Definitely five out of five stars, would fuck again, yes, please, Daddy likes. 

HUSBAND. This is the first time my Husband has shown up in a blog entry. He knows about it, and I've shown him a couple of entries that specifically relate to something in our lives, but it's not his thing. But, this was the first sex thing we've been to together since I started keeping the blog, and we had some really awesome engagement, and I asked him for permission to write about it. So. I wander around after I get the pictures; I get some more food, and I talk to a couple of people, and basically catch my breath and allow my penis to cool off. When I go back into the garage, my Husband is here, and there's somebody on hands and knees in front of him, face buried in his crotch in the way that you only get with deepthroat. This pleases me, watching him being pleasured like this. I move to stand behind him, and I nibble on his ears, play with his nipples, kiss his neck. I stroke his body and touch him, as the guy in front is bobbing and gagging and working hard on his cock. It's really beautiful. I can feel Husband's body starting to tense, and he says, like he always does, "I'm about to cum," and then he does. He hold's on and thrusts hard into the cocksucker's throat, unloading spurt after spurt until the spasms subside, and then he relaxes his grip on the guy's skull and the tension eases out of him and he melts in my arms. This entire time, I haven't seen who has been delivering such expert cock service, and I'm so surprised that I let out a solitary bark of laughter when I see Mark's handsome bearded face pop up, my Husband's overflow of semen dripping down his chin. We talk for a while, but it's late, and Husband has work in the morning early. We have driven in two cars so that he could go and I could stay. Another of the weird ways we love each other is acknowledging that each of us have our own sex lives and sex drives; I want a lot of sex with a lot of guys, and he wants some. We've been together almost 23 years now, and it's constantly evolving and changing, but we communicate and we work on it. I go outside with him and hang out as he dresses and takes off, then another lap of the back yard, and then my dick wants to go back the garage.

MARK. Mark and I have some history. Like I said earlier, we've played at one of these parties - but we've also had some long conversations about the nature of sex and gay connection, we've talked about how psychodrama impacts emotional engagement in sex scenes, we're arts people and we have deep weird lives in a lot of different ways. If anyone ever is going to understand how having mind-blowingly hot sex is especially awesome when shared as a performance, and how being IN the performance is just as hot for the performers as it is for the audience, it's Mark. I've seen him be several people on stage; he's a hot little furry fucker who looks more Greek or Middle Eastern to me, but he's got a Latino name, so I don't know what his ancestry is - but thick furry compact body, solid hobbit feet that are so often bare, a wicked handsome face, and a throat with a special massage feature. So, knowing that I've just cuddled and nibbled my husband through a Markstar Express Service throatjob, I know what is happening next. Fuck, he even still smells like me. And my Husband's crotch. So, we make out for a little bit, and then I put him on his knees. That's where he shines. Mark can take throat-fucking like very few guys I know; he's got a muscular technique where I am able to fuck into his throat and he can kind of jaw on my cock, and it's really, really awesome. It isn't quick. It is EXTENSIVE. We really don't do much aside from my cock in his mouth; we kiss some, we rub each others' bodies, but it's really all about him worshipping my cock, and me fucking his throat. Pounding it, humping into him until my crotch pushes his face out of shape, making him make that noise in his throat that a squeaky-toy hammer makes, and remarking on that aloud. [If you didn't own a squeaky toy hammer as a child, play THIS video, and go to 27:03. It's that sound.] After a while, it's time... and I hold him tight against my crotch so that my cock is entirely buried into his throat as I cum. And cum. It goes on for a while, and I let him breathe a couple of times before it's through. It's probably close to two minutes on a clock, because it comes in waves. I love this position - where the bottom can't even swallow your cum, because it's too far down his gullet already - it's a direct deposit into the stomach. I'm overriding his biology, and he's letting me. THIS is submission, and FUCK it feels amazing. 

I stand still for a while, still holding his skull with my hands, and I just have to say something. There are probably ten guys in the garage at this point, maybe a dozen; most of them are friends, peers, guys I know from parties like this; some of them guys I've played with. I still have my cock all the way in his mouth; I'm not fucking, just kind of keeping it there because it feels good sheathed in him like that. "Guys, I have to tell you... there's something very special about this moment for me. I have just cum down the amazingly talented throat of this sexy man that has been my respected colleague in the arts [he choked on my dick a little at that bit, like he laughed but around my cock; I think he thought I was going somewhere else] for more than a decade, and I know that my husband's cum is pooled together with mine in his stomach because I just held my man as he did the same thing I just did

, and this feels like such a beautiful and whole and amazing experience, and you won't find it anywhere outside of this kind of gay community." 

DEMARCUS. This sweet boy has disappointed me twice before, but this time, he comes through. He failed to appear on a Grindr hookup, and then I gave him a rare second chance, and he failed me again. The lazy fucker FELL ASLEEP when he was supposed to come be my boy. He's had some shit going on in his life, and I know how that is... and when I see him tonight, he's keen and obedient, and in good form and wants to make me happy. I hold him at arm's length and inspect him; you have to, with boys like him, or they don't feel seen. I pat him down roughly, feel his body to check that he's been exercising, turn him and feel his ass, open his mouth and investigate his teeth, check his gag reflex and the state of his tongue. I feel his ass, first the cheeks and then the tight little hole. I spank him, first in an exploratory way - checking to see how the buttocks bounce and move - and then with more vigor, communicating to him some of my displeasure at his previous disrespect. I wish I had my paddle, I would turn his beautiful walnut brown ass to mahogany, or maybe cherry, but a proper beating will have to wait for another occasion. I tell him that we were going to go into the garage, and he's going to behave like a good boy for me. DeMarcus and I have had a lot of consent conversations. DeMarcus is into raceplay. Personally? I'm really conflicted about it. It's really a fraught topic for me. But a beautiful obedient boy with an amazing hot body wants to submit to me, and have me abuse him in a way that he has ultimate power over, and the line between "hit me with this riding crop" and "call me this word" is so thin I wouldn't want to have to find it with a microscope. I can definitely make a space in my mind to receive that submission. I can dominate for that scene. 

I spank him some more when we get into the garage. I kneel him down, and make him suck. I harden quickly, and I start to fuck into his throat. DAMN, but I've gotten lucky lately with boys who are willing and able to take that throat-fucking... he gags a little, but not much, and I just keep pounding. I hold him by the head, feeling his tightly curled hair under my fingers, and cram my cock hard as I can into his face. He's a little guy, and it makes my cock look HUGE, the contrast between my pale skin and his dark skin seems stark in the dim light. I say, "Say, 'I'm a cocksucking faggot.' " I don't take my cock out of his mouth as I make him say it, a humiliating awkward mumble. I fuck into his throat some more. For a while, I decide to just hold my cock full-length in his throat. He's VERY good at mastering himself and not retching, but I can feel his body bucking as he struggles with it. After thirty or maybe fifty seconds, he starts to splutter and cough like they all do, and after ten or fifteen seconds of that, I let him off. I tell the room, and him, "Sometimes, a fuck isn't about getting off... it's not about cumming, or getting somebody's load... it's about displaying dominance. It's about putting somebody in his place, about reminding him where he belongs. This boy... belongs at my feet." As I'm saying it, I've got my cock in his throat until about the spluttering stage again, and his increasingly panicky noises punctuate my little speech. I hold for a beat, letting the panic arise as he looks up into my eyes, and then I pull back just enough to let him breathe. I lean down, and I whisper things in his ear that I'm not going to tell you about. They aren't nice things. "And just so y'all know, so you don't think I just saw this hot boy show up here and thought I should go knock him around and shove my dick in his throat... this boy and I have had a lot of conversations. We've negotiated consent. I know where it's OK to hit him; I know what things to call him, and he knows how to stop me when he really wants me to stop, instead of when he wants to struggle. There are things that I will call him, that I won't call him here. There are things that I will tell him, that you won't hear me say. But I don't want for you to think that I am acting like this without having talked to him first. I have his full consent." He nods and makes affirmative grunts inasmuch as he can, my cock still inside him. 

A friend walks up to me, and I stroke his chest, and then his cock. I hold DeMarcus by the head, and say, "Stefan, this is DeMarcus; he's my faggot for the afternoon. He'd like to suck your dick. Can he suck your dick?" Stefan agrees, and I take DeMarcus by the skull and push him down onto Stefan's cock. DeMarcus goes to town, showing off for me, trying to please Stefan to please me. I hold him by the skull, making sure he gets it all the way in, making sure that Stefan understands that this isn't just about DeMarcus sucking dick. I lean down and whisper something for DeMarcus only again, and then I stand up and explain to Stefan just a little about the raceplay that DeMarcus is into - and when I make him say "I'm a cocksucking faggot" with Stefan's beautiful pale dick in his mouth, it doesn't sound quite the same. Almost. 

BRANDT. I have a rhythm with these things... I don't always get off, but when I have a scene or a scenario that has a natural arc, and it runs its course, then I wander around, refill my beverage, maybe get a bite to eat, maybe get into the pool and cool off. So I do some of those things, and then back to the garage. I'm standing with a group of a couple of guys, but nothing is really going on. One of the guys seems like he's got something on his mind; he wants to fuck, but the others in our little group are tops. I came here tonight in a top-but-versatile mood, and it looks like this may be the time to flip that switch. I turn toward him, and start stroking his body with my hands; I kiss him. He's a big guy, probably six-three, solid and strong, and he's got an easy, rugged masculinity that reminds me of either country boy or former college athlete. He's watched me dominate Mark and DeMarcus; I've definitely been giving dominant top energy so far this evening. I lean over and suck his dick. He's big; he's quite a bit bigger than me. He's probably eight inches, tapering thicker toward the base. He fucks into my mouth vigorously but not violently, and pushes into my throat. I'm not as skilled as many of the boys I irrumate; I understand the theory, but I just don't have the practice. I'm not in shape for it. I can't dislocate my jaw like a snake, although I do my best; I  cover my teeth, open my soft palate and let him fuck. I drool appropriately, and I scoop it into my hands and rub it on his balls. He smacks my ass. I tell him that I haven't been fucked by someone as big as him in a long time, but I'm game to take it if he'll give me a little warmup. He helps me into the sling, and we get my feet situated. I take a hit of poppers, and he starts working my ass open. He's big, but he's not mean with it; he definitely hurts me for a while until I can get my guts rearranged and get my second hole to fold over his cock and stop giving me that gut-punched sensation. I work his cock; I squeeze it with my sphincter, I rise up pulling on the stirrups of the sling with my feet so that my ass flexes; I push down inside so that my guts thread onto his cock like a fishing worm onto a hook. He has a good, regular rhythm; rocking steady. The sling has spring suspension, and it's almost like being in one of those bouncy rocking chairs that my grandparents had; it lets him fuck me hard while basically standing still, his thighs slamming into my ass on every stroke. He leans forward over me and we kiss; I take some more poppers, and he keeps fucking. I feel the most amazing sensation on my left foot; without even opening my eyes, I know it's Mark. We've had this discussion; we're both barefooters, and he's into more with feet. I haven't experienced it before. He licks and sucks on my foot; he sucks the whole of my forefoot into his mouth, tongue working over the toes; he sucks the toes themselves, and then works his fingers, slick with slimy spit, between them as he licks the tops. It feels fucking AMAZING. It's not kissy or delicate or tickly; it's visceral and animal and almost reminds me of a cross between stepping in squishy mud, and standing on some writhing sea creature. He works on the left one for a while, and then the right. I make sure to say quite clearly, in a distinct voice, "Mark, I like that very much. Keep doing that, please." Because, always tell people when they do something that is awesome, because if you're getting fucked in the ass and you're moaning and groaning, your hot foot service provider might not even know if you're enjoying the toejob, and they should KNOW. I'm rubbing Brandt's chest and pinching his nipples, and honestly, I'm not really even playing with my dick, because I'm focusing on him, and he starts to get there. He thrusts roughly into me as he cums, again and again; he has the shakes in diminishing waves, and at the end he falls on top of me and we lie like that for a bit, him deep inside of me, his jizz dripping out of my ass as he softens, him on top of me in the big sling, which thankfully is totally bear-proofed, and holy fuck it's hot. He rises up, and gives me a hand out of the sling, and I can feel the cum trickling down the inside of my asscheeks as I stand up; I would have thought from the way he had it inside me, it would all be up past my second hole, but he must have plunged some out. I have zero complaints. 

After having my asshole turned inside out, I need a little pool time. I like this pool because it's shallow through most of it, so it's easy to walk around and socialize, but you can duck in and be wet and deliciously cooler. I like the sensation play aspect of water and pools; I will duck under the water and come up and let the air dry the water on my hairy skin in order to feel the sensual prickling of the hairs rising one by one... and that's another one of those "could be autistic thing, could be just you're weird thing," but I LOVE it, and when I talk other people through this kind of shit, make them slow down and focus and FEEL themselves, they usually enjoy it. So, I do some of that... just enjoying being out in the night in the breeze, alternatingly wet and drying, cool and warm. I sensation play with myself. Sensationsturbation. Do neurotypical people really not realize how fucking AWESOME all this sensation stuff is? Fuck somebody in a thunderstorm. Do it on the velvety new spring grass. Use a hairbrush. Just play with your nerves, they're amazing. Anyway. I was in the pool, and there's Bolder and his friend, the one that I was teaching about the hand-to-ass magical connection. They met tonight, and I hope they do get to hook up and be friends, and I hope I didn't pull back the covers and show Rick too many of the scary things under the bed at Bolder's house. 

BOLDER, again. I see Bolder going down on Rick. Rick's sitting on the edge of the pool; Bolder's stretched out in the water, so that he's basically got his head and shoulders on Rick's lap, impaling himself on Rick's cock. I come over, and start stroking and touching them, and I push Bolder down further onto Rick. I'm explaining, as I do, why I'm doing it - Rick's a hot guy, but he's not kinky (yet?) and he's never run into a cockhound like Bolder. There are guys who like sucking dick, and then there are guys who seriously need to have their throats pounded like a cunt occasionally in order to feel fully human, and Bolder's one of those. And I'm not trying to tell Rick that anything he likes isn't good... I'm just trying to explain why the things that Bolder wants, aren't violence. 

I think that's a big misunderstanding between the kinky and the vanilla - at something like a mixed sex party where guys who just like to cuddle and suck the occasional dick will interact with fist pigs who swallow pissloads and get beaten so hard they need aftercare, you'll have some vanilla guys who will look at the kinky guys and think that the doms are abusing the subs, that what we're giving them is something they do not want. Honestly, I can see some of it - it LOOKS abusive. It looks coercive. I'm holding a guy's skull with my hands, and shoving my cock into his throat until he retches, and I KEEP DOING IT... I get it, I'm a horrible person, and that poor guy! And, honestly, I KNOW that it's unpleasant in some aspects, and the fact that he'll LET me do it is a huge thrill, and having the pure submission is an honor and a gift, and I feel ten feet tall because of that part... but it's GOOD FOR HIM TOO. Bottoms WANT THIS. That boy walked up to me, knelt at my feet, and said, "Fuck me in the throat, please, Sir" and opened his mouth. Now - not all of them, I can't say most or even many... but yeah, there are definitely bottom guys who want to get their tonsils punished until they're delivering the good-boy juice, and with some boys like Bolder, it can literally make them cum, again and again, just getting properly fucked in the throat. Boys like Bolder are FUN TO FUCK. Learn tantra, y'all. He's a lot naturally that way, but you can be more like that if you want. You can lean in on it. ANYWAY. I get more and more involved in their play, and, I'm sorry, Rick, I really didn't mean to monopolize your toy. I've got my knee between his thighs so that I can bounce him like a Daddy playing horsey with a toddler - the front of my femur is pounding his prostate via the taint - and I'm shoving him down on Rick's cock with my hand on the back of his skull until he's spluttering for air. He's letting me do all the talking, explaining about sub rush and acetylcholine and epinephrine. After a while, we shift around, and I start talking about throat slime. I get... a little obsessed. It's one of my favorite subjects lately, and I've learned some new stuff, and I NEED to tell somebody, and I need to talk it through with Bolder, and OMG. So, I am reaching two and then three fingers of my right hand into his throat and gagging him, and he's spitting out slime into my hand. He's been gagging on cock at this point already for twenty minutes or so, so the J-lube dispenser is well warmed up... I go from getting a little slick stuff on my fingers, to pulling out loops of what look like frothed egg whites, in just a couple of minutes. It... was a lot for Rick. And then, because I push things too far sometimes, I had my fingers in Bolder's mouth, and said, "Say, 'I'm a nasty cocksucking faggot.' " And he did. That bothered Rick, and Rick, I apologize, because I did not have the consent conversation with you about that. Anyway, we talked for a while about how Rick was more than a little freaked out, and how Bolder and I are playing with some edgy and weird shit, but we're doing it in a space that allows us to feel empowered and in control of stuff that we have felt disempowered or out of control about. Bolder and I have known each other long enough, and have enough conversation behind us, that we tend to shorthand a lot of things, and I lean hard into him and forget that not everybody knows all that backstory. 

And, because it makes more sense this way, there's a video, but it's from a day later. It's at the same pool, but a different event. This is me, milking slime out of Bolder's throat, and using it to lubricate his ass and finger-fuck him until he cums. It takes about six minutes, from open-your-mouth to there's-a-good-boy. That part was a little unexpected; we didn't plan that bit. This is a bonus. So, this isn't PRECISELY like what happened the day before, but you see what I'm talking about. The stuff the day before? was probably four times the thickness; I could have picked some of it up with a sieve. It hung in the pool water like an egg cracked into a bowl of water. 

MARK, again, again. After another round of getting out and wandering around and getting a fresh beverage, I wander over to sit on the edge of the pool, and find Mark standing in the water at the edge. I sit down on the edge, and scooch forward so that my balls are hanging off the edging tile. He starts to take my cock into his mouth, then pauses, and says, "Is this OK?" I say, "Umm... I came over and sat down right in front of your face and scooched my ass forward so that you could get my dick in your mouth... yeah, it's fine." and he starts to work on my cock. Even though I've already cum once, and my ass has been pounded so thoroughly that it feels like it won't close, there's such a pleasure in just having my cock worshipped. Again and again, just massaging it with his throat, going down on my dick until he gags hard, until his body arches with it. I wish that even a fraction of the boys who message me on Grindr asking if they can service me, knew that THIS is service. I'm teaching some of them, one by one... but I wish they knew. Honestly, that's part of why I write this - so the ones who want to read, can learn. 

I realize that I had wanted my lube and poppers, and I had gone to get them, but set them down somewhere. I tell Mark to go nowhere - I'll be right back. I go and get them, and bring them back with me. I explain that I love the sensation of poppers when I'm getting my knob slobbered, and I would appreciate if he would suck my cock and let me enjoy the pleasure of his throat while I feel the sensation of the poppers. He's fine with this, and we start. I'm explaining to him as we are going along - as he's sucking my cock deep into his throat, as he's swallowing again and again so that his larynx thrums up and down across the swelling of my glans - poppers are mildly hallucinogenic for me, and what I see is usually intricate Celtic knotwork, usually in shades of green and purple but sometimes in other shades like reds and golds or golds and silvers, dancing and whirling in the center of my field of vision. It moves as he works on my cock, and the sensations of the throatjob and the poppers combine beautifully. At one point, it looks like Mayan stone carvings, and then an Aztec calendar, the shapes rotating and writhing against a dark ground. After a while, I ask him if there's anything I can do for him, if there's a way he'd like to get off. He doesn't really feel the need, he says, but we are kissing in the pool, and I'm stroking his cock with one hand and his asshole with the other, and then he feels the need. Then he cums in my hand, under the water, shaking in my arms. I feel his asshole spasm against the fingers of my left hand as I feel the spurts of semen come out of his cock against my right. I hold him until it settles. 

I sit back up on the tile at the pool's edge, and he goes back between my legs. I hit the poppers, and he sucks. And again. It starts to crash on me like a wave, and I'm cumming hard, like OMG hard, holding his skull in my hands again, an echo of earlier, but now the poppers are rocking my whole field of view and I hear them in my ears and feel them as a rush in my body, and I'm shaking, and his throat works on my spasming cock, and he holds still until I withdraw. I explain to him a little - because I'm an explaining motherfucker, y'all - that I've always graded my masturbation sessions with poppers on three things: there's peak sensation - where the physical feel-good part is really good; there's peak poppers, where the poppers hit you at just the right point of their chemical arc, and the rush is very intense, preferably (for me, at least) at the moment of orgasm; and there's peak porn - where the thing on the porn is really, really hot at the moment when I'm ready to cum. In this case, though, it was the thoughts in my head, the people fucking and groping and playing around us in and around the pool, not to mention looking down at the hot stud deep-throating my cock with one of my loads and my husband's load already inside him... and peak poppers and peak sensation and peak porn lined up perfectly, and this was a SERIOUSLY good orgasm. Wow. 

KHALIL. And then there's Khalil. Another handsome man with a monster cock. He actually looks a little bit like Brandt - they're both dark-haired and have strong brows and beards, like they might be from the Middle East somewhere. Khalil is hairy where Brandt is fairly smooth; Khalil isn't slight, but he's more lean and lanky. His cock, however, is a rigid iron bar. It's eight inches long, six inches around; I asked. I would have sworn it was bigger, but he's like me - that's a ruler measurement, and he knows it. I know that's not a monster to some guys, but it's a fucking monster to me, and WOW. Kind of like with Brandt, he's been looking for somebody who wants to get fucked, and he just can't locate a willing sacrifice; it understandably scares a lot of guys. I tell him I'm willing to give it a try, and suck his cock to get him going. He seems cautious with his optimism, but puts me on the lazy Susan and starts with some warmup fucking. I wish more of these big guys would develop an interest in assplay; it would make things easier. He's patient and a good fuck; he varies his rhythm like I do, and he goes deep but also takes his time and strokes the prostate with his cock. He's a fucking FUN ride. After a while, we move to the sling, and again, we're very, very well matched. Here, I have more ability to use my body to make things feel good for him - his cock is so rigid and so thick that I'm not sure he's even able to feel when I squeeze my sphincter, but he can definitely feel when I bear down, when I flex my ass up by pulling my feet down, when I grind with my hips. We fuck a lot. He gets to a point where he seems like he's not going to cum, but he's worn out; he gets me out of the sling, and we have a little mutual admiration society meeting about how awesome the fuck was, hugging and kissing, and then we go on about our separate business. 

At the end of the night, the VERY end, it's down to me, and Dave, and Khalil. We pick up dead soldiers, empty out cups and throw them in the trash, get rid of food that will draw raccoons. After we get to a quiet point where everything that needs done tonight is done, we're lying companionably on the couch, just cuddle-chatting in a post-party glow. I've already put my clothes on, because it's time to go; it's well past one in the morning. I encourage Dave to suck Khalil's dick because it's such a nice one, and I ask Khalil, as Dave is sucking, how he feels about big dick privilege and big dick problems, and I tell him about my blog entry about those things, and how I had enjoyed him fucking me and how he's JUST at the limit of what I can take without a lot of pain, because he gives me a medium amount of pain before I readjust where my guts go. I ask for his permission to write about our encounter. EVERY ONE of the guys I played with tonight, consented to let me write about them; this makes me feel wonderful. Then I lean over and start sucking him, and he's holding my skull and fucking into my throat as much as I can take it, then making me suck Dave and then sharing my mouth back and forth, and I'm making so much throat slime that it's a puddle on his lap and I'm rubbing it all over his balls. He asks if I'm up for sitting on it, and I'm out of my shorts in about two seconds, so fast that Dave (who's still naked) barks out a laugh at my eagerness. I work some of that throat slime into my ass, and start riding him, facing away from him so that it's like I'm sitting down onto his lap. That seated pose is REALLY deep, and after a while, I turn and lay face-down on my knees and elbows on the patio couch, and he starts just RAILING my ass. It's so fucking hot. It's just right at the edge of what I can handle... he's pounding through my second hole, and it's punching me up inside with every deep stroke. It gets to a point where I feel like I need to either finish or quit, and I sit up for a second, and he kind of pauses like he's going to be done, but he's not finished. I tell him I'm wearing out, but I wish I could help him cum - he says he's close. I say, "If you're close, GO FOR IT," and lie back down and present my ass to him again. He mounts me and just goes to town. I'm growling and grunting and hollering out "Yeah, FUCK ME, fuck my ass," and it feels like he's trying to fuck THROUGH me, like his dick is going to come out my belly button. It feels so intense, so awesome inside. I'm shaking. He finally cums, great shuddering thrusts into me, and I collapse face-down on the couch pillows. I look down, and see a clump of cum, not the thin stuff I usually get from my prostate being milked, but a little chunk of the thick stuff - like when you hock up a loogie, the kind you can pick up whole on your finger - and then when I have the strength to rise up, I notice it isn't alone. There is a whole load of jizz, splattered in little chunky blobs, all over the couch cushion. I would be sorry about the upholstery if I could find the emotional bandwidth to feel anything but smug crowing delight about that amazing glorious fuck. It is the perfect crown on a delightful evening. I stand up, and semen is dripping down my thighs. I feel some hit my feet. I have that feeling again where you can't close your asshole - like, you squeeze, because you can feel that you're all opened up back there, but it just doesn't respond - you can tell that you're actually moving the muscle some, but it's been so battered that it's taking a break from responding to conscious will for a minute. I wipe off with my pool towel, put my clothes back on, and finally head for home.