web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Blowing My Mind

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Blowing My Mind

Yesterday I treated myself to a long lunch out with a friend I haven't seen since before Christmas, I think. And of course, that was the day all the boys decided they wanted me to breed them or jizz down their throats. I think I ended up talking to three dudes on a serious level about hooking up, but timing didn't work out for any of them, because of this big whole in the middle of my day. But not wanting to be a *total* slave to my cock, I turned them down, and had lunch with my friend, and it was awesome and relaxing and fun and we talked about work and hooking up and music and I slowly began to feel like a normal person again after obsessing about nothing but work for the past six months. Once I was back home, I talked to yet another guy, way up in Harlem, another huge black body builder who wants me to fuck him (what is up with that? I'm like catnip for these guys) but who didn't want to come all the way down here if I couldn't spare "a couple hours" with him. My kinda guy, but I couldn't spare that. But it made my nuts tingle to think about putting my dick in someone that hot, and I thought, what better way to enhance the day than with an orgasm? It was warmer and sunny outside, I was more relax than I've been in ages, and I wanted to get off. When the stinky cocksucking artist appeared on Manhunt, I decided, well, let's continue my program of getting off as often as I can without being so fucking picky about new meat every time. So I asked him if he wanted to suck my dick, and he said "sure"-- I generally like guys to be more demonstrative about the possibility of getting some of my fucknectar in them, but we've gone a few rounds so I guess he can afford to be straightforward about it. After our last meeting, he sent me a nice note saying it was particularly hot that time, and I said I could have gone longer, but I didn't know if he was getting tired, and he said he was totally up for sucking me as long as I wanted, he could go for hours. Well, that's music to my ears. So yesterday I made sure he had some serious quality time to spend on my meat, and he said he did, so I trotted over. And I left with my mind shattered into little ecstatic smithereens. I love being edged… but this was being edged into another galaxy.

The setup is a bit routine with him, but that's fine, as I know exactly what to expect: a small amount of friendly banter, being guided through the warren of junk in his place to the cocksucking chair, and a slow, very slow urging of my meat from flaccid to thick and rubbery to stiff and long all inside his expert mouth. But since I wasn't rushed here at his place, and we each understood what the other wanted, we went beyond the usual.

There was a big digital clock directly across the room from me in my line of sight. The first half hour of the blowjob it was just a very nice low-grade pleasure. It got me hard-- eventually, painfully rock-hard-- but he had yet to truly get me up to the precipice where I was in danger of shooting and had to hold back, and that's where I want to be. But right at the half-hour mark, he got me there.

That's when it really started for me.

The contrast between the first half hour and the second half hour was very noticeable. The first half hour flew by; just the sensation of getting harder and harder, and feeling my precum start to flow, and the occasional break to make out and stroke his own, very hard, small-but-rather-pretty dick was entertaining and varied enough to really make the time go by without noticing.

Once I had hit the edge, every minute was a splendid kind of agony. It would be awesome to say I spent the entire next 30 minutes right there on the spermatic event horizon, but of course even edging by a master like him comes in waves that ebb and flow. Each time he got me there my vision blurred a little more, and the desire to cum became more and more urgent, but he immediately pulled back exactly the way I needed him to when he heard my increasingly desperate, rather pathetic pleas to not make me cum but keep me close. 

At the 45 minute mark, my body was shaking uncontrollably, and I had my hands balled up into fists that I would slowly push into my hairy thighs and flex and twist; anything to take a little bit of my attention off how utterly fantastic my dickhead was making me feel, so I could just let the pleasure last without losing it. That, or I would grip his meaty, hairy forearms and squeeze hard, or twist my foot, or just run my hands all over my own hairy torso while he tongued away at the magic spot that was making me lose my mind.

And after a full hour, I was a babbling, incoherent mess, practically bursting into tears when I felt that hot spreading energy moving up from my balls down my shaft and to the slit in my dick. Breathing shallow, twitching, verbalizing involuntarily. I'm sure he was having a great time.

And then his leg cramped. He had spend the entire hour in the same position, kneeling between my legs, sometimes resting his forearms on my chest with hands clasped; sometimes, when I was particularly out of my mind and writhing, he would put his hands flat in my groin, on either side of my bone, and inhale me over and over like he was fervently praying to my balls. 

But his leg cramped, and he jumped up and shook it. My dick swayed and throbbed in the breeze, soaked with viscous saliva.

"Let's go to the bed," he said, and so I followed him, hopped up on the pile of pillows, and let him resume the sucking. He eventually hopped up beside me, perpendicular to me, so I had a side view of him. I reached out and slowly fingered up and down his ass crack while he edged me for Time #8 or whatever, and then I slowly felt down to his nuts, which somehow I had never noticed were gigantic and lightly shaven. I held them in my hand and slowly tugged at them while he ran his velvety tongue up and down my shaft inside his mouth, and they felt like a fantastical fruit hanging from a magical tree. I guess at that point my senses had really completely left me and so slowly feeling he heft and volume of these beautiful nuts just felt like the best thing in the world I could ever do.

Honestly, a man's testicles are extremely erotic, especially when they are big.

But the angle, being sucked from the side like that, is not ideal. It's a good way to keep me erect but not make me ejaculate, but by this time I wanted the most intense, perfect sensation possible, and that meant he would be between my legs, lapping at the front of my dickhead with just the right pressure and speed. So I adjusted myself a bit, told him to get into position, and he obliged. His broad hairy actually rather muscular back heaved with his pleasure and sucking and sucking my meat. And he brought me to the edge yet again, and I told him just not to stop, please just keep doing exactly that, don't change a thing, let me feel it, let me feel it, let me feel it… and I could barely think, I could barely see, all I was was my fucking dick and that impending orgasm, and I just begged for more even though I could barely stand any more...

...and then yeah I was cumming, hard. HARD. I suppose at that point he'd been edging me for 45 minutes-- after the initial 30 of just keeping me entertained but not particularly close to shooting-- and my body revolted with ferocious, high-pressure jets of semen. He began making small choking noises and I felt it running down the sides of my dick, so he wasn't swallowing it all, but he kept me in his mouth anyway, then, before I was done-- and this orgasm felt like it lasted two minutes, it was crazy-- sitting up, tossing me a wash cloth, and saying "That was a lot of cum," and I sort of wrapped the wash cloth around my dick and squeezed it and felt it still pulsing, even after the most intense hormones had drained back out of my bloodstream and the pleasure of climaxing had faded. It just wouldn't stop spasming in my hand, as if it had gained its own private life and was doing what it wanted without my help. I've never felt my dick cum so long, and so hard.

He flopped down beside me while I started at it in amazement, and told me about a recent trip to Texas. And we babbled about that a bit, and then TV shows-- neither of us watches the same ones-- and then I got up and slowly dressed.

I felt completely fresh and new. To say that had been cathartic would be a completely understatement. He had gone from blowing my tool to blowing my mind. Blowing out all the cobwebs. I decided to to even take the subway home, but just walk; everything looked shiny and colorful and clear. 

I fuckin love my dick! I love good, selfless cocksuckers! I love shooting my wad! So good to be a top.

…but fuck, is my dick sore today!

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