“I wanna fuck you like an animal… I wanna fuck you from the inside…”
Trent Reznor & NIN. Closer
“I wanna fuck you like an animal… I wanna fuck you from the inside…”
Stumbling home at half-five, minus person or persons on arm, still awake and sober, craving another drink, another dance… Backstage, groupie-like, but not. Raided the mini-bar at home.
It gets curiouser and curiouser this growing up thing.
“Blood red nails does not a harlot make.”
…was last night, when the sexiest band manager in the world just smothered me with sperm and his rockstar partner walked in on my spent nakedness.
Are meant to lie in, make love, chatter, eat pizza in bed, snuggle, wake again to lovemaking, plot to take over the world, give back rubs, shower together, shop for books and sneakily kiss behind bookshelves, walk in the rain blissfully happy even though hopelessly lost, tell tall tales to outdo the other, read verses of poetry to the other, write poetry for the other, lick jam off fingers, munch on kit kat, watch movies back to back in bed on a small computer, sleepily kiss goodnight… Today isn’t one of those days.
“Did you never wonder why I’d slow down while inside you? I love how you’d arch and throw your head back in ecstasy, eyes shut, mewing in contentment. But I had to stare into your eyes - look at how much you wanted me, watch you silently plead to go on… And one part of me saw love in your eyes…”
In the Jim boy’s cold marble bathroom, the temperature being close to 2 degrees, we made out like teenage schoolkids with raging hardons against the ice cold marble.
I remember going down on him while on my knees on the chilly floor, gasping every time I came up for air, half afraid we would be found out by his parents.
I did finish him up and swallowed all of his cum, wiping the smile of my face as the pain and blue bruises of the stone floor finally seeped through my awareness. That was very scary and very very arousive.
Remember the time when I helped you pack? Or was it unpack? I just remember how shamelessly naked I was, and how distracted you were. And the crazy sex against the wall, cupboard, just by the bed, on the bed, bent over the bed with my pants bunched around my ankles, and standing up with you against the wall. I don’t remember packing after that, but I do remember being woken up with your cock gently teasing me, already forcing yourself into a barely awake me.
“Mornings are for languid loving, mixed with bad breath and after-coffee.”
Even though I’m wary of the big bad “interwebs”, a major turn on is being videoed when fucking. Even sexier is taking pictures, reviewing, then coupling frantically. Separation from various lovers led me to the odd world of “videoconference fornication”.
I know the technical term is “virtual sex” but fuck that. I like my term better. Stripping for a selective lover is a weird feeling - he’s miles away, and watching his cock grow hard just for me, is a sight to behold!
What’s hot - Knowing that he’s been watching me take my tiny little pink boyshorts off, which makes him explode in orgasm, makes me feel… like his personal porn star. And that gets me very very horny. Solution? I get it off with the cute pink bunny dildo he got me as a going away present. Watching me use it drives him crazier. (Watching me use it drives the other boys crazy too, especially if they are in the same room with me, tied up ;))
Verdict: I’m hooked. If you’ve not tried this, go for it. I’m sure Google will help you with “How Tos”.
(Source: videoconferencefornication)