Male-Male Archives

Feeling Like a Kid Among Adults

I went to Body Electric in Berkeley, California to try out their Thursday night tantric male massage sessions. I had a great time. There were about 40 men there. We all got naked, then broke into random groups of three. Each group surrounded a massage table. We each got a 20-minute massage from the other two guys. The massages started with a perfunctory general massage, but soon turned into genital massage. But this was a ‘tantric’ thing. I didn’t really understand the philosophy. The general idea seemed to be that one can, probably even should, become erect, but not ejaculate. For me, it was difficult to avoid orgasming, but I managed to hold off for the full twenty minutes when it was my turn. I really enjoyed massaging the other two guys as well. I went home horny and charged up. It was an interesting experience. I felt clearer than usual, as if colors were brighter, quiet sounds more noticeable, and smells more interesting.

Of course as soon as I got home, I wanked and ejaculated big-time, but even still, I felt slightly better than average the whole next day.

I returned a week later and participated in another three-way massage. Before starting, I asked the instructor whether it would be OK to forego the general massage portion, and have the guys go right into the genital massage when it was my turn. He said that was fine. I then asked if it was OK to ejaculate. I expected some lecture about how that’s not within the paradigm of what they’re doing there. Instead, he said that’s just fine also. I also asked to go last, because I knew what might happen. If I was first or second, and then I ejaculated, I would loose interested in massaging the other guys.

So, I went last. When it was my turn, I came after about ten minutes, and immediately felt foolish. Worse, I still had ten minutes to go. The guys tried to keep me hard and interested, but frankly, the last ten minutes, while not quite torture, were less than ideal as I went soft, and was quite bothered by the ongoing touch.

Bottom line: I felt like a stupid kid among adults after doing that. I’m slowly learning in life that most people have reasons for what they do. Being a rebel, trying to do things differently, is not always the best way to do things.

What Do You Like?

My flight was delayed. I met a guy in the restaurant bar who was also delayed. We were scheduled on the same plane. It turns out we live in the same city. The minutes turned into hours. He and I got to talking, because what else was there to do?

Our conversation became more intimate. I was divorced. He had been a serial dater, but never married.

The conversation deepened. We were pretty much whispering because although there was quite a bit of noise in the bar, what we were talking about became, well, quite private.

We were talking about masturbation. We were agreeing with each other that it’s a good thing. We went on to agree that if everyone was more accepting of masturbation, it might cure some of the world’s ills. Like overpopulation and unwanted children. Like STDs.

Then he asked a weird question, “What masturbatory thing would you like, but you can’t do it to yourself?”

Normally, I’d never answer a question like that. I’d be shocked. But the way this conversation had been unfolding, it seemed fine to give him my answer:

“I have this fantasy of being tied down, and have someone rub the palm of their hand over the tip of my erect dick. It’s a feeling I can’t stand, and can’t get enough of, all at the same time.”

“Ah, I know the feeling,” he said, adding, “You know, I’ve always been surprised that with a little oil, the feeling is even more intense than with a dry hand. Plus it doesn’t rub the tip of your penis raw.”

I was glad to have some solidarity. Someone who experienced something like me, and was willing to talk about it. Because, face it, sex with women is great, but there can be something missing. Most women are into kissing, dating, and the whole package. Sometimes a guy just wants to get off. Sometimes a guy wants something weird, that most women wouldn’t understand.

“What do you like?”

“I like my balls massaged. Really hard, like rolfing.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about. While I’m not so much a fan of that, I can enjoy a good, firm ball massage.

He went on to say, “But I don’t care for oral, anal, kissing or any of that.”

I was delighted, because that describes me to a tee.

They got the airplane fixed and we boarded, but not before exchanging phone numbers.

A day later he called. “When can we get together?”

I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Dude, I’m available right now.”

Fifteen minutes later found me in his apartment. We did all the things we discussed. It was even better than I could have imagined. He rubbed the tip of my penis so perfectly that not only did I squirm, yell, and carry on, I even involuntarily let out a little pee a couple of minutes before cumming.

I squeezed his balls so hard I thought they’d pop. He informed me that they are like chicken gizzards. Rubbery. You can’t pop them with your fingertips. You just have to be careful not to injure the back sides where the cords attach. I kind of knew that, but it was reassuring to hear. He was yelling, he was wincing, he was loving it. He kept wanting me to squeeze harder. It kept me very erect doing that to him.

He came without me even touching his penis. Then, he offered the same treatment to me. I had to ask him to be gentler, but found myself very much enjoying the testicle massage. I came a second time, but only because he let go of my scrotum, slowly buried a finger deep in my rectum, and jerked me off with his other hand.

We meet up every month or two. Most of the time we are happy with ourselves or the various ladies we meet. But every now and then, we want something really intense, and we know exactly how to give it to each other.

Cum Forced Backward

He is around 38 years old, white, medium height, slightly thinner than average, keeps his hair short, shaves most of his light body hair including his genital area, and works in the high-tech industry. He has a girlfriend, and I am married.

His girlfriend seldom ‘puts out’, and my wife says her hormones have shifted, so she’s no longer interested in sexual activities. So, he and I, although we don’t think of ourselves as gay, enjoy playing with each other very much.

We don’t kiss, do blowjobs or any of that. We just like our mutual masturbation.

He likes it rough, and sometimes I do too. We generally edge each other for an hour or so, then one of us goes too far and cums. The other then receives some more attention until he ejaculates also.

I particularly like ball massage, and glans rubbing. That’s when someone, male or female, rubs the palm of their hand over the tip of my dick. Oddly, the sensation is stronger with oil than dry. This glans rubbing business is hard to take. At first it makes one squirm and want to get away, but in a while, it transmutes into a combination of gonna cum or gotta pee feeling that is quite delicious and can keep one on the edge for quite a while.

My friend likes to be fisted, and I’m happy to do that for him from time to time. We have also experimented with sounding. I once worked a length of sterilized aquarium tubing all the way into his bladder. He orgasmed with the tube all the way in, and nothing came out. The ejaculation was blocked by the tubing.

The other night, as I was rubbing his rock-hard penis, and keeping him just below the threshold of cumming, we started talking about that ejaculation that was blocked. He said it was particularly enjoyable and seemed to last longer than the typical orgasm. I have experimented with blocked ejaculations a few times, and found the orgasms did last longer than usual.

I proposed that I might try something I have fantasized about, but would be too chicken to have it done to me. He is more adventurous than I am, and does rather like the rough stuff. I said could bring him to orgasm, and hold it inside by squeezing the tip of his penis. Then, after he came, since he likes various forms of post-orgasm stimulation, I would try to milk him backward. Starting from the tip of his penis which would still be held closed, I’d squeeze farther and farther down his shaft, forcing the sperm backward. I’d continue pressing past his balls, down as far as I could reach to the base of his penis, even reaching my fingers into his asshole if necessary, until the ejaculate was squeezed all the way into his bladder.

He was very enthusiastic about the idea. So, we proceeded. With this exciting new idea, he grew even harder, and came back to the brink of orgasm, where he had already been several times during the past hour. But this time, I kept going, and as his orgasm started, I did pinch the tip of his dick. But it was hard to get a good grip. My fingers wanted to slip off due to the oil we had been using. I tried to get a better grip without losing the grip I had. I didn’t want any sperm to leak out. It seemed like his orgasm was lasting longer than usual, and sure enough, I just couldn’t maintain a good grip between my thumb and the side of my forefinger, and a squirt of semen shot into the air. It was under pressure, so it shot a good three feet!

I quickly got a better grip just below the tip with my other hand, and at that point, I noticed something quite weird: He was still orgasming and the contractions were very, very strong. It was quite obvious. I could feel his dick pulsing strongly in the one hand, and my other hand, which had been pressing lightly on the spot just ahead of his anus felt convulsions there too. I had placed my hand on that perineum area expressly for the purpose of feeling his pulsing orgasm, and was rewarded with some remarkably strong pulses. But not just a few. He kept going and going. I was quite surprised that he was still orgasming.

As I was noticing all that, my grip was slipping again, and another squirt of sperm escaped, and shot well into the air again, landing in sprinkles against his stomach. WTF? He was still orgasming! I tried improving my grip, but didn’t get it right, and yet another squirt slipped out. Finally, I got a good grip, and after what had been probably a full minute, his orgasmic contractions weakened and subsided. Needless to say, we were both quite amazed.

I have had a lot of masturbatory experience in my life, and I’ve never seen anything like this. In all my experiences at the San Francisco Masturbate-A-Thon, SF Jacks, male tantric massages in Berkeley, the Power Exchange, and all sorts of experimentation with friends of both sexes, I have never seen a male orgasm last anywhere near as long as this one did, and have never seen such strong contractions.

I don’t know if it is something specific to my friend, or whether it could be like that for everyone who has an ejaculation blocked in just the right way. I certainly want to find out, and will be experimenting further.

Unfortunately, I had lost a good bit of the sperm I had hoped to trap, but there was still some in his urethra. Perhaps if I had trapped it all, the orgasm would have lasted longer, and been even stronger. I started the process of squeezing it back toward his bladder, and did my best, squeezing down and down. Past his balls. Around the bottom area under his balls, and finally into his asshole. I don’t really know whether I managed to actually move any sperm back or not. And don’t yet know whether I was able to get anything actually into his bladder.

I’m going to ask him next time I see him, probably in a few days. But better than that, I’m pretty sure he’ll want to try again. This time, I’ll make sure to get a better grip, so I can trap all the sperm, then there will be enough to tell for sure whether it is being forced back into his bladder. I might have him do it to me, too.

You might enjoy a similar memoir: Cum Blocking Friend.

Unexpected Bisexual Exposure

I met a woman who I found quite attractive. We were both 26 years old. She and I became friends, but nothing more. When I tried to expand it to a sexual relationship, she told me not only that she was lesbian, but lived with her girlfriend. She was kind about it, and we remained friends.

I told her that I admired her openness about her lesbianism, and mentioned that I am bisexual, although I was quite closeted about it at the time.

One day, she invited me to dinner with her girlfriend. I kind of knew something was brewing, but didn’t quite know what. When I arrived, it was her, her girlfriend, me, and they introduced me to Gary, and attractive nineteen-year-old kid.

After dinner, and a long, enjoyable conversation well into the evening, the two women told us two guys that we were free to stay over, that we could sleep on the floor of their living room. They gave us blankets and pillows. Gary and I bedded down about six feet away from each other on the thick carpet.

Shortly after the two women went upstairs, Gary scooted up next to me and said something like, “So, you want to fool around?”

I didn’t need an engraved invitation. Within a minute, he had put his hand in my underpants, and I responded in kind, finding his already erect penis under the blanket by feel. Within 15 seconds he kind of curled up, and pushed my hand away. I felt wetness on my fingertips.

The poor fellow had ejaculated just that quickly. That was the end of our fooling around that evening. I realized he wouldn’t be in the mood to finish me, and frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to do anything more anyway. We fell asleep.

In the morning, the four of us had a nice breakfast, then the women and I went off to work, while Gary went to his college class.

The four of us never hooked up again, although we’d see each other around town from time to time, wave, smile, and say “Hi!”

The take-away for me was that it’s really easy to hook up with guys – or girls. Somehow, after that, I was much less reluctant to hide my bisexuality, and as a result, I’ve had many good casual and some long-lasting relationships with people of all sexes.

Uncle Sam

My parents have always been what I call ‘hippie-rebels.’ They’d do things like go to a nude beach in the summer. They left us kids behind with relatives.

When I turned 18, I was invited to the nude beach for the first time.

I was like, “No way!”

My sister, who was 20 at the time, managed to talk me into it. She kept telling me it wasn’t like what I thought, that I’d have a good time. I doubted it. But, to appease her, and my parents…

So the day arrived. We took the van, since we were quite a group. It included my sister, my younger brother, my parents, my dad’s brother, Uncle Sam, and Aunt Kate, and their grown children Rory and Emily.

Uncle Sam is a kick. You might say he’s eccentric. He has taken to looking like the ‘Uncle Sam’ of American folklore. It probably started as he got older, when people started noticing he does have a natural resemblance.

Now Emily is adopted, and I’ve always had a secret ‘thing’ for her. She’s Asian, tiny, and has long black hair. I’d fuck her in a heartbeat under the right circumstances. That would be circumstances that will never happen. However, the idea of her joining us on the nude beach really perked me up. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’d love to see that girl naked – in person, that is. I have seen a picture of her artistically posing. It’s been in a family album for the past year or so. No one seems to think anything about it, but that picture really sends me.

And that brought up, quite literally, my biggest fear: That I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I’d have an erection on the beach. That would be so unbelievably devastating! When my sister was trying to talk me into coming, that was the thing I reluctantly asked her about – sheepishly. “What if I get… um,… well…”

“Oh, if you have an erection. It’s no big deal, really.” she insisted. Well, it would be a huge big deal to me.

Having been around the boys locker rooms at the Y and at school, and having seen my fair share of porn on the Internet, and able to stay cool, er, soft, I figured I could manage it at the beach.

Boy, was I wrong! The minute our clothes were off in the warm sun, up it sprang. My penis had a mind of its own. I was so embarrassed. Hell, I was fucking mortified! I wanted to run to the water to hide it, but the water around here is way too cold to actually swim in. Right there in front of my parents, my aunt and uncle, my sister and brother, and worst of all, Emily, I sprang wood as soon as I saw Emily naked. Her ass, oh my God, her ass was tiny, smooth and beautiful. Her tits were to die for. Her front, well she had a fairly small, neatly trimmed patch of black hair that didn’t quite hide her slightly protruding pink inner labia. I tried to control my mind, but my prick got the better of me.

Uncle Sam saw my condition, as did everyone else, but while they all pretended not to notice, he simply said, in a quiet voice, but still loud enough that everyone could hear, “Come here, son.”

Now Uncle Sam is the proverbial jolly, fat fellow. He has quite a stomach. He’s old, too, like maybe sixty years old. And, he’s all covered with hair. He’s not much to look at. Not at all.

I was hesitant. But, he had that look. You know the one – when your father’s brother commands you to do something, you do it. I did it. I walked over, with my erection waving in front of me, to Uncle Sam, who was half standing, half reclining against a boulder on the beach. I’m pretty sure the whole family’s eyes were on me, as were the twenty or so other naked people on the beach.

Uncle Sam, like my father, is kind of a hippie rebel. He does what he wants, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else. Not a bad philosophy to live by, really, but certainly not my style. I have to admit I’m shy. I try not to rock the boat, ever. My uncle, and my dad, and my mother too, they’re all big-time boat rockers. That has always bothered me.

So I walked over to him. He reached out, and just grabbed my dick. Just like that. He just took it in his hand, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, saying, “Here, let me help you with that.”

I felt his other hand, surprisingly warm and soft, start to caress my scrotum. I was shocked, alarmed, I don’t even have a name for it. But his hands were surprisingly comforting. To this day, I can’t figure it out. What he started doing to me felt really, really nice. In a moment, my fear, or worry, or embarrassment, whatever you want to call it, was gone. I was starting to moan and writhe in some sort of sexual ecstasy. After a few seconds, I didn’t even try to hide it. It came vaguely to my awareness that I was also enjoying all the attention. Somewhere around 30 pairs of eyes were on me, seeing me get a handjob of all things from my fat, naked uncle. And I was loving it! That’s the weird part. I’m not gay or anything. At least I don’t think so.

All too soon, it was over. I squirted several shots of semen into the sand, as Uncle Sam turned my body slightly so it wouldn’t get on him. Afterward, my knees were as weak as my face was red. The embarrassment immediately swept back over me.

Not knowing the right etiquette for such a situation, I just said, “Thank you, Uncle Sam.”

Afterward, no one said anything. In fact, I kind of wish Emily might have said something. Even if it was teasing. I would have liked to discuss it with her. Needless to say, the erection problem was gone, and I actually enjoyed the rest of the afternoon on the beach.

Twelve Students

I’m going to be a psychologist when I grow up. In fact, I believe I’ll specialize in sexual research. I’ve learned a few things already. For instance, if you want something, don’t be shy. Just ask! That seemingly simple technique works wonders!

Knowing that, I went to Dr. Wilton, the principal of our school, laid out my plan, and asked his permission. Now, you should know that our school is progressive. Established in 1978, it’s a ‘free school’ meaning open curriculum. Or, at least it was back in ’78. Over the years, it has become an almost typical high school, although instead of ordinary electives, we have two hours each afternoon to study exactly what we want. Much of this study is not on school grounds, but all over the city, at various volunteer mentors’ homes and places of business. The teachers, who prefer to call themselves ‘counselors’ guide us in integrating our own interests such that we end up writing, learning relevant math, and presenting our projects, so that we end up well-rounded. Interestingly, several graduates of our school have gone on to have illustrious careers.

So, when I told Dr. Wilton that I wanted to conduct a research study, involving 24 kids, he didn’t balk. Well, not entirely. When I told him I wanted 12 kids to masturbate together daily, then chronicle their results in their social lives against 12 kids who didn’t masturbate, or at least not as often and socially, he did his best to suppress an expression of shock, then he told me:

1. There was to be no sexual activity beyond masturbation. No penetrating of anyone’s anything.

2. None of the ‘counselors’ could supervise, because they could too easily be construed as being involved in illegal ways since we were minors.

3. For the same reason, this could not be conducted on school premises.

4. It was to be stated in any presentation, written, video, or live, that the school was in no way associated with this research.

Frankly, I was rather amazed that he went along with it at all. At the end, he told me that he thought it was a very valid experiment, and he would be very interested to read the results. He went on to say that masturbation ought to be a required subject in school, like physical education, so that students wouldn’t be dealing with pent up horniness, and therefore they’d be better able to study. I was my turn to be shocked, hearing this coming out of an adult!

Getting 12 kids to participate as masturbators wasn’t easy. Almost to a person, they said ‘yes’ then a day or so later they backed out. Finally, after pestering everyone in sight, I got my twelve, 8 boys, and 4 girls.

You’d think that getting the 12 control students would be easier. First, I went to the Christian club. They were amused, but informed me that Christians do masturbate, quite often, in fact. “This is not your father’s Christianity” they told me. We don’t hold wanking as a taboo.

Anyway, I got six kids from the club. After all, my control group wasn’t supposed be kids who didn’t jerk off at all. They were supposed to represent more-or-less normal kids. Finally, I also got six kids who weren’t in the club, two of which claimed that they don’t masturbate at all. All these kids had to do was fill out questionnaires about their social lives at the start and then again at the end of the six-week experiment. The masturbating group had to fill out the exact same questionnaires.

The last thing on the agenda was to find a place, since we couldn’t use any school facilities. My main counselor, Mr. Taylor, offered his guest house. This guy had inherited quite a bit of money. I believe he was a teacher by choice, not because he needed the money. His guest house was bigger than my family’s whole house, with a large, carpeted, well-furnished living room. Other school activities had been held there. He warned me that since he couldn’t be there to supervise, we’d better not leave a mess, or our use of the place would be terminated instantly. No food wrappers left on table tops, no stains on the carpet, and that sort of thing. I agreed.

The first day started out quite awkwardly. We had 10 kids, plus me as the moderator. I decided that I’d be one of the test subjects, as well. (How could I resist?) One of the boys, Jeremy, had a dental appointment on that first day.

We all gathered at Mr. Taylor’s house, and sat around on the sofas and chairs for quite a while making uncomfortable small talk. I didn’t quite know how to get the festivities under way. Fortunately, this group were all enthusiastic about what was to unfold, but not one was taking their clothes off. Kyle piped up with a suggestion, “Turn up the heat. It’s fucking cold in here.”

Oh, right, of course people would be more inclined to get naked if the room was warm. May found the thermostat and turned it up. Kendra suggested we might start with some dancing. A couple of the kids found Mr. Taylor’s stereo and CDs, and put on some music.

We started dancing. It was fun, even though there were twice as many boys as girls. Still, everyone was clothed, and the nervousness in the room was palpable. I figured out it was up to me to get things going, and if I didn’t start soon, I could feel that the people were going to start heading home, disappointed, and not likely to ever return.

I took off my shirt, so I was topless. A couple of the other boys followed my lead. Then, the magic got underway: Yvette took off her top, revealing her wonderful tits! Oh my god, I felt something like adrenaline flow through my lower stomach area. This was going to become real. Until now, I hadn’t allowed myself to fully imagine what was going to happen.

Teddy whistled, and the other boys were practically drooling. Come to think of it, I believe May was kind of drooling also. I was having trouble taking my eyes off Yvette, but when I glanced to my left, there was Sandra topless, also. Her tits were small, but absolutely beautiful.

Paul was the boldest among us, always the one to crack risqué jokes, always the life of the party in any group, always smiling, always willing to take dares, so it’s no surprise that he as casually as if he were stepping into his own home shower, he stripped totally naked in front of everyone. More than that, his little wiener, oddly still hairless, considering he was 15 years old, was sticking up at a 45 angle fully erect, and waving back and forth as he danced.

To shorten a long story, it wasn’t long before we were all naked, and all the boys were erect. The dancing kind of faded out, as we all took positions on the various chairs and couches in the room. No one was wanking at first. There were eight young erections at full attention, and four very excited young girls, but nothing was happening.

I said to myself, “OK,” took a deep breath, and started working the skin of my penis up and down. Within ten seconds, everyone else was wanking furiously.

Thinking intelligently for just a moment, I warned the boys not to get cum on the furniture. This caused May to laugh, adding, “And girls, don’t get anything wet, either!”

That first day, all the boys except Will came within a minute or two, and Will was only a couple minutes behind. The girls were all moaning and arching their backs in orgasmic delight also. Even though no one touched anyone, it was the most erotic day of my life. When I got home, I jerked off again, remembering the day, and especially the four pretty girls. Even May, with her extra-wide body, was a real looker, in my opinion.

We were obligated to meet at Mr. Taylor’s house three afternoons a week for the duration of the six-week experiment, and with great enthusiasm, almost everyone showed up all the time. There would be the occasional kid who missed a day due to a family obligation, medical exam, or maybe detention for doing something stupid in school, and they always expressed great disappointment.

I had recommended to everyone that we keep this whole thing a secret. That didn’t last long. The whole school was aware of our little group, and I was asked like a million times whether others could join. I really wanted to let them all in, but I couldn’t. It would either wreck the accuracy of the experiment, or maybe even get us all kicked out of Mr. Taylor’s guest house.

After that first day, it didn’t take us long to get really, really involved. I mean, by the end of the experiment, I had been wanked, and I had done lots of wanking of others. I had had my fingers in all the girls’ asses, and most of the boys, too. I was just loving my daily dose of fingering the various girls’ pussies. At the start, I didn’t think I’d care for oral sex at all, but after Kendra gave me that first blowjob, I was hooked. Kyle developed a strong liking for the taste of cum, so he sucked me many times. I learned to love giving cunnilingus, and fellatio, too.

However, we were all very good students. We never fucked anyone. Somehow, everyone was very good about that. Oh, there was lots of kissing and hugging going on, and two of the girls became quite steady with two of the guys, but at least in Mr. Taylor’s guest house, no one did anything in the way of fucking.

Six weeks came and went all too soon. I had all the kids from both groups fill out the questionnaires. Unfortunately, from a scientific point of view, the experiment was a failure. There were no discernible trends. I had hoped that the study would reveal that the masturbatory group was more socially settled, less frantic about sexual matters, than the other group, but the results were nearly the same for both groups, with perhaps just a slightly better outcome for the wankers.

There was only one thing to do about the nebulous results: Run the experiment again.

Trunk Full of Toys

I enjoy seeing other people have orgasms as much as i enjoy having orgasms. Maybe I’m kind of on the Asperger’s scale or something, but I’m not interested in real relationships, at least not at this time. Instead, I really enjoy doing masturbatory things with people, All sorts of people. You don’t have to be fat or thin, young or old, black or white, or even male or female to suit me. You just have to want to play orgasmically.

To that end, I have taken to carrying a dozen sex toys in the trunk of my car. I’ll meet someone at a PTA meeting, a car show, a pizza place or whatever.

[In response to a question]

What? No, I don’t go to bars. Bar hopping is for idiots.

So, here’s an example of how it works for me. I get to talking with a stranger. I maneuver the conversation into ever more intimate details. Finally, I find a place where I can admit something makes me horny. Then I admit to being so horny that I masturbate – a lot.

Almost every time, the person I’m speaking with, typically after a moment’s hesitation, admits that they masturbate a lot also. Then I’ll ask whether they’ve ever tried – whatever my current interest is. For instance, have they ever tried electro-stimulation?

When they say no, I say something like, “Geez, I happen to have one in my car. Would you like to try it out?”

90% of the time they eagerly agree. Maybe eight percent of the time, they say something like, “Um, well, maybe another time.” Sometimes I can talk them into it, but generally, I don’t. For some reason, there’s a group of people who are just too shy, but really want to, if only they’d let themselves. But trying to get them to turn around on the spot is difficult. On the other hand, if I see them again, which is common, they sheepishly bring up the topic, and sure enough, we end up naked and playing together.

Maybe two percent of the time, they get all shocked and crazy, excusing themselves from the conversation right away. That used to bother me. I felt terribly embarrassed. But now, I just feel sorry for them, and move on to the next person.

The biggest problem is time and place. Quite often they’re all for it. I can tell they’d have no problem getting naked and playing with me, but there’s a time constraint, or we have no place to do it. A couple of times I’ve rented a hotel room for an afternoon of play, and while that’s nice, it gets expensive.

One of the strangest was a thin, young, blond woman who wanted to try a skinny dildo. She claimed, and I believe her, that she had never had anything stuck in her ass. She was beautiful, and I was hard right from the start. I felt proud waving my erection around in front of her – as I usually do. I started by gently running my finger around her asshole, but not in it. Then, ever so slowly, I slipped my oiled finger in. She had an orgasm right away, and I hadn’t even touched her vagina. I thought she might be done. Because as you know, some women, like most men, are finished right after their first orgasm. But others are like the Energizer bunny. She was one of those. She wanted the finger in deeper and deeper. Then she wanted two fingers. Then the dildo. During the process, she came a dozen times. I wanted to finger her pussy too, but every time I tried, she pushed me away. She was in such anal bliss, well… I can’t even describe it. Yes, after she was done, she eagerly stuck the dildo in my butt, started to stroke my cock, and I have to admit, I came too quickly with a very strong orgasm.

There was an older fellow with a penis that had a strong upward curve. It really presented the frenulum area, so I made it a point to press a little vibrator against his frenulum. I could see by his muscle tension and everything that he was approaching ejaculation quickly, so at the last moment, I pulled the vibrator away. He came, but only a few drops. I applied the vibrator again, and after a minute, he came a couple more drops. On the fourth time, he went over the top, cumming long and hard, his cum flowing across his belly. We talked about it, and he told me that was the first time in his life he ever came more than once.

Tough Guys (And Girls) Club

The first few days of high school were confusing, as I suppose it is for most kids. This was a huge inner city school, full of kids of all colors, but I wasn’t afraid even though I was small for my age. The school had a reputation for being ‘safe.’ Plus, it didn’t hurt that my mom is a martial arts instructor. She works for big corporations, teaching women tricks to avoid and overcome attacks. From as far back as I can remember, she and I have enjoyed ‘playing,’ which was really me being taught self-defense.

None of that mattered to me. I was fourteen years old, and the only thing on my mind was girls, and jerking off, probably in the reverse order. I jerked off at least once a day, and on one day, I had wanked five times. I loved my dick, and dicks in general. Not in a gay way – I think – but just was interested in how other boys jerk off, what they feel and so on. Oh, I looked at the internet. Who doesn’t? I saw the smooth women with big tits, and that would always send me into ejaculation in no time! What can I say? I’m a big tits guy.

About a week after school started, I saw a big guy smash a smaller guy up against a locker, and throw some significant cuss words at his victim. I couldn’t help myself. As the big guy was raring up to bash the little guy again, something happened to him causing him to fall on his face. That something was me.

He got up, and started aiming for me. Now, I was scared. He was at least 50 pounds heavier than me, and had that bully look in his eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle this. He came toward me as I was frantically reviewing in my head all the moves my mom had taught me, trying to figure out what to do. He swung his big arm, fist closed, as I cringed. The blow never came. An even bigger guy had grabbed the bully in a bear hug, saying, “Not today.” The bear hug turned into a throw, as the bully was tossed thirty feet down the hallway.

I thanked the big guy who may have saved me from a bad situation. His said his name was Jason. He seemed uninterested in me, just saying,”You’re welcome,” before walking away into the crowded hallway.

A few days later, in another crowded hallway between classes, I interceded in another altercation. Two girls had gotten into a fight, and fifty other kids formed a circle around them, just watching. Well, not just watching. They were taunting and egging the two girls on. It was really quite vicious. Without thinking it through, I pushed through the crowd, and broke the two girls up, being careful not to get hurt with wild grabs and punches myself.

Soon after, I found myself breaking up yet a third fight. I once again had to apply some of the things Mom taught me to avoid getting hurt and to make sure the bully was stopped. I’m sorry to report he got a black eye out of the deal. Someone asked how I did what I did. I just said, “My mother taught me Judo.”

That afternoon, a big guy came up to me, telling me his name was Nick. He seemed friendly, but I was wary. He could be another bully trying to pick on a smaller kid. He asked me whether I thought I was a “tough guy.”

‘Oh, oh,’ I was thinking. He wants to start something. I said, “No, I’m certainly not a tough guy.”

“I think you are.”

Fuck. I was becoming worried. Not that I couldn’t probably take this guy out with martial arts, but even when you win, you lose in such situations. First, I might get physically hurt. But also, I could get punished by the school, or would start being picked on by other bullies who thought I was a fighter.

Perhaps noticing my expression, he quickly added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was actually sent to invite you to something.”

I was remembering the TV series Glee. I was literally thinking he was going to try to get me to join the glee club, or the chess club or something.

It turns out he wanted me to join the Tough Guys Club. He explained that there’s a group of guys in the school that defend against violence. It’s been a tradition in the school since 1975. That’s the reason this school is known as safe. The club isn’t exactly secret, but they do keep a low profile. He also explained that while most of the ‘tough guys’ are juniors or seniors, they could use me. They thought I could teach them the techniques they saw me use in the fights.

I was doubtful, but he talked me into attending a meeting. When I accepted, he hesitated a moment, then blushing, he said, “But there’s one thing: we meet Roman style.”

“Huh?”

“In ancient Rome, the men got together in what were called ‘baths.’ There they discussed the events of the day, they played games, and they had a good time.”

“So?”

Again he hesitated. Then he blurted out, “They were naked.”

“And so?”

Oh! I got it! These tough guys meet naked! A flood of emotions came over me. I had always wanted to be with a group of naked people. I had jerked off many times imagining myself in orgies, in circle jerks, being watched by a crowd while fucking, and so on. A group of naked guys, how cool was that? I mean, it would be even better if it were a mixed group, guys and girls, but this could be absolutely exciting in its own right. But then some sort of fear came over me, too. This was very weird, right?

So there I was, facing a decision. Right then and there, I could decline, and be saved from whatever weirdness this invitation might involve. But then, I’d miss out on what I thought was the biggest and best opportunity of my young life. I smiled at him, and accepted.

Thursday afternoon I was invited to Jason’s house. I explained I had no way to get there, and it was a long walk. Between classes, a big guy I hadn’t met came walking right up to me, then passed me a note. It said, “I’ll drive you there and back.” His name, Kevin, and phone number was on the note.

Between classes, I called my mom, and asked her if I could come home late, explaining I was trying out an after-school martial arts club. She was delighted.

I was nervous on the ride over. I asked Kevin questions about the Tough Guys Club. He was mostly talking about the history, like how they started over 40 years ago, and that the tradition had been passed down year after year. He said the school officials stay uninvolved because they know it’s a good thing, but they can’t endorse it – you know, possible lawsuits and things.

I tried to ask about the nudity and all, but I didn’t find out any details. Again that term, “Roman” came up, then he went back into history, telling me about how other inner city schools had riots and things, and how the academic standard was higher here, due in no small part to the Tough Guys.

Part of my nervousness was natural. Who wouldn’t be all freaked out about taking your clothes off with a bunch of other people? But part was due to my development, or lack thereof. I had like five or six scraggly hairs on my crotch. That’s all. I knew they’d grow in eventually, but at the moment, I looked like a child. My neighbor, on the other hand, had a full forest of hair at age eleven. Go figure!

We got there. There were twenty kids, all big kids, except me, crowded into Jason’s living room. His parents both worked evening shifts at the hospital, so the house was all ours. He explained that the parents knew about the Tough Guys Club, and supported it. In fact, his father had been a member twenty-some years before.

Two of the boys were already undressed. Fully naked, sitting on a sofa. Oh, my god: One of them was sporting a boner! He seemed oblivious, like sitting naked in a room full of boys with a boner was the most natural thing in the world. The other guys were equally unconcerned – like it was no big deal to have an erection in the group.

Everyone was talking about everything as the boys were undressing. I kind of hung back a bit taking off only my shirt. Somehow, my reputation had preceded me. Several guys came up to me asking questions about martial arts. They seemed genuinely interested, and more, they were downright friendly. Inviting. Acting as if I had always been a part of their family or something.

Now, most of the guys were fully naked, and here I was still only shirtless. I knew what I had to do. Otherwise I’d be embarrassed as a prude or something. So, I took off my clothes. When in Rome… right?

They had pushed the furniture out of the way in the large, deeply carpeted living room, and covered the floor with plastic sheeting, then bed sheets and large towels. These big kids started mock fighting. Some were throwing punches, some were wrestling. More than one was fully erect. I was delighted, but still a little scared. My heart was racing. Just what I was scared of, I don’t know. I don’t think it was that I was small and nearly hairless in a sea of big hairy guys. I think it was just the newness of the situation. For whatever it’s worth, not one of them said anything about my underdeveloped nature. I mean, they could have teased me endlessly about that. On the other hand, they could have teased the erect ones about being ‘gay’ or something. But there was no teasing at all.

Still, I was willing myself not to become erect. I somehow figured that would be a bad thing. As I was watching the fighting, I was thinking to myself, ‘It’s too bad they don’t know what I know. They’re being terribly inefficient. They’d be so much better at this if they knew a few of the moves my mom taught me.’

After watching ten minutes of all this fake fighting and tussling around on the floor, one of the guys tried to tackle me. Suddenly, I was involved in the fun free for all. Because he was large, I focused, and I guess I rolled him a little too hard. He said, “Oomph,” as he hit the floor. I didn’t hurt him, and he came up laughing. He asked, “How did you do that?”

Suddenly, no one was wrestling any more. Everyone was looking at me. Kevin, seemingly the leader of the group, asked, “Will you show us?”

I felt like a fucking movie star in that moment. A naked movie star, but still a star. This was my moment. All these big, amazing, friendly guys, and they wanted something from me. Something I could give them!

For the next hour, I was showing them some basics, and they were practicing on each other. The erections had all subsided. This was serious but fun business. The nakedness normalized in my mind. Odd, I know, but it was as if we were naked as God created us, and it was all just fine.

Kevin called for attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing and sat down on the sofa, chairs or on the floor. “Now it’s that time of the day we’ve all been waiting for. Triple-T, Tough guy Toughness Testing.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of Triple-T. It sounded like something painful, or something that I’d be able to do only painfully. I was imagining arm wrestling. It was probably going to be something like that.

For my benefit, Jason explained to the group. “As you all know, we need a way to bolster our toughness. Our resistance to pain. But we don’t want to suffer pain or risk injury in the process. Forty years ago, the founders of the club came up with a technique that fits the bill so perfectly, we still practice it today. Glans rubbing.”

I didn’t know what a glans was, but I was pretty sure ‘rubbing’ something wasn’t going to be good. Now, I wasn’t sure I should be here. But everyone was smiling. They weren’t looking like they were going to undergo some kind of test, some kind of ordeal. Oh, and something else, at least half of the kids were erect!

Before I could figure anything out, the guys started pairing off. It turns out there were an odd number of us, so I just sat there wondering what was going to happen. It took only seconds to find out.

In each pair of kids, one laid down on the sheets on the floor, and the other knelt before him. Here comes the shocking part: The kneeling guys grabbed the laying down guys’ dicks, and started putting massage oil on them. Right on their dicks! Most of the guys were hard. Those that weren’t were getting gentle little handjobs to get them erect.

Soon, everyone laying down was erect. Most of the guys kneeling or sitting next to them were also erect. What a sight to behold!

One of the sitting guys leaned over and clicked something on his phone. “OK, three minutes,” he announced.

The kneeling or sitting guys were holding the laying down guys’ dicks with one hand wrapped around their shafts. At the three-minute announcement, they began rubbing the oiled palms of their hands over the tips of the laying down guys’ dicks.

Everyone on the floor was squirming, moaning, yelling and laughing. I had no idea what they were feeling, but it was certainly intense. This went on and on. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you I had a rock-hard erection just watching this.

Toward the end of the second minute, the yelling and squirming settled down somewhat. The guys were calming down. One of the guys started grunting, and ejaculated, right there in front of me.

It was all I could do to not start masturbating right there.

Ding. The three-minute timer went off. There was a sigh of relief throughout the room.

The laying down and sitting up people changed positions.

I would have been content to just keep watching. I knew I’d be wanking big time the minute I got home after witnessing this. But a guy came over to me and said that I shouldn’t be left out of the fun. I couldn’t have agreed more.

I took my position on the floor.

“Three minutes” was announced.

My big guy started gently rubbing my rock-hard, but little cock. At the very moment he started, it was nearly unbearable. I had no idea! I’m sure you, dear reader, have experienced this, but I hadn’t until then. What a crazy tickle. Not pain, as you know, but un-fucking-bearable. But kind of sexy, too. I knew what I had to do. I had to lay there and take it.

Now, I suppose I could have refused, or gotten up off the floor or something, but I knew that would mark me as a sort of looser. I’ll bet these guys would have accepted that, but there was no way I’d give up. I had to handle it, no matter what.

And it was hard – I mean difficult. I was hard, erect as I had ever been in my life, and in terrible anguish. Yet, wonderful anguish, if that makes any sense. Pretty soon, the feeling shifted. It wasn’t quite as unbearable, and started to feel like I was going to involuntarily pee, or ejaculate – at the same time. I had never felt such a thing.

Now, the ‘gonna cum’ feeling was building up more and more, but I still had to pee, too. I was going to ejaculate. There was nothing I could do about it.

“Ding.”

The big guy let go of my penis. I was so close to cumming that it actually pulsed a couple of times, but nothing came out.

We switched roles. Now I was sitting next to my big guy. Three minutes was announced, and I went to work. It was the first time I had wrapped my fingers around such a big cock. It felt amazing. I hadn’t realized how warm another guy’s penis could be. How soft the skin was, and how hard it was inside. As I started in on the glans rubbing. His face contorted all up, he squirmed, he moaned, but he didn’t quit on me. No, instead, he ejaculated all over my hands. I was delighted to see so much cum. It was thick and white, and there was a lot of it. Not clear and just a couple of drops of clear liquid like mine. I looked forward to the day when I could cum like that.

All in all, it was the best afternoon of my life.

We met every Thursday, and I was always so up for it, literally. Sometimes I’d end up ejaculating, mostly not. Some of the guys let out involuntary streams of pee. That was always problematic, because we could not, absolutely could not, get anything on the carpet. The sheets could soak it mostly up, but still, we had to be careful.

In time, I grew bigger, topping out at 5’11” with a reasonable six-inch penis, and a nice forest of hair on my crotch. Perhaps to make up for my late start, I grew a mustache, then a bit of a beard when I was only seventeen.

One day started out like all the others, but then Jason wanted to discuss something. The group was considering a girl. Suki was her name. She was of Samoan descent. She was rounded but not fat. She was also quite tall. She was a fighter, but always as a defender, not an instigator. She was a good fit for the club, other than being female.

I was all in favor of adding females. My heart was racing, thinking about having a naked girl among us. I was wondering how a girl would participate in glans rubbing. We had a vote. To my astonishment, it was unanimous, even the outspokenly gay guys were in favor. I suppose it does make sense. Why on Earth would we exclude females if they could be ‘tough guys’ also?

The first meeting with Suki was awkward at first. We all kept all our clothes on. Fortunately, Suki is a gregarious individual. She simply said, “I know you guys all get naked. Don’t let me stop you,” and with that, she lifted up her T-shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her pendulous brown breasts with jet black nipples were amazing. I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough. Same with the other guys. Everyone was naked within a minute, even Suki. She was beautiful – I mean to me. Some might say she was too heavyset, but I wasn’t complaining! She also shaved her crotch hair, as did some of the guys. Pretty much all the guys, including the gay ones, were erect. Maybe their erections were due to seeing their male buddies reacting to this female. I don’t know. I was just happy to be here in heaven.

We wrestled for a while. There were more erections than normal. Suki took it all in stride, as if play fighting with naked and erect guys is just another ordinary activity.

Then it was time for the Triple-T. No one knew quite how to proceed. There was a long moment of awkward silence.

Suki broke the silence. “Now, from what my brother has told me,” Suki began, quickly explaining that he didn’t tell her anything about the ritual until after she had been confirmed as a member, “you guys have some sort of test…”

One of the guys started telling her the details. He was blushing severely. She interrupted him. “I already know, I’m all in.”

“Now, I can’t speak for all women, but I don’t think we have an exact equivalent of glans rubbing. However, after we orgasm, there is such a thing as too much clit rubbing. I think that may be similar. I’d love to experience that.”

I just can’t tell you how lucky I was to be paired with Suki that day. I was the first ever to rub her to multiple orgasms, and then keep going, causing her to moan, squirm and scream with the rest of us.

When it was my turn, I came almost immediately. I really tried not to, but the moment her hefty fingers wrapped around my penis, I knew the effort was useless. I ejaculated within the first thirty seconds. She was delighted, claiming this is the first time she had seen sperm in person. She cautiously licked some from her fingers, said ‘yum’ and then licked more off her hand.

By the time I had graduated from high school, the tough guys were almost half female. The school won a national award for being the school with the least number of violent incidents.

Too Fast

Threesome with Lydia, Gary and Lance to cure premature ejaculation

My first boyfriend, Gary, had something that I didn’t realize was so important: Staying power. He could fuck me for an hour if he wanted, then he’d cum only while I was orgasming. It was wonderful. The problem was he became more interested in my sister than me.

We were all too polite and considerate to do anything about it, but we all knew. The two of them never got together in consideration of what he and I had. Except one day, it just came out in a tearful conversation between him and I. I think he was crying more than I was, because he really didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

Strangely, I wasn’t all that hurt. I just missed the sex after he and my sister hooked up. I was happy for her that she was getting what I got.

It wasn’t long before I started dating Lance. He’s my landlord, and a super-sweet guy. I mean my first boyfriend was a very kind and gentle person also, but my landlord was on a whole ‘nother level of kindness. At 29, Kyle was 7 years older than me when we started getting serious. Here’s the thing: Lance is wonderful in all ways, except he was lousy in bed.

Lance is a trip. Somehow, during his high school years, he got it in his mind that he was going to be a real estate mogul. Except jokingly he refers to himself as a ‘slumlord.’ He saved for a down payment and bought his first place, a broken down old duplex a month before he graduated. He says he learned a lot while fixing it up, and by mid-summer, while still living with his parents, he had it rented out to two families.

It didn’t take him long to buy another duplex, then a triplex, then a couple of stand-alone houses, and a couple more duplexes. Right now, he has 34 rental units, some of which are entirely paid off. Lance’s motto is “Good housing for good people.” And he means it. He sets ten percent of his profit aside to cover the rent for any tenants who get into financial trouble so he doesn’t have to kick them out. He goes the extra mile in repainting, repairing, replanting, whatever it takes to keep his places nice. Lance still does most of his own maintenance, even though he could easily hire someone. He like that part. He does have someone helping with property management, but he does some of that too.

But that’s not what you want to hear about. The situation is that he can’t seem to last. I mean, when we get together sexually, he cums almost immediately, rolls over, then wants to go to sleep. Oh, he realizes I still want an orgasm, so he’ll finger me, or lick me until I cum, but it’s not like real sex. I mean, yes, we fuck, but it’s over in a heartbeat and it’s just, well, terrible, to tell you the truth.

Lance showed me one of his saws once, a saber-saw. It goes in and out real fast. I had to laugh, because it totally reminds me of his idea of intercourse.

My idea, what I used to have with Gary, is a super comfy feeling. You girls, those who aren’t virgins, I mean, you know. You like being held close and fulfilled. You like your cunt filled with a loving warm cock, and have it stay that way for a while. It’s like cinnamon rolls in the toaster oven. They’re in there, heating up, and you know eating them is going to be so nice when they’re ready. But it takes a while, right?

Despite the whole sexual problem, I married Lance. I mean, he’s such a sweet guy, who could resist? He’s good on the eyes too, at just over 6 feet tall, with curly hair and a trimmed beard to match.

Our one-year anniversary was coming up, and sweet Lance asked me what I wanted. I told him.

You’ve gotta understand: I’m bold. I ask for what I want. I say what I think. And I believe, I hope, people respect me for that. So I told him I wanted to spend our anniversary evening with him finally learning how to properly fuck me. Furthermore, I told him, there may be a surprise in the evening, but he’d just have to trust me.

He said he was happy to comply. I should point out that his one good sexual kink is that he loves the idea of unconventional relationship activities. It’s always just been a fantasy, but more than once he’s talked about ‘accidental’ sexual situations, three-ways, and bisexuality, so I knew my crazy plan wouldn’t be terrible for him. It might even be a great delight.

The morning of our anniversary, we exchanged small gifts, plus he brought flowers, something he does quite often. My stomach was all flutters for the rest of the day as we went off to work. Him, to visit some tenants and replace a water heater. Me, to my job as a speech therapist. I love that work. To see a child master proper speaking habits is a real joy.

Oops, I’m getting off track again.

Evening came. Lance and I ate a nice dinner. Right on time, at 7pm, the doorbell rang, and as expected Gary was standing there at the door.

Lance was like, “What’s he doing here?”

He had met Gary, and rather liked the guy, but one could tell there was a bit of competitiveness or some sort of spikey energy between them. At least from Lance. I don’t think Gary was at all feeling anything negative toward Lance.

“You’ll see,” was all I could manage to say.

I had been planning this evening for weeks, but I didn’t have it fully orchestrated. Gary was aware of the plan. Lance was not.

I got them into a game of strip blackjack. It took some doing to get Lance involved, but a sideways glance from me and a whispered reminder that he said he’d do whatever I wanted was all it took.

I’m sure by the second or third hand when we were all missing the odd shoe and a sock or two, Lance must have had a general idea. I have to say what a good sport he was to play along, and not balk or complain in any way. But, Lance is like that. He’s always happy to make me happy.

Unfortunately, the game didn’t turn out very even. The guys were losing more clothing than I was. Gary was down to his underwear, and lost the next hand. He pulled off his jockeys to reveal an already erect penis.

I looked over at Lance and saw something I wasn’t quite expecting. It was a look of something like terror mixed with huge disappointment. What was he thinking? I have no idea, but I’m guessing it was something like, “This might be the end of my relationship. She’s going to rejoin Gary.”

It was time for me to explain. Abandoning the game and shucking off the rest of my clothing right in front of my husband and former lover, which by the way, is not easy to do when you have body dysmorphia like I do, I started talking.

Yes, body dysmorphia. Everyone tells me I’m pretty good to look at, but I’m pretty sure my legs are too long, my neck is too skinny, and my boobs hang down. I really like the look of those women who have pronounced tits, but not so big that they flop against their lower chest like mine do.

What I quickly and inexpertly explained to Lance is that Gary and I were going to show him how to fuck properly. Then we’d coach him in doing it. I blurted it out with not a little trepidation. The fact was, I was shaking. Shivering as if it was cold in the room when actually it was rather warm, and I was trying hard to keep my voice from shaking.

Now, how was Lance going to react? It takes a lot to get him angry, but might this do it? Might he storm out of the room, and hate me forever?

I didn’t have long to wait. Lance sat there looking dumbfounded for a moment, but then brightened into a big smile, and simply said, “Really!”

How cool is that? He was on-board with it!

We retired to our bedroom, and pretty soon, Gary and I were rolling all over the bed, kissing and hugging, while Lance just sat in a chair idly watching. I couldn’t help noticing that Lance’s thing was rock hard sticking up out of his lap. He started idly touching the tip of his cock, when Gary kindly said, “No, Lance, wait. We don’t want you cumming too soon.”

Lance let go of his cock right away.

The foreplay was coming to a close and it was about time for Gary to put it in me. Lance interrupted, asking whether he was going to put on a condom. I explained it wouldn’t be necessary, since I had only been with two guys ever in my life, and both of those guys were virgins when we met. You see, Gary was young when I met him and hadn’t been with any women. Lance was too busy building his mini-empire to date anyone. So there was no chance of passing any STDs. Furthermore, it was the safest time of the month for me.

We decided to do it doggie style so Lance could get the best view. I was on all fours on the bed while Gary stuck it in from behind. I should define ‘stuck.’ I mean to say he put it in very slowly and gently. Now, his penis is a bit smaller than Lance’s, but somehow, it’s more fulfilling. Maybe because that’s because it has always been so long-lasting and secure in me.

We fucked quite a while, and finally the time came when I was breathing hard, and kind of having involuntary muscle reactions, and felt that super amazing lower body feeling. I’m sure Gary could read the details of my impending orgasm, so he stepped it up a bit, now pushing so hard in and out of me that I was in danger of having my arms collapse dropping me face-first on the bed. I held out, screaming in orgasm, as Gary grunted, and finished his business at just the right time.

I looked at Lance to see how he was taking it. He was all smiles, and his cock was as erect as I had ever seen it.

Gary was the first to speak. “I have been instructed,” he proclaimed, glancing at me, “to help you overcome premature ejaculation. I think I’ve got some ideas. Lay down, face up, here on the bed.”

Lance did as he was told, still smiling big, with his penis idly waving in the air as he took the position.

“Now, your wife is going to hold and stroke your penis. You are not to cum. If you feel you are getting close, say something. Say ‘Wait,’ and she’ll back off for a little while, then build you up again.”

I sat cross-legged on the bed and started working Lance’s cock. It was quickly obvious he wouldn’t be able to hold out. He was on the verge of orgasming the moment I touched it. I spent more time not touching at all than anyone wanted. It was becoming like a meditation session or something.

Gary interrupted. “I see that you are still too excited. What would happen if I take over for your wife?”

Before Lance could object, Gary was cupping his balls in one hand, and just holding his penis in the other. Whereas Gary identifies as bisexual, Lance doesn’t at all. As you might expect, Lance started losing his erection. It only lasted for a couple of minutes. As Gary did any little thing, like let go of Lance’s balls, or change his grip on his penis, Lance started hardening up agin. Pretty soon, he was hard all the way, and it was becoming obvious he wouldn’t last long before blowing cum.

“I’ve got another idea,” Gary piped up. “Butt-fuck me.”

“What?” Lance practically screamed.

“I want you to butt-fuck me. It should work that if I’m not attractive to you, being a guy and all, you can stick that thing of yours in me, and you might just last a while.”

I can’t tell you how excited and horny I was at that moment. To see what I was pretty sure I was about to see was a dream come true that I didn’t even know I had.

“No,” was Lance’s response.

Acting disappointed, Lance asked, “Why?”

“Because it’s gay.”

“So what? I mean, what’s wrong with that? And is it guy if you’re married, and you’re doing it right here in front of your wife, and you’re doing it strictly as an exercise to make things better with your wife?”

There was a long silence.

Finally, softly, Lance said, “OK.”

His penis was totally small and soft.

Gary started gently massaging Lance’s balls, which I thought was a bit weird, but it did the trick. Lance was rock-hard within a minute.

Gary got on the bed in the same position I had been in, on all fours. Lance, seemingly reluctantly, got behind him, and started pushing the tip of his penis against Gary’s asshole.

My eyes must have been as big as saucers. I was riveted. I was in love with both of these guys for giving me such a show!

He pushed, and Gary grunted. It wasn’t working.

“We need lube,” Gary told me.

I went into the kitchen and came back with some coconut butter. Lance grabbed it, stuck his finger is, rubbed it around, then casually applied it to Gary’s whole anal region as casually as if he were lubricating a bicycle chain. Then he pressed a finger slowly but directly into Gary’s ass. I was surprised that he wasn’t bulking or carrying on. Could it be Lance was enjoying this new experience?

A moment later found him trying again. Gary grunted a couple of times, and the next thing you know, Lance was all the way in. He started going in and out. Fast. Like the fucking saber-saw.

“Woah, Big Boy,” Gary quickly said.

But it was too late. Lance had orgasmed. So had I, just from watching. Well, I guess I hadn’t noticed, but I had been rubbing my clit while watching those two guys.

Whenever Lance and I had sex, such as it was, he was done as soon as he ejaculated. I was expecting nothing different this time. But I was so wrong! Shortly after pulling out of Gary, Lance came over to me, and wordlessly, he hugged pressed me down onto the bed, hugged me, and pressed his still-hard penis into me.

And again with the high-speed saber-saw. I asked him to slow down, which he did. Lo and behold, he went a whole five minutes before cumming in me. This was a new world record.

The evening was a spectacular success. In summary, Gary and Lance had experienced gay anal intercourse for the first time. It was the first time Lance had ever cum twice in a single session, and we figured out the magic: Lance needs to cum twice.

In the months that followed, that became our routine which we loved very much. Lance and I would do some kissing and some foreplay. I still couldn’t blow him unless we were OK with him cumming right away in my mouth. But I could massage his balls, run my fingers over his whole ass, maybe even stick a finger in his ass, and stroke his penis. At least a little bit. I still had to pay attention so he wouldn’t ejaculate too soon. Still, he always did cum too soon anyway. But that’s when the good part started. Right away, before going soft, he’d stick it in me, and we’d fuck like an ordinary couple until we orgasmed. Yes, I said ‘we.’ We didn’t always simultaneously orgasm, and sometimes he was just too spent after cumming once, and sometimes he’d squirt again all too soon, and sometimes I came too soon or too late, but we did have our occasional simultaneous orgasms.

I did some reading and found out some things. My early experience with Lance was more typical than my time with Gary. It seems that with literally the majority of couples, the man orgasms before the women. I also found out that a great many women can’t orgasm from ordinary intercourse. They need finger or tongue stimulation. How weird is that? Or, I guess that’s normal, and I’m weird.

We had no repeat sessions with the three of us, and of course I stayed faithful to Lance. Lance did calm down around Gary and the two of them even went on a two-day camping trip once. I wanted so much to know whether they did anything, but they weren’t volunteering, and I was too polite to ask.

Finally, about a month later, Lance sheepishly told me that Gary had butt-fucked him, and he enjoyed it.

I was so surprised, and shocked, and suddenly horny, that I had to be Lance-fucked right away. In fact, that very evening, I got myself butt-fucked for the first time in my life. Even though Lance was slow and careful, it hurt a bit at first. Soon it turned around, the pain was gone and I wanted all the length and girth than his slightly above-average dick had to offer. Now I know why the gay guys enjoy it so much!

Tony and Anne By The Pool

I had met Tony recently. I knew he, like I, was married with grown kids. I hadn’t met his wife yet.

I thought I knew him well enough to drop by his house unannounced. Friends can do that, right?

So, I drove over and rang the doorbell. His wife answered. What a knockout! She’s Asian and petite. I’ve always been attracted to small women, and Asian women! Her name is Anne. She told me to go around back, Tony was by the pool.

It made sense, it was a hot Saturday afternoon. I was thinking, as I walked along the side of the house toward the back yard, ‘How lucky, Tony and Anne have a pool.’ I wished my wife, Lorie, and I had one.

I came around the corner of the house, and saw the concrete area surrounding the pool, and the pool itself with a big inflatable toy idly floating on the water. But I didn’t see Tony – at first.

My gaze went to some loungers by the side of the pool, and there was Tony, laying in one of them. At that moment, I quickly decided I should turn and sneak away quickly and quietly. Because, you see, Tony was not only stark naked, but masturbating a very erect penis!

As I started to turn, Tony yelled, “Oh, Hello Tom. So nice of you to drop by!”

Now, I couldn’t just sneak away. I felt like I was caught. Caught with my pants down. How weird is that? I mean, I catch the guy jerking off, and I’m the one who feels trapped, embarrassed!

What could I do? Hesitantly, I turned back toward Tony and took a step closer.

“Oh Tom, it’s fine, I was just jerking off. No need to run off like that,” he laughed.

Then he added, “Why don’t you join me?”

What in the world does one do in such a circumstance? Of course I’d masturbated a thousand times. I was no stranger to the activity. But with another guy? Never!

My mind was racing. What should I do? What should I do? It all happened in a moment. My logical mind said there was nothing wrong with it. Really, what’s wrong with masturbating with a friend? But there was my whole upbringing fighting against me. Wasn’t nudism generally wrong? What about the church? My religion, I mean? What does it teach about this? Trying hard to figure it out, I realized there was nothing bad about wanking with a friend. Why, just a month or so ago in church, the preacher, mostly directing his sermon to some of the youngsters in the congregation, alluded that masturbation was an acceptable alternative to premarital sex. I was almost shocked at the time, but I knew that he was helping the kids by saying that.

Well, I couldn’t just walk away. To say something, anything, wouldn’t work. Like, “Hey Tony, I see you’re busy.” Nope. Or, “Oh my God!” No, that wouldn’t work either.

I must have looked ridiculous approaching the empty lounge chair next to him so slowly. Tony just smiled – and continued stroking his erection. I couldn’t help myself. I glanced, then I stared. Then, catching myself staring at his hand working on his penis, I tried looking away, but that wasn’t quite right either. Like, I was obviously trying to look away. Geez!

It took me a full two minutes, but finally my Sandals, T-shirt, shorts and underwear came off, and I was in the lounger next to my friend. My penis, however, stayed soft.

Frankly, looking back on it, I found the scene surprisingly erotic. This was some serious ice-breaking. To be able to jerk off with a male friend was something I had sort of fantasized about, but here it was becoming real. But it also scared the bejeepers out of me. Why, I don’t know exactly. Maybe it was because his wife might catch us. Or a neighbor. But, no, there was a tall fence all the way around the yard. And Anne, well I guess she knew what her husband was doing out here. Or did she? Hell, I had no idea. But what if Anne caught me? Would that be right? My mind was still spinning. Meanwhile, after stroking my soft noodle next to Tony for a while, it was starting to stiffen up.

Tony had been saying some stuff, but I barely heard it through the noise going on in my brain. I pieced back together what he was saying, “Nice cock, Tom. I’m so glad you decided to drop by.”

I was thinking how totally accepting he was. And more, he hadn’t even flinched when I showed up. I mean, if I was caught wanking in my own back yard by a new friend, I’d probably run screaming into the house.

I was starting to get that ‘gonna cum’ feeling, so I slowed down. I wanted this to last. Evidently, Tony was quite good at edging, since he had been wanking before I arrived, and was still wanking away, evidently in no hurry, and without a care in the world.

Suddenly, the sliding glass door on the back of the house slid open. Adrenaline shot through my system. Anne appeared carrying a tray. What was I supposed to do? Should I grab my underpants and put them back on? No time for that. Should I go somewhere? Do something? What? Talk about a deer in the headlights! I was totally frozen, still with my hand on my erect penis, but I had stopped stroking.

“I thought you boys would enjoy some lemonade,” she said as she approached us with the tray, handing me a glass, and the other glass to Tony. To accept the glass, I had to take my hand off my penis. I accepted the glass, my penis standing straight up in the slight but warm breeze. Tony and Anne acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

What could possibly happen next? Might she take off her dress and join us? Wouldn’t that be something? But it didn’t happen. She returned to the house with her empty tray.

Tony and I talked a bit about tennis of all things as we sipped our lemonade. He kept stroking with his other hand. I followed his lead. The distraction of the drinks kept us away from orgasming. After we had finished the drinks and talked a bit more, Tony started tensing up and grunting. I was able to witness several shots of white semen shooting out of his penis and onto his belly.

I’ve always liked cumshots in porn. I don’t know why. So, naturally, that set me off, and I started ejaculating also.

Afterward, we toweled off the sperm, and then jumped in the pool. While soaking in the deliciously cool water, we talked a bit more. This time, it wasn’t about tennis. It was about sex and masturbation. “Oh, yes,” Tony informed me, “Sometimes Anne joins me out by the pool. We do have sex, but more often, we really enjoy masturbating side by side.”

He went on to tell me this was the first time she had seen another man jerking off with her husband. Tony suspected she really enjoyed seeing that, and suggested I should come by more often. He even went so far as to say she might join us. I asked whether my wife was invited.

“Hell yes!” was his answer.

That excited me in more ways than I can say. Lorie is adventurous, and might just go for this. Plus, she’s a real looker with her tall, slim body and beautiful red hair. I’d like Anne and Tony to see her in all her glory.

I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Lorie about my interesting afternoon.