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Two Guys and a Wife on a Sofa

I’m a regular 48-year-old guy. So is my friend Jimmy. Well, actually, he’s 51 years old. His wife is 48. I’ve been over to their house about 6 times now and it’s the same each time, and I love it. Jimmy has rather unconventional ideas. You wouldn’t think so by looking at him. He’s of average build. Perhaps a bit short at 5’8″ and could lose ten pounds. He keeps his salt-and-pepper full beard neatly trimmed. He dresses conservatively. He’s an electronics test engineer, whatever that means. But unlike almost every man in America, he doesn’t like watching football, baseball and basketball on TV. That’s great, because I’m probably the only other guy in America who doesn’t enjoy just sitting there watching other people play sports. Oh, I like sports enough. In fact, I’m a part-time tennis instructor. The rest of the week I drive a taxi.

Jimmy was one of my fares. Like so many men around my age, I picked him up, and he gave me terse directions, and away we went in silence. My goal is to break these guys out of their silence. On a longer ride, I often get them talking about the most intimate things. I enjoy this game, and usually win. I won with Jimmy, and that’s when I found out he doesn’t like watching sports. I asked him whether he watches TV. He does. So I asked what he watches if he doesn’t watch sports. Porn, he announced. I mean, he just came right out and said that in my cab.

The conversation was getting interesting. I asked whether he is married, and he is. So, does his wife know about the porn?

“Oh yes. Sometimes she watches with me!”

I wanted to ask whether that gets her horny and whether they have sex afterward, but I thought that might be going too far, so I just kept silent for a moment. Then the oddest thing happened.

Jimmy invited me over to his house to watch with him.

So one Saturday evening not long ago, I took him up on his offer. I arrived at his door with a bottle of wine, and was greeted by his beautiful wife, Anna. She must be Greek or Southern Italian due to her olive skin. You could tell she was well past her youth, but still looked very fine to me! We introduced each other, and I felt a quite awkward. I hadn’t counted on her being there somehow, and now here I was, invited over to watch porn with her husband. She let me in, and pointed toward the living room where Jimmy was already settled in front of the TV, and stark naked. Not wearing a stitch of clothing. And, with his hand holding a full erection!

Well, that answered a question that had been bothering me. I was wondering what ‘watching porn’ with Jimmy actually meant, yet I was sort of prepared for any eventuality. I figured it could mean two normally dressed guys staring at sexual antics on a screen for an hour or two and doing nothing about it. Or, it could mean totally naked and wanking each other off. Or maybe something else I hadn’t even visualized yet.

And, now, what about his wife? Would she join us maybe? My God, that would be something! But at the moment, she was wearing an ordinary skirt, blouse and sandals. Well, like I said, I was prepared for any eventuality.

As I walked into the kitchen, Jimmy enthusiastically greeted me, as his wife melted away into the kitchen or somewhere. I kind of knew what to do: I immediately took off all my clothes and joined him on the sofa. He handed me the remote as I noticed what he had on the screen. It was a video you may have seen on the internet, of 27 young men jerking off all next to each other, laying on an assortment of sofas and recliners and on the floor. I let that one play for a while, and soon, I was slowly stroking my hard penis next to Jimmy. He was not circumcised, and it was a pleasure to see his hairy dick, and see his balls under the mess of hair. I’m circumcised and shaved down there. Jimmy complimented me on the way my genitals looked, and I was proud. I’m not big, and neither is he, but we are certainly average size. He seemed rather turned on by me, and didn’t mind staring rather intently at me as I jerked off.

I figured the evening would go well with one of us cumming, and then shortly thereafter the other, while his wife occupied herself elsewhere in the house. That was fine by me.

After a while, I handed the remote back to Jimmy, and told him to show me some of his favorites. He found a video of some people body painting and then posing in a park in New York City. There was an artist, a group of clothed onlookers, and two women and a man that were all painted up. They were kind of dancing around, and the guy was erect. That was really something. I was close to cumming.

Suddenly, to my great surprise, Anna returned, and was now completely naked. She’s a natural girl who was well-covered in black curly hair that made it’s way well up her belly. She had hair under her arms and on her legs. Her rather large breasts, laying flat, and seemingly a bit deflated against her chest, were quite attractive to me, with small, pointed dark nipples.

Jimmy had been pressed against the left edge of the sofa. I was near the middle, with about a foot of space between me and him. I figured Anna would want to sit between us, but instead, she sat to my right. Her thigh pressed against mine as she sat down, and I nearly came right then and there. This was one attractive woman! With her right hand, she started tickling her nipples, and then reached between her legs, evidently very lightly stroking her clit. With her other hand, she reached across me and grabbed the remote out of Jimmy’s hand. After blinking around a bit, she found a clip of two very white, full-breasted women trying unsuccessfully to fist each other’s pussys. Then, one of the women turned around (I love open ass views), and the other started working on fisting her butt.

That was too much for me. As soon as her wrist popped into the woman’s butt, I came all over my stomach. Jimmy handed me a towel, and Anna complimented me on my great orgasm, which she had been watching intently. Fifteen seconds later, Jimmy came, releasing big white globs onto his stomach. I handed back the towel. A minute after that Anna came, screaming embarrassingly loud, in my opinion, yet I enjoyed the show. I noticed there was quite a bit of liquid between her legs. She hadn’t used any sort of oil, so she had generated all that herself. Some of it dripped down onto the sofa, but she and Jimmy didn’t seem to care.

We talked a bit, and then I went home, quite satisfied. I have visited them five more times since then, and every session is nearly the same. Sometimes Anna joins us from the start, sometimes later on, but once she wasn’t even home. It was just me and Jimmy, and that was fine. Somehow, we have invisible boundaries. We have never touched each other, and that has not even been suggested. I’m fine with that. I love jerking off with my new found friends. Perhaps in the future, we’ll expand the boundaries. I’d enjoy touching him, or her, or having either of them touch me. Maybe give each other massages. Or wank each other to completion. But I’m also happy with the way things are. No hurry. Now, if I can figure out a way to invite my rather conservative wife to join us without freaking her out…

Odd Sports Physical

I went to my mom’s friend for my college entry physical. Perhaps I should have known better. She’s a nurse practitioner. Cheryl is her name. She’s a bit on the heavy side, has graying hair, and most of the time wears a no-nonsense expression.

She did the physical at her house, which I suppose is a bit weird, but at the time, I thought it would be better than waiting around in a doctor’s office. They always run late, and that bothers the heck out of me.

I got there and she instructed me to strip down to my underpants. Cheryl did all the usual stuff: blood sample, listen to heart and lungs, weigh on the scale. All the while, she was asking me questions, like why I joined the baseball team when I’m so good at football. (I didn’t get a football scholarship, but did get a partial baseball scholarship.) I thought this ongoing questioning was unusual from her. All the time she had known my mom, she barely paid any attention to me at all, and I came to think of her as a mostly non-talkative person.

My mind turned away from Cheryl and what she was doing. I was on the verge of buying an old Harley, and was really excited about that motorcycle. It was all I ever thought about lately.

She asked me to momentarily remove my underpants. That brought me crashing out of my daydreaming. Perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I asked “Why?” I mean all the medical exams I’ve ever had, either I would leave my underwear on, or at most, they’d swoop down the front for a moment for nothing other than the briefest of a glance at my balls or whatever.

“Because a young man needs to be checked for everything, testicular cancer, included.”

“Oh.” I felt really weird about letting Cheryl see my dick. My ass too, for that matter. But what could I do? This was a medical exam after all. No big deal, right?

So, I stepped out of my briefs. There I was stark naked in front of my mom’s friend. Now, nudity has always had an effect on me. Thank God that the showers in high school were all in separate stalls, because I’d often get at least partial wood in there. The other guys never knew. And of course I didn’t know what was happening with them in their showers. I kind of wondered. Anyway, the thing was I felt like my penis might rise up in front of Cheryl, and that would be weird, and embarrassing to the max.

First she did the turn my head and cough thing. I felt a stronger possibility of erection. In fact, I was becoming very afraid my penis was starting to puff up a bit.

“No hernia,” she quietly half-muttered. It’s not like I was relieved, because I was pretty sure there was nothing wrong with me, anyway.

She had me lay on her ‘examination table.’ It looked like a massage table to me, but whatever. She reached out, and started scrunching around on my sack.

To my horror, that fucked me up entirely. My dick rose of its own accord, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do about it.

“Um, I’m sorry…” I started to blurt.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just proves you’re a healthy boy.”

She continued to feel my balls for quite a while. Under other circumstances, it would have been wonderful. I’d like to have a girl, I mean, someone my age, do that. My mind drifted to Marie, a beautiful Mexican chick at school. She was a girl I always wanted to talk to, but never could. Oh well, now that high school was over, I’d probably never get the chance for the rest of my life. Somehow in my mind, I started imagining it was Marie squeezing my balls back and forth like that.

Suddenly my mind shot back to reality. What the fuck was happening? I was rock hard as Cheryl was continuing to massage my balls. And, why was she taking so long? I was starting to feel that pre-orgasmic feeling one gets. Oh no! But just before it was too late, she let go of my balls.

Whew, that was a close one! I realized this was as close as I had ever come to ejaculating, without actually ejaculating. I was sure I’d be rubbing one out later to finish the job.

She turned away to a little table, grabbed something, then returned. “The schools are insisting that we test for STDs these days. This may sting a bit.”

I didn’t really grasp what she was saying. I was vaguely thinking she was going to jab my arm for more blood or something.

Suddenly, I felt her grab my still rock-hard penis in her hand, wrapping her fingers firmly around it. There was that getting-ready-to-orgasm feeling again. It came on me suddenly. And then, as I looked to see what she was doing, she jabbed a Q-tip about an inch in my peehole. That did sting! She could have warned me. But then again, I guess she did.

Now, it would have been nice if she pulled it out right away. But no, she kind of pushed it in a bit more, and twirled it around. It stung big-time! Finally, she pulled it out, and if you can imagine it, that stung even worse.

“Owww, Holy fu…”

But then it was over. The pain ended as quickly as it had begun.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. It had to be done. Putting the Q-tip into some sort of little container, she immediately turned back to me and grabbed my penis again.

‘Now what?’ I was thinking. What torturous thing did she have in mind next? But that’s not what happened at all.

Cheryl apologized for that pain, and said, “This might help.”

She held my penis, looking at it intensely, and kind of shifting it to one side then the other. It was still as hard as a hammer. It felt nice for her to hold it that way. Then, she slid my foreskin all the way back. It was intense. Almost bordering on a different kind of pain. She held it that way for a good few seconds. Then she pushed it back over the head of my penis. Then she pulled it back again.

“Checking for proper functionality.” she said, in that same low, almost to herself voice.

She did that ever so slowly about five more times. That was it. I couldn’t hold back any more. I tried really, really hard, tightening up every muscle I had, but it was hopeless. Cum started shooting out of me, all over her hand and my stomach.

“Yes, all good!” she said, this time brightly, and with a smile on her face.

“You appear to be in perfect health young man.” With that, she left the room, so I could wipe up the mess, and put my clothes back on.

As I walked into her living room, I thanked her for the physical while feeling very strangely about what had just happened.

Cheryl asked my not to tell the details of what just happened to my mother. I assumed she felt guilty about going way beyond the rules for this sort of thing. I assured her I wouldn’t tell. I mean, I’ve never discussed anything sexual with my mom. There’s no way I could bring something like this up.

The next day, my mom and I were sitting around the dining room table, just talking about this and that, when she said, “Cheryl says you’re really healthy.”

I didn’t catch her meaning.

“I mean Cheryl says she ejaculated you during your exam.”

I must have turned ten shades of red.

Create Your Own Story

Hi Folks! Jeremy and I would love to hear your stories. Please write a story in the comment area below, or you can send direct to me using jenelle@sex270.com.

You do not need to identify yourself but you can if you wish. Your story can be a true memoir, how-to information, fiction, or whatever you want. It would be great if you could let us know whether it’s true or fiction, however. It can be from any perspective.

The length can be anything from a sentence to a complete ebook.

If you’d like to include video or pictures, that would be great. Email them to Jeremy.

Please don’t send any copyrighted material unless you are the owner.

We can’t pay anything for your submissions, and do not guarantee to publish every one, but we’ll do our best to publish anything that’s of reasonable quality.

Not Sure

My girlfriend says she’s not ‘ready.’ She won’t even masturbate with me or even show me her whole self naked.

On the other hand, my buddy and I have jerked each other off a few times. I’m starting to figure out that it’s natural and nice. One doesn’t have to be ‘gay’ to have a good time with a friend. Of course, if one is gay, that’s fine too, right?

So the day before yesterday, he proposed something new. He heard about ‘tantric masturbation’ and explained it to me. We decided to give it a try. Since the other day, I’ve read up on tantric stuff. I’m not sure that’s what we did, but it was fun in any case.

First, I started on him. The idea is I’d bring him close to cumming, but not let him go over the edge. I was basically sitting next to him while he was laying on his bed, and holding his balls gently with one hand, and jerking him with the other. Every time he got close, he let me know, and I stopped for a minute.

His cock became as hard as I’ve ever seen it. He was squirming, and laughing, but I could tell he was so close to cumming several times that he was like in another world.

After a while, I let go of his balls, pushed his legs farther apart, and placed my finger against his anus. I didn’t even push it in. He yelled “WAIT!” again, but it was too late, he came right away, spurting out buckets. I swear, his sperm went a foot in the air.

Then it was my turn. He wanked me and wanked me. Every time I got close, I let him know, and he stopped. This went on quite a while. I almost came like five times.

Before I knew it, and before I wanted it, it was over. He stopped. He told me it was better this way – that I should be satisfied without ever having ejaculated.

I wasn’t so sure. I’m still not so sure. I went home all sexually charged up. Contrary to what every bone in my body wanted, I didn’t jerk off when I got home. It would have been difficult anyway, with my sister home and all.

Now I swear there was a benefit. It just seemed to me that for the rest of the day, colors were a bit brighter, sounds were a bit crisper, my thinking might have been one notch clearer. Yup, I stayed horny, but it seems like it was in a good way.

After dinner, homework and some TV with the family, you can bet I jerked off. But taking what my friend said a step further, I kept doing that tantric thing, which I believe is also called edging. But, here’s the thing: I didn’t ejaculate. I haven’t even now, and it’s been two days. I did masturbate, I just didn’t let myself cum. I’m still seeing, hearing and thinking more clearly. Maybe even smelling and tasting with more clarity. Is that possible, or am I just imagining it? I don’t know. What are your thoughts about that?

Confessions of a High School Cum Queen

By Spurtz


Confessions of a high school cum queen

This first person story was related to me by a gal I dated for a few months. She was in her mid-thirties when I dated her and her sexual interests had substantially expanded beyond handjobs by then. Here’s Stacey’s story:

When I was about 13 I started taking an interest in what was hidden in a boy’s pants. There was Johnny, a boy down the street who I played with quite a lot. He was 14. We spent a lot of time together but nothing of a sexual nature ever came up. Until one fateful day. Somehow we got on the subject of the differences between male and female genitalia. I don’t even remember how we got there.

After much discussion he asked me if I had ever seen a dick. I had never seen a real penis and this was before the internet so I hadn’t even seen a photo or a video of one. We had a sex ed class in school and one of the upper classmen had shown me a text book that had a drawing of a flaccid one but it wasn’t anything special.

After I told Johnny that I had never seen one, he asked if I would like to see his. Hell, yes, I wanted to see it. And I told him so. We were playing cards at his parent’s home. They were not home from work yet. And wouldn’t be for another hour or so.

Johnny unzipped his jeans and pulled them and his jockey shorts down to his knees. His dick was a very unimpressive little shriveled up thing with some tufts of hair around it. His wrinkled little balls were equally uninteresting. He could tell by the look on my face that I was disappointed.

“Wait,” he said. “You need to see it hard.” He started pulling on it and before my eyes I saw it get bigger and bigger. I think subconsciously I knew something about hard-ons but seeing it actually happen in front of my eyes was quite exciting. I didn’t realize it at the time but I later learned that for a 14 year old, Johnny actually had a pretty impressive dick. In fact, to my virgin eyes I thought it was huge. It was probably five inches long when it got fully hard and fairly thick. He kept stroking it up and down and the head had a pink glow to it. I was in love. I felt a tingling in my pussy as I stared at Johnny’s hard penis. I really wanted to touch it. I had never been accused of being shy so I blurted out “Let me do that for you.” And reached over and grabbed his dick and started what I later learned was “jerking him off.”

It felt so good in my hand that I didn’t want to stop. I could tell by the look on his face that I was providing him a lot of pleasure. He whispered, “Tighter, faster,” and I tightened my grip and sped up my strokes. “When it cums, don’t stop,” he cried. I didn’t know what that meant but I figured whatever happened, I would just keep pumping him.

“Oh, Stacey,” he groaned, “I’m cumming!” And with that, streams of white juice started spurting from the tip of his cock. I was amazed by what I was seeing but also terrifically turned on. I really loved seeing his jism rocketing out of his cock.
After Johnny finished shooting I kept on jerking his cock just like he told me until I guess it got too sensitive and he asked me to stop. As he was cleaning up all the cum he told me he had learned to jack himself off about two years ago but only had been shooting some cum for about six months. He told me what a great feeling it was to cum.

After that first experience I started jacking Johnny off three or four times a week. I would have been happy to stroke his cock every day but it wasn’t always possible. However, some days, if we had the time, I would jack him off four or five times. By the time I was 15 I had jacked his cock too many times to count. He had wanted to fuck me and although I was tempted, my mom had driven the thought into my brain that it was too risky and I might be pregnant. And frankly, I had developed the ability to have orgasms just from jacking off Johnny’s nice prick.

I started dating when I was 15 which opened up all new opportunities for me. With every guy I dated I couldn’t wait to get his dick out of his pants and jack him off. Most guys were a bit shocked at how eager I was to pump their dicks dry. It would usually happen after some heavy necking and the boy’s cock would be like a bar of iron when I felt it through his pants. I would just come right out and tell them to get it out, that I wanted to see it. They were always very happy to oblige. That’s when I learned that dicks came in all sizes and shapes. Most of the guys were circumcised which I generally preferred but I also liked the variety of having a foreskin to play with sometimes.

My favorite thing to do, of course, was watch them spurt. I quickly learned that once I started jacking a guy’s dick, I was totally in charge. When I got them close to cumming, I’m sure they had a fleeting thought about what to do when the jism started spurting. But by that time they didn’t care. I knew, of course, that most of the time a giant mess was about to occur. Some guys came a lot more than others. But I loved the mess. I got off on seeing a big load of jism spurt out of the guy’s cock. I always made it a point to make sure that most of it shot up all over his front and coated whatever he was wearing with layers of semen. It got me off to wonder how they would explain being covered in cum stains when they got home.

Unfortunately I could only get away with that once with the same boy. The next time I jerked him off he would be prepared. But shooting his load into a cloth or tissues really spoiled it for me because I wanted to see the cum fly. Sometimes if we were parked in a really secluded area I would get the boy out of the car and stand outside and jerk him off standing up. He would shoot his load onto the grass and hopefully there was enough moonlight that I could see the streams of jism jetting out of his penis.

I also enjoyed doing cleanup on the boy’s cock. I always had some tissues with me and there was something really erotic about holding a half hard penis and carefully wiping any excess semen from it. And if the guy had a foreskin, I would roll it back and there was always some stray cum hidden there. By my senior year I had advanced to sucking the boy’s cock clean. I wasn’t big on giving head, however. Mainly because I wanted to see that hard cock while I stroked it and also get a good view of semen spraying everywhere. I couldn’t do that with the dick in my mouth.

As I became more adept at giving hand jobs I came up with other little tricks to enhance the boy’s orgasm. My thinking was that the more intense the orgasm, that more cum would be produced. And I really got off on big cum loads.

One of my tricks was to lube up my middle finger and shove it up the boy’s ass while jacking his cock. The first time I did it, the kid was really shocked but quickly learned to love it. I would pump my finger in and out as I stroked his cock and just as he was about to cum, I would quickly pull out my finger, which I was told made the orgasm even stronger and would usually produce strong multiple jets of creamy semen.

Another thing I would do is grab the guy’s nuts. Not actually his nuts because that would hurt but I would wrap my hand around his nut sack just below his cock but above his nuts. I could squeeze that area as hard as I wanted without hurting my partner. When I did that it would pull the skin super tight over his nuts and sometimes I would lick his balls as I jacked him off. I learned to let go before he came because gripping his sack too tightly would cut off the flow of jism and I sure didn’t want that to happen.

My interest in ass-play led to one other thing that I did that got my boys really turned on and produced massive cumshots. I would have them get down on all fours. The sight of their cock and balls dangling between their legs was a real turn-on for me. I would reach between their legs and grab their hard penis and stroke it while I tongued their assholes. My teen partners could hardly believe I would do that but they all admitted it felt fantastic. I didn’t do it too often because my main enjoyment was seeing hard cocks spurting out big cum loads and when I was licking their assholes, my view of their cock was non-existent.

I was especially turned on by cockheads. I loved the silky skin that is unlike any skin found anywhere else on the human body. Maybe a bit like lips. When I got a guy really hard, the skin would get stretched super tight on the head of his cock and literally gave off a shiny glow. I loved to run the tips of my fingers all over the head. I had also learned how super sensitive the area on the shaft just below the head was. I found that I could hold the guy’s cock in one hand and rub my fingers up and down on that area called the frenulum and actually make the guy cum. I loved the way their bodies would start jerking spasmodically as their orgasm approached. Sometimes I had a difficult time holding onto their cock. Then I would feel the shaft start to pulse and then streams of that wonderful white juice would start to shoot. Some guys were more dribblers than shooters and I would never give them a second go. I liked to see my cum spurting out, the farther, the better. Johnny, my first, was also my best shooter. Sometimes after edging him for as long as possible, I would finally allow him to cum and omigod the jism would rocket out of his dick and fly out four or five feet.

There is one experience that I had that I frequently think about and wish I could do again. George, a senior in our high school who I frequently jacked off, was from a rich family who lived in a huge house. His parents were out of town for the weekend and he invited me to the house to spend some time together doing you know what. I had a better idea. He had several close schoolmates, all of whom I had previously jacked off. I suggested he invite them over as well. He didn’t like that idea too much but I said if he wanted me to get him off, he had to do it. He wanted to know what I planned and I said he would find out.

At the appointed time four of his friends showed up and I told all five of them to get their cocks out because I was going to jack all of them off. The boys all stripped down knowing what was waiting for them. I proceeding to start with George and I had his big cock shooting streams of semen in no time. The other four were stroking their hard cocks watching me get George off. Then I worked my way through all four and before I knew it, I was back to George again who was hard as a rock. By the time the afternoon was over I had jacked off every one of them three times and after the four left, I gave George another handjob. Not much cum came out but he said it still felt incredible to get off four times. I was in heaven with all those erect cocks waving around. He wanted me to help mop up the cum that was all over the marble floor but I made him do it. I loved the control I had over guys. They would do anything I asked.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, the word got around school that I liked to give handjobs. As a result I ended up jacking off just about every guy in the school at least once. Probably 200 different dicks. I enjoyed the variety. It almost seemed that no two dicks were the same. I constantly had guys pestering me for dates. A few guys I took a special interest in and would go out with them many times. It was usually the best cummers that I favored, but I also went back for repeats with some of the guys with the biggest dicks because they were especially fun to jack off.

The girls at school of course hated me and constantly spread stories about me. I didn’t care as long as I had more cocks to play with. I don’t know how it happened but in my senior year I was voted “Most Popular,” despite being universally hated by the girls. I’m guessing that every boy voted for me and the girls split their votes among several others which allowed me to win.

I had my own secret award that I called “Best Cock.” I made up a paper certificate in art class and awarded it to Johnny. He was not only my first cock but overall he was the best. He graduated a year ahead of me so I had to give him the award while I was still a Junior. His dick had grown a bit more and by the time he graduated he had a solid 7-1/2” long and very thick cock. And as a special reward, I also gave him my first blowjob and also let him take my cherry.

We went steady for a few years and he was ok with me giving the occasional handjob to some of the guys we knew. Sometimes he would watch while I jerked a guy off. The guys knew it means nothing to me other than another cock to play with. They were happy just to get an expert handjob, even when Johnny was sitting there watching and playing with his own cock. After I finished with the guy, I would jack Johnny off to a massive cum while the other guy watched. I still see Johnny once in a while although he’s married now. Sometimes we meet up in a dark bar we both like and I will jack him off under the table. The bar’s owner never says anything about the mess we make because I jack him off a few time a month to keep him happy.

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Mrs. Sanderson’s Prostate Massages

Mrs. Sanderson's Prostate Massages

I’m assuming this story, told to me by a client is true. Knowing the guy, I suspect it is. Here you go:

So, as you know, I was diagnosed with benign prostate enlargement. It’s typical for a man of my advancing age, and harmless enough, as long as one takes care of it. Let it go, and you get to where you can’t pee with a forceful stream like you should. I was supposed to get some physical exercise a few times a day for fifteen minutes each time, avoid sitting for long periods, eat healthy, and one other thing.

The doctor asked whether I would like prostate massage, then explained what it is. I’m fortunate to have a gold insurance plan, which covers such things with only a tiny co-pay. In this case, $10.

So here’s the deal. The doctor’s office set me up with weekly appointments with a Mrs. Sanderson. She’s a massage therapist. She is trained in several modalities and seems very professional, if perhaps a bit on the spiritual side. Like, she’s into astrology, and uses Indian terms, such as ‘lingam’ to mean ‘penis.’

Anyway, I went to her. She draped me except for the necessary portions of my lower body. Then she placed a gloved finger in my rectum, and pressed all around for quite a while. What an interesting feeling! You feel sort of like you’re going to pee, but you don’t and it’s actually much nicer. I’d love to get this treatment even if I didn’t have BPE.

So, the first time was great. I felt like I was starting to get an erection, but laying face down on the table, it didn’t much matter. I figured she couldn’t see anything.

The next time, she asked whether I felt a need for being draped.

I boldly said “No,” and for some reason, being entirely naked in front of this woman felt very erotic. It didn’t make any sense. She’s older than I am, gray haired, and quite overweight. But friendly. I did get an erection, and there’s little doubt she saw it. You’d think I’d be embarrassed about it, but I quickly told myself it must happen with many of her clients, and so my embarrassment turned to a weird sort of pride. She said nothing about it, and neither did I. It was a bit strange, however, to have an erection, to be sexually aroused, and not have an orgasm. I wanked big-time when I got home.

Oddly, I did ejaculate a bit during Mrs. Sanderson’s session. Well, not really. The prostate massage causes a bit of semen to work it’s way down the urethra and show up at the tip of the penis.

The next appointment was the same. Erection with no one reacting to it.

The fourth appointment, Mrs. Sanderson asked whether I’d feel more comfortable with a release.

I had to think about it for approximately 1/2 second. “Yes, of course!”

After the finger in the butt thing, she removed her glove, put on some massage oil, and gave me an expert handjob. I mean really expert. Somehow, she was able to read my physiology, and know when I was close to squirting. She kept me on the brink of ejaculating for two or three whole minutes. Finally, I squirted quite a bit of cum all over her hand and my belly. It resulted in a big smile from her, and from me.

I have been going to this woman for over a year now, and of all damn things, my prostate has returned to nearly normal size. The doctor is amazed. He says none of his other patients have made as much progress. I attribute it to good diet, the exercising several times a day as he recommended, and of course Mrs. Sanderson’s treatments. Her handjobs have been so good that sometimes she can keep me in actual orgasm, contractions and everything, without squirting any cum for minutes at a time. Finally, she purposely takes me beyond orgasm into ejaculation. Amazing!

My wife knows all about it, and is surprisingly fine about it. I’d think she’d be all crazy, or jealous, or at least I thought she’d say “You’ve gone too far this time.”

But no, she claims to be relieved because I’m not so ‘demanding’ of sex with her. I don’t actually demand it, but that’s the way she feels about it. Since menopause, many years ago, now, she has been much less interested in sex than I. It used to be the other way around. Oh well, Mrs. Sanderson fills the gap nicely.

Oddly, those handjobs of her’s are better than actual sex. Go figure!

Non-Sexual Mutual Masturbation

Non-Sexual Mutual Masturbation

I’ve been practicing non-sexual masturbation for years. I’ll get together with a friend, typically a guy, but occasionally a girl, and we’ll ‘do’ each other. It’s kind of nicer if it’s a girl, because I’m more heterosexual than gay, but since I’m not particularly attracted to these people, it doesn’t really matter. You see, it’s more about friendship, and good feelings, having a nice time, than something truly sexual. So, it doesn’t really matter if it’s a male or female person, or what their age is, how much they weigh, or anything else. As long as they are not repulsive. Oh, and one more thing: They have to be decent, good-hearted people. I don’t want to hang out with someone of loose morals, addictions, or bad health habits.

The typical arrangement is that he or she will get on a bed or massage table, and I’ll work on that person, bringing him or her to an orgasm, or ideally, a whole bunch of orgasms.

Then we trade positions, and they do the same for me. We don’t usually cum right away. We’ll trade back and forth for a while, so each person gets several opportunities to enjoy the wonderful feelings.

You might call it all about handjobs, but that term is loosely defined. It might involve light or firm testicle massage, inner labia pulling, glans rubbing, asshole fingering, and other such manual activities. For me, toys aren’t usually part of the practice, but there’s nothing wrong with toys. Sometimes clothes pins, testicle presses, butt plugs, or even catheters can be involved.

As you’ve read in other articles here on Sex270, my friends and I have worked on multiple or continuous orgasms. It takes a lot of practice for most guys. Some of the women naturally have continuous or multiple orgasms.

So, in summary, it’s not about sexual attraction. It’s about having a nice activity to enjoy with friends and associates, maybe even family members. It’s like playing basketball, watching a movie together, or going on a picnic, but better.

Is this something you’d enjoy with your friends, family or associates?

Middle School Sexuality Test

Middle School (Junior High) sexuality test

Ever since junior high school at age 13, I knew I was bisexual. I’ve always been a bit of a rebel, but a considered rebel. I have always tried to think things through, and don’t necessarily go along with the masses, just because everyone else does a thing. I also don’t do something rebellious without thinking through the consequences. Having been taught to be a free thinker from an early age by my parents, I’ve been rather successful with my think-for-myself philosophy.

So part of that was deciding to be bisexual right from the get-go. It really opened doors for me. I’ve had a large number of spectacular encounters with many great boys, girls, and then men and women. The women and girls in my early life, have always been attracted to the openness of a guy who can come right out and admit bisexuality. The men and boys figured I was a safe bet to try out their own gayness or bisexuality.

I’ve always been discrete. I’d never tell anyone who else I slept with, or what I did with them. On the other hand, many of the people I played with, especially in my younger days, would easily tell everyone in sight – except maybe their parents – that they had played with me. Even many of the guys. Go figure!

So my reputation spread. And that was a good thing, because I’ve always been horny. My parents taught me early on that masturbation is a good thing. They told me it relieves stress, is good for physical health, and keeps horniness from building up to an intolerable level.

I say, “Why would anyone meditate when they could masturbate?” I do believe the benefits of masturbation far outweigh meditation. So, I always had guilt-free play with a whole bunch of people. Fortunately my parents told me everything about STDs and all that, and being one who thinks things through, I decided to become quite satisfied with non-penetrative sex in most cases. The only exception has been my wonderful wife, who I have been with for 22 years, and with whom I have two beautiful children. Yup, they’ve both told me that they are proud to be bisexual also.

Anyway, back to junior high school. It was called ‘junior high’ back then. Today it seems to be ‘middle school.’ Oh, I’m rambling, I know:) So, I developed a little technique I called the “Sex Test,” and all my male classmates just loved it. They told each other, and eventually, most of them came to me to administer the test.

They all wondered if they were gay, which was considered a bad thing in that time and place among 13-year-olds. So they’d come to my little treehouse in the backyard, into which I had dragged a slightly torn-up massage table I found in the trash. I’d throw a sheet on it, and I’d run the test. I’d have them take off all their clothes in the summer, or just lower their pants in the winter (winters were fairly warm in that part of California), and get on the table. I’d hand them a whole series of photos of sex. Some pictures were hetero, and an equal number were gay. I don’t remember where I got them, but I do remember cherishing the collection.

While my fellow students were examining the pictures, I’d start to massage them. For many, it was the first time their little penises had been touched. Mine was just as small and hairless at the time.

Some would come to me all quivering with, well, I don’t know what. Maybe fear, maybe nervousness, maybe anticipation. Some would be erect even before their pants came off. Some took a while to become erect. Most, at the time, were too young to ejaculate, although there were a few who had a full bush of hair and could cum in buckets – which I loved, since I myself, although I had already had many orgasms, couldn’t actually produce any cum. Many, like me, had dry orgasms. For several, I gave them their first-ever orgasms. In any case, They’d all leave in a most satisfied state! Well, sometimes they’d be a bit freaked out, but then they’d almost always come back to me a week or so later, and sheepishly ask me if I had any other ‘tests’ they could try, or if there was some way to repeat the experience. Of course, I always had something for them to try next. But that’s for another story.

For the ‘test,’ I’d typically start with very light touching of their scrotums, unless they were too ticklish. Then, I’d just gently handle their penises with my fingertips, and eventually work up to stroking them in earnest. I remember noticing that most of their penises were no bigger around than my thumb. Nowadays, the people I wank with are much bigger, of course. I just loved this business of jacking guys off – still do – and didn’t necessarily need reciprocation, although many of them did come back often after the ‘test’ and reciprocated most generously.

In the test, the moment they orgasmed, I’d grab the picture they were currently holding. If it was a man, I’d pronounce them ‘bisexual.’ You’ve gotta remember, calling them ‘gay’ would have sent them into a world of despair, yet calling them bisexual was just fine. Such is as it was then, with those kids. I was no psychologist (as you know, I am now), but at least I knew enough not to pronounce them ‘gay,’ and I think those who got the ‘bisexual’ title were relieved and appreciative. Those who were holding a girl’s picture would be pronounced ‘normal’ but I’d usually give my little spiel about everyone is somewhere on the hetero-gay continuum, with no one being entirely at one end. (I still say that today.)

A surprising number of girls came to me for ‘the test’ also. I never did settle on a standard technique for the girls. I always wanted to see their breasts, whether they were fully developed or not, so I insisted on full nudity. Why almost all of them complied with no complaints is something I still wonder about to this day. I’d generally hand them the pictures, and as they were going through them one by one, I’d rub their clits until they orgasmed. After a while, I learned to have them put their knees up, giving me full access. Then, I’d press a finger of my other hand gently against their little assholes. This way, I could generally feel when they were orgasming.

I took this test surprisingly seriously. I wanted to do a good job, so with the boys and the girls, it was important to notice when they started orgasming.

With some of them, even though I was pretty sure of the exact moment that the orgasm started, I’d tell them I wasn’t quite sure, so they should probably come back in a few days for another test. No one complained!

This went on until I was about sixteen, and then I don’t really know what happened. Perhaps I used up everyone in my school who wanted the test, or maybe I became bored, moving on to more interesting masturbatory pursuits, some of which I’ve told you about right here on Sex270.com.

Lady Mayor’s Gay Butler

I’ve always been shy. I’ve been afraid to try new experiences. And I’m gay, through and through. I knew in middle school when I’d look at the other boys in gym class. I always wished for open showers. I heard some schools had them, but in ours, each shower was a separate stall. When I realized how much I wanted to see the other guys, and didn’t care to see girls naked, I knew.

I came out to my father first. He shocked me when said, “I know.” I guess to him it had been obvious the way I looked at boys vs girls. Then I came out to my mother. she said, “I know.” Geez!

I’ve had a lot of sex with guys, but never have I had a real relationship. I mean, it’s never been like sharing an apartment with a guy. I long for that, but it simply hasn’t happened yet. Or, maybe I don’t long for it. I believe I’m keeping everyone at arms length. I think I value my independence. Anyway…

So by profession I’m a butler. My first client was very kind but very old gentleman who had done well in real estate. I was with him for six years. Our relationship was very ‘correct.’ I was his butler. That’s all. He died. I cried. I had to move on.

It turns out in this day and age, it’s hard to find work as a butler in the traditional sense. I had to expand my horizons and so I started calling myself a ‘personal assistant.’ That’s not really what I want. I like setting tables, setting out clothing, cleaning and polishing, arranging the home – you know, butlery things. A personal assistant is more about setting appointments, buying plane tickets, running errands. Still, that’s what I had to do to find work.

I got a call from the mayor who had known my old client, and had seen me at work. She wanted to interview me. I had never worked for a woman. The thought had never even crossed my mind. Normally, I would not have even considered it, but I was cutting into my savings account. I had to find work soon.

She hired me. As women go, she wasn’t bad-looking. Slim, tanned, short attractive curly hair, outgoing personality, and coincidentally, the same age as me. To my delight, even though she referred to me as her ‘personal assistant,’ I was really more her butler. I lived in a room of her house, and worked the evening hours. I did not follow her to work and have to do office things.

At home, she was the perfect lady, and of course I was the perfect gentleman. I served her well, and she expressed her appreciation, never yelling at me or being a jerk in any way. The only thing that concerned me is that sometimes she got quite personal, asking about my life, telling me about hers, as if we were supposed to be old friends or something.

One evening, she came home with a sore shoulder. It seems she had met an influential business man for tennis that afternoon, and she hasn’t played tennis in a while. I saw her favoring that shoulder, so naturally, I offered to massage it. Immediately regretting the offer. Too personal, especially since she was, well, female.

Unfortunately, she accepted. She told me to unfold the massage table that had been in the closet since before my first day of work. I set it up, and turned around, seeing Marjorie standing there topless, rubbing her shoulder with her opposite hand. Topless! She acted as if it was a normal situation.

One thing butlers do is keep their cool in all situations, so I tried to act as undisturbed as possible. She climbed on the table, and I went to work on her shoulder.

It wasn’t horrible. I kneaded for a while, she said nothing but “Ummm” a couple of times, and that was that.

A week later, the shoulder was hurting her again. The situation repeated itself. I got the table out, she got topless and hopped on. Only this time, when I thought I was about done, she rolled over, asking me whether I could continue the massage from this direction.

I tried not to stare at her tits. I don’t think I found them attractive, but my eyes kept going back to them, especially her large nipples. As I was rubbing her shoulders, both shoulders, and her neck, she said one word, “Lower.” I found myself rubbing the softer tissue at the top of her breasts. She said “Ummm” again.

“Larry, I know this is a lot to ask, but can you go lower? My breasts feel a kind of itch inside, and I think massaging would settle that.”

She was asking me to massage her breasts. Well, another thing butlers are trained to do is to understand their clients will have their own little private eccentricities, and we are supposed to accommodate to a reasonable extent. Was this unreasonable? I decided it wasn’t.

So, I started massaging her breasts. It was the first time I had touched a woman there. I was very delicate. She kept telling me to “really get in there,” to press harder. I mean, I wasn’t pressing very hard, but I had been under the impression breasts are super-sensitive for some reason.

You might wonder if it was doing anything for me. It wasn’t. There was no stirring in my pants or anything.

A week later, her shoulder was fine, but she told me the insides of her breasts were itching again. Somehow I doubted that, but I knew what she wanted. For some reason, I was happy to comply. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation.

I set up the table and when I was done, I was totally shocked to see Marjorie was standing there totally naked. Not a stitch on her! I was quite uncomfortable with the situation. As she got on the table, I went to get a sheet or a towel or something to cover her ‘down there.’ As I turned to go, she said, “Larry, don’t bother, I’m fine.”

“But, Marjorie…”

“No, it’s OK, really. As my butler, you’re bound to see me naked at times.”

That was interesting. For the first time, she had referred to me as ‘her butler,’ not her PA. That was pleasing to me. I hated being called a personal assistant, and loved being a butler.

Frankly, I didn’t like seeing her naked. It wasn’t right. But what could I do? And, was it really weird, after all? Maybe I was making too much of it.

So, I massaged her ‘itchy’ breasts. Then she asked whether I could massage her feet and her legs. I did so reluctantly. I really didn’t like touching female feet and legs.

A couple of times my eyes wandered to her crotch. I could barely make out the slit among her hair down there. I found it interesting, but not sexy in any way. After a while, she rolled over, and I massaged the back of her legs. On my own, without her asking, I started rubbing her ass cheeks. I don’t know why, but I figured she’d enjoy that. I tried to imagine that it was the ass of a small, smooth young man. I was rewarded with a big “Ummmm,” so I kept going. At one point, my hands spread her ass cheeks apart a little bit, and I got a glimpse of her puckered asshole. It seemed smaller than a man’s and more clearly defined.

That evening in bed, I jerked off as I usually do, but couldn’t get the vision of her anus out of my mind. I came quickly and big time. Weird, eh?

Over the course of a few months, the massages changed in nature. Now, she had an ‘itch’ in her vagina itself. Since I had gone too far already, I complied, learning to finger a woman’s vagina and even massaged inside her anus. And, every night I jerked off, remembering the images and feelings of fingering Marjorie to orgasm. Sometimes, I notice the remaining sweet odor on my fingers, and it would send me over the edge almost immediately.

I had the wrong idea about vaginas. I thought they were big bloody messes. Sorry, but that’s the way I felt. And, I thought that down inside they were very tight little holes. I didn’t even know that inner labia existed. I’ve learned a lot. When I saw Marjorie’s peehole for the first time, I was fascinated. It never occurred to me there might be a specific opening for that.

She didn’t cum every time. But when she did, her legs would go all jittery, she’d start moaning and she’d end up shivering all over. I have to admit that I loved that. To give that gift to another human being, male or female, is a delight for the giver as much as the getter.

When I had been doing that for about a year, she started hinting that she wanted me to be naked when I gave the massages. At first, I hinted just as strongly that there was no way I’d do that. But something inside me was rather excited. Oh hell, more than ‘rather.’ I was very excited at the idea. Still, I resisted for a month. Finally, the evening happened. At the appointed time, I came out of my room, not wearing a stitch, and feeling very funny, maybe what you’d call embarrassed about the situation. I wanted to run back into my room and put all my clothes back on. I didn’t. And I did set up the table. She gasped, looking at me with a wry smile, evidently quite pleased with what she saw. I do keep myself in shape. I was surprisingly proud of myself.

The massage started as usual. When it came to the point where I slowly introduce my finger into her anus, I was quite surprised to see I was becoming erect. I ignored my penis, and completed her massage. No doubt she saw my erection, but said nothing.

Not long after that, she wrapped her hand around my hard penis during the massage one evening. It was electrifying. I had no idea that could happen with a woman. I was thinking she might stroke my penis, and actually secretly hoping she would, but she didn’t.

On my birthday last year, she surprised me at the end of her massage by demanding I get on the table. I laid face down, scrunching my erection under my stomach. She massaged my shoulders, my arms, my legs, and finally my butt. It was delicious. Then she had me roll over. My erection was sticking straight up. I was no longer ashamed of it, or weirded out by being erect around Marjorie. It had become natural. She ignored my erection as she worked on the front of my legs, my arms and even my forehead. I have to tell you, the massage was delicious. Then, ever so gently, she started rubbing her fingertips over my nipples. I couldn’t help it, sperm just started squirting out of my penis, shooting a good foot in the air. Some even hit my chin.

It seemed wrong, and I started to apologize, but Marjorie stopped me with a big smile, saying, “I’ve wanted that to happen for a long time, Larry.”

Things have evolved. She massages me as much as I do her, yet, I’m the one getting paid. What a job! I wouldn’t trade my position for anything. And now, her treatments are always happy-ending massages, with good testicle massage thrown in. I had no idea about testicle massage. No man had ever done that for me.

So, I’ve been with her three years now and I have to say I get a real delight out of our massages. Oh, I’m still gay, and I still haven’t had a full-on, live-in relationship with a guy, but it’ll happen someday. I haven’t actually been with a guy at all, even for a bit of a blowjob or anything for over a year, and oddly I don’t really miss it.

Masturbation Class

Bringing a new friend to masturbation class

I decided to put into practice what Jim, our teacher recommended. He said masturbation needs to be brought more into the open in order to promote a more healthy society. I couldn’t agree more, but actually putting that into practice is difficult. I feel shy about it. Still, I believe in the principle so strongly, that I decided to give it a go. And, just because I seem to like challenges, I picked Richard, my very conservative friend. He’s a super-groomed, regular church goer who so far as I can tell has never uttered a swear word in his life. He’s also a professor in our university. He teaches some sort of upper level history. I don’t recall if it’s European history, or just what. I teach mechanical engineering.

So, in masturbation class last week, Jim tasked us with some optional homework: Invite someone to the class. That was his idea of bringing it more out into the open.

So, gathering up all my courage at lunch one day, in which Richard and I were in the cafeteria, and there was hustle and bustle all around, but no one right near us, so I couldn’t be overheard, I asked whether he’d like to know about the class I had been attending. He probably thought I was taking a foreign language class or something.

He said, “Sure.”

OK, the moment of truth: Hesitating for only a moment, I just came out and told him, “It’s a male advanced masturbation course.”

I immediately regretted telling him that. This was a bad idea.

“No way, really?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

I didn’t quite know how to take that. Was he teasing me? Was he favorable to the notion? Maybe he was shocked.

Then, “I wish I could do something like that. Keith, I’ve always admired your adventurous spirit.”

I didn’t really think I had an adventurous spirit, but I went with the flow and decided to maybe even push my luck.

“Why can’t you do something like that, Richard?”

“My wife… well, no, I mean…”

He fell silent as I could see his gears turning.

“What’s involved? I mean, does one have to start at the beginning, maybe next semester or something? Is it expensive? Is it open to anyone?”

Oh, my god, he was hooked!

I gave him the details, letting him know that it’s only $40/month, meets weekly, and anyone can join at any time. “We’ve even had some female observers, but they didn’t participate in any real way. They were wives of a couple of the guys.”

“That would be especially nice, to have women watching.”

He asked what it was like. What went on in the classes, and I filled him in on some of the details, but leaving some out, so as to not totally satisfy his curiosity.

Sure enough, Jim welcomed Richard to the class the following week. He was the only new guy. I was proud that I brought someone new in. In minutes, Richard had his clothes off like the rest of us. He was uncircumcised, whereas, every single one of the rest of us were cut. His penis was puffing up right away, which is always a good sign. As usual, many but not all of us were already erect. Oddly, when there are women observing, there are fewer erections at first. I think the guys are intimidated or embarrassed. On this occasion, there were no women.

“Today’s lesson is frenulum tugging,” Jim announced. He had George lay one on the massage tables, and proceeded to pull lightly upward on George’s frenulum, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. He lifted George’s penis up off his stomach by the frenulum, then just held it that way, while lecturing on the frenulum pulling process. He kept simply holding it, which kept it stretched, and within a couple of minutes, we could see George’s penis start to pulse. Jim let go in the nick of time, so that George had a non-ejaculatory dry orgasm, so he could stay erect and interested – as we had been practicing in our classes.

After the demonstration, we broke into groups of two, and practiced frenulum pulling on each other. I got to pull on Richard’s dick, and just like Jim did with George, I just held it stretched and up. It stretched quite a bit more than mine, since he was uncircumcised. Finally, I felt the pulsing building up, and Richard, not yet knowing anything about extended and dry orgasms, came big time with a huge smile on his face.

Once he calmed down, his first words were, “I’ve waited forty years for that!”

Then it was my turn. Richard pulled on my frenulum the same way, commenting on how tight my skin was compared to his. I was in heaven, and thought I’d have a dry orgasm right away. Instead, I came all over myself. Oh well, with the best of intentions, and the greatest amount of practice, sometimes things happen beyond your control.

Richard and I are regular attendees of our weekly lessons. Jim never ceases to amaze us with new techniques.


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