Gifted

 I've been hot for Brock since he moved to Dallas several years ago. Husband hooked up with him back before he was even bar-legal (don't y'all get your panties in a wad, he was twenty), and he was hot then - but he's matured into this big muscular handsome hunk of a man, and he does massage for a living, and he looks like muscle bear porn. I've been chatting with him about getting a massage some time, and/or getting together for a play date, or combining the two - so when Husband asked if I'd like a massage for my birthday, and did I have a guy in mind -- well, yes, yes I did. I did have a guy in mind. Husband has been to him for massage as well, and knows he's strong-handed and technically skilled as well as hunky and sweet, and he likes us both, so it was a good thing all over. 

He walks me up to his apartment, and shows me the room where he does his massage. It's simple, but elegant, with neat soft lighting and a music setup, a bear-sturdy big massage table, and a big slightly-rumpled bed. There's a bathroom right off it. We make out just a little bit, and I get undressed. There's no formality or body modesty with us; I know him well enough, and we've been to enough naked pool parties together, that there's no need. He gets naked as well. He's rounded out nicely; he's nearly thirty now, and he's so thick that it's a definite reach to hold my hands around his back. We talk a little, and he puts me on the table, sitting facing him. I wrap my arms around his back, and my legs around his, stroking my feet up and down his calves. He tells me he likes to start this way, it's a nice way to break the ice. I clarify with him later - he doesn't usually massage clients naked, this is an us thing. But damn, it's nice. We talk about how pleasant it is to touch and be touched. He's kneading and stroking the muscles in my arms and shoulders, and at the same time I'm rubbing my cheek along the hair on his other forearm which is holding my shoulders steady. It doesn't interfere with the massage at all, and he tells me how nice it feels. We talk about how nice it is to touch a furry man - my beard rubbing his thickly furred arm has a very pleasant texture. This combination is absolutely delightful, being gently pleasured and therapeutically massaged at the same time. I will definitely come back for more. I ask, and he lets me smack him, quite hard, on the cheek of his meaty ass. It rings like a bell, and the music on his stereo system has a lingering echo note in it that amusingly aligns with the slap, making it sound like the slap goes on echoing for several seconds. I point this out, and we laugh about it. 

We talk about the various issues my old body has, the problem with the knee that fell through the garage floor, the shoulders that are complaining from unaccustomed weaving work that I have been doing lately but haven't for some time. He kneads away. He lays me back, and I have him knead me through a script that I use for centering and calming myself when I am agitated or stressed. I've talked to him about this before, and I may have him do it again - it's wonderful, having this physical sensation to go along with the visualization of the subtle body. 

Here's the 61 points meditation from Steve Wolf: 

He gently kneads each point as Steve's voice names them, moving around the table as the script runs. As I'm visualizing my attention moving from space to space, I'm also recording the sensation of his warm strong hands touching me. Then he moves on to deep massage of all the big muscle groups on the chest, then flips me over and does the back with some special attention to my ass and then gentle stroking of my inner thighs and rubbing my hole, and then on my back again for the legs and the arms. As we're doing all this, we're talking - mostly me, telling him about how things have been with me lately, but also him, telling me about his life. I tell him about this blog, about the hot guys I've gotten to fuck, about the things I've learned and the guys I've taught things to, the hot guys who have offered their bodies and been kind enough to let me write about our intimacy. I tell him about teaching anatomy at the bath house [see: Anatomy Lesson] and as I'm doing it, I'm stroking his thick strong torso, tracing the path of the rectum on his belly...  the sigmoid, the joining between them where I love to fuck. I handle his cock, with its big PA piercing, and discuss whether I'll be able to handle it in my throat. He's got a huge cock, as long as mine, but as thick as my wrist. I talk to him about how fascinated I am with all of the things our bodies can do - and with how many guys are just totally clueless about how their own bodies work. I take two of his fingers into my mouth, and work on them for a bit - the flavor of the lotion he uses is really mild, and his eyebrows go up as he feels the back of my tongue and then my epiglottis. I swallow. I take his fingers out of my mouth, and tell him that I've been learning things; I've been practicing some of the really weird shit. His cock is definitely fuller now, although it's not fully hard. It's not the center of focus, but I enjoy touching it, giving him some sensation as well. 

I lie on my back, propping my head up - I've got a handsome, strong, shapely man servicing my body, and I enjoy watching. I tell him about that - about how much of my pleasure comes in through my eyes, how I enjoy seeing my cock enter a guy's mouth, or stretch out his asshole; how I like seeing a man's beautiful body move, the muscles shifting and the light and shadow defining his form, and watching the sensations of pleasure and pain go through him as I play with his nerves. Then he starts to massage my cock. Yeah, it's one of THOSE massage services. Y'all tip your therapist. I tell him about what an amazing discovery it was to find out about the second hole in the ass - and then to find that with some guys, there's a second hole in the throat, and it's the BEST. I tell him about how much of my sexual pleasure is mental - how much I enjoy the thinking part, not so much a purely emotional bond, but a connection with another person through a space that isn't just a dick going into a butthole, it's about two people, two collections of stories and myths and histories, traumas and scars, interacting in some meaningful and intense way. The best sex I have, is story sex. The more I've been writing, the more I've realized that. [psst: y'all read The Breeder's awesome "Pornographer's Manifesto"] It's not that I am having sex in deliberately story-shaped ways, although sometimes I'll admit I will recognize during a fuck something that makes a good narrative arc or something symbolic - but I realize how often people are having sex with a story in it, they're engaging in a human experience that is NOT just an animal experience, and they're just shutting up about all that part and hiding it away and not saying anything. The other guy is often HAVING the complicated feelings - he's just not telling you. But if you talk about it, and you are open and weird and frank about it - guys are scared, and curious, and fascinated, and wanting to learn, and insecure, and all these complicated intense things, and you can have hot sex right through those things. And I talk with him some about that. 

I've asked him specially for a thing that I particularly enjoy - to massage my prostate with a couple of fingers while he sucks my dick. It's a sure-fire way to make my brain explode. He begins, and I can't help it... I reach out with one hand, and push his head down. He's so sweet, and so obedient, and he gags on my cock, and it feels AWESOME. We've talked about this, about his sensitive gag reflex, about the Dom top he used to play with who would make him puke. He's told me that he likes being submissive to Daddy types, and he's up for this kind of play - but that he really isn't mentally prepared for this kind of thing today. I'm not intending to go that far, I just want to make him gag, to bring up some slime. 

We go there a few more times. It feels so FUCKING AMAZING, and he just keeps letting me push. I thrust, and his throat spasms, and I feel the slime rush around my cock. I feel like a little kid on a roller coaster - Again, Again!! It is really, really good. His throat feels like wet velvet. I tell him that I'm not trying to bring up his lunch - and he tells me that I already did, a little bit. This really wasn't what I was aiming for... but he's kinkier than what I'd thought, and the THC sometimes sits on my shoulder like a Bad Idea Bear, and I just couldn't resist pushing my cock deep into his throat. We had a conversation a long time ago, when I tried to fuck him at a party, and he told me the parties get too wild for him -- I thought he meant he wasn't into this kind of wild sex. He's explained to me now, that what he meant instead, was that he's more one-on-one, and he's totally up for the rough stuff, but he wants it quiet and out of sight of the public. He said I could write about it, though. He said I could use a picture of his sweet butt with my handprint on it, as long as it doesn't show his tattoo. I said yes, please. 

So, I lean up to look, and I'm not like, covered in puke or anything - he's brought up the Good Boy Juice, and there's a tiny bit of flavor in a little bit of it, but it's not chunky. I'm fine. I pull him to me and kiss him. He's self-conscious, and I tell him that I made him do it... I'm OK with it. He keeps apologizing, and I tell him it's not a big deal. He's going to want to change that sheet, but he's going to do that anyway, before a new client. It's not a big mess. He did an awesome and difficult thing for me, and I'm pleased. I laugh, and make a thoughtful considering face, and say, "Tacos?" and he laughs, and says yeah, they had Mexican for lunch. 

And then, I decide to see if I can take it way kinkier. 

"Would you let me take you in the shower and empty your stomach the rest of the way?" 

He thinks for a minute, and says, "Yessir." 

And so we do that. It's a big spacious shower, like a garden tub, and it has both a giant rain-type showerhead and an enema hose. He kneels in front of me, and takes my cock in his mouth. He steadies himself with his hands on my thighs; I hold on to his head by the occiput, that jutting out part at the back that allows me to control the angle of his skull. I fuck into his throat. It feels SO GOOD. After a few strokes, he pukes. The sensation of it coming out of him is different than anything I've fucked into before - this is definitely not just a gag, there is a little bit of undigested food, but not a lot. There's a texture. He rinses off, I rinse off, he sucks my dick some, rinses out his mouth. We talk. He keeps apologizing for being gross. I explain to him - this is something I'm MAKING him do. I'm doing this on purpose, and the fact that this HOT fucking stud is submitting to me and calling me Daddy, and letting me do it is fucking beautiful, and it makes me feel ten feet tall and bulletproof, and damn, it also feels really hot on my dick. I am NOT AT ALL bothered about the fact that he had lunch. We didn't pre-arrange this. And honestly, the fact that he's letting me fuck his Mexican dinner out of him is such an intense submission, it's more hot for me than if he'd skipped. It totally makes my day. I want to be very sure that he knows this. 

I keep doing it. I'm literally fucking into his throat as I'm talking, holding forth on my subject as I'm holding the back of his skull with one hand, the bottom of his chin with the other. I guide him to push his chin forward, because it straightens out the esophagus and makes this whole thing easier - and he erupts like a fountain. There's a lot of chunky vomit. If we weren't in a running shower, I would have just gone way over my personal line [see also: Sexy Is a Thin Layer]. But, we ARE in a running shower, and there's an enema hose to aim at anything that needs rinsing, and so nothing really stinks or is gross, because the water takes it away, and he can continually rinse his mouth. I do it again. After hosing the bits down the drain, he tells me he's going to have to tap out now - and really, he's been SUCH a good boy, I have zero disagreement with this. I have gotten exactly what I wanted, and he has given me a level of submission that very few men even comprehend. So we shower up, and dry off and go back to the other room. We both know that I haven't gotten off, and so he's not done yet. The fact that I can be in a situation where I make a boy tap out from too much throat-fucking and hard puking, and then expect him to continue to service my cock... I'm just a very, very fortunate man. And, there's a lesson in audacity in that, too. I've gotten to a place in my life and in my development as a personality (or an array of personalities; I'm listening my way through James Fadiman's Your Symphony of Selves, and it's making SO much sense as a system for understanding and managing the interaction of the inner committee) where I have decided to be bold about things in a lot of situations, especially sexual ones... and there's a certain amount of sheer bluff involved in that swagger - if he needs to tap out, I'll fold instantly, of COURSE that's acceptable. But the card that's in my hand to play at this point, is "You still have work to do, boy" and you have to play it like you mean it, and I do. I know what I want, I know what I'm doing, and I know how to make it good. Let's go.  

I lie down on the bed. He lies next to me, and I push his head down toward my crotch. I spread my legs, and move his head so that he licks my cock, and then my balls, and then he plays with my ass... eventually inserting a finger, then two, and stroking my prostate. I'm thrusting into his mouth, but in a careful way that doesn't hit the back of his throat. I check in, making sure that I'm not going to trigger his gag reflex with this particular stroke. It feels awesome, but I'm holding my cock partly in one hand to control the depth. My cock is being gently mashed between his hard palate and his tongue, so it feels tight and hot and wet. He's definitely working hard with the length I'm giving him. We are understanding one another well. We end up with a good rocking rhythm where I can stroke up into his mouth, and rock my pelvis down onto his hand on the return stroke, plowing his fingertips across my prostate. We both know precisely what we're doing. I hit some poppers, because I love the psychedelic aspect they impart to this kind of experience for me, and they show me a pale golden grid, like shimmering lights, and in the center a green white knotwork, dissolving into the center of a lotus flower. They open my mind up in a psychedelic way as well - I tell him about how I want for him to swallow my seed, to make it part of him, to take apart my DNA and use it to build bits of himself. And I begin to cum. It's almost more of a light seizure. I shake all over; I'm doing a breathing technique along with the poppers, and the two together make for a trembling, shaking orgasm that can last for a minute or more. Through gritted teeth, I growl out, "I want for you to appreciate my restraint and my respect for your nice clean bed, because the urge to thrust my cock all the way down your throat is almost overwhelming." I know that if I shove... he would let me, and I would make him make another mess. 

I keep going. For a while, I just kind of hold it in him and shake, but it's still happening, my balls are clenched up and my asshole squeezes his fingers as my prostate spasms with the ejaculation. Finally, I drop. I'm still vibrating gently, rocking with occasional aftershocks. He pulls his hands away, and we lie together for a bit. I put his one hand back inside me, just relishing the way it feels, warm and full, squeezing his fingers with my hole. We lie there and talk for a bit, as I'm coming down from the orgasm buzz, and he tells me he wants to learn some of the things I'm doing, the throat training, the tantra energy work. I think he could definitely enjoy them. We think a lot alike. 

As we're getting dressed to go, he realizes that I didn't get a picture of the handprint on his ass that I'd wanted, so we did that - it's faded, but definitely still there. Such a cute butt!

This was an AWESOME birthday gift. Thank you, Husband. And thank you Brock; you are a treasure, and I truly appreciate your submission and the pleasure you gave me, because I know that wasn't included in the gift certificate.