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The Big Tease

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 28 Jul 1997 1 comments
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by Jay You're doing a great site here! Guess I think so 'cause it's dedicated to my favorite way of getting off (or getting someone off). Just on the chance that someone else is really into this kind of scene I figured I'd talk about one of the hottest mutual j/o contacts I've ever experienced -- one that I sure wouldn't mind doing again ANYTIME! Any early 20's to 30's guys (I'm early 40's) who wanna fool around this way can e-mail me at vetteguy@earthlink.net if they're here in Southern California. This happened several years ago. I swear the whole thing is true. I was out for the evening at one of my favorite bars and a pretty nice-looking guy, mid-20's, college jock type, came over and struck up a conversation. Over a couple of beers he said he really liked playing around with businessman/dad types (I guess that describes me pretty well). Nothing serious, just some hot sack-time. I was starting to think about inviting him home right then but he beat me to the suggestion by asking if I'd like to get together the next afternoon (Saturday) so we could have some fun when we were well-rested. Hey, who am I to question dumb luck -- of course I agreed. We exchanged phone numbers and left it at that. Well he did call the next morning and asked if he could come over. I was looking forward to seeing him and we agreed on 1:00. When he showed up I thought I'd lose a load just looking at him. He had really dressed to kill -- a tank top chopped at the ribs, very well-worn cutoffs, gym socks and beat-up Reeboks. Not a lot of hair above the waist, but great moderately hairy legs. And nobody could argue with the view those old cutoffs provided front and rear -- this was one guy who was meant to be seen in tight worn-out jeans ALL the time. I was living at the beach then, so we went for a walk before going in. Talked about nothing in general and smooched a couple of times (he turned out to be a great kisser and running my hands over him was doing amazing things to my crotch). He finally said he really needed to get his hands on me and we headed back to the house; he grabbed a small gym-bag out of his car and we went inside. Back in my bedroom he said he'd been fantasizing about doing one of his favorite scenes with me and hoped I'd get into it. He had me strip and kick back on the bed semi-reclining -- back and shoulders against the headboard. He took off just his top and his shoes (for the moment) and showed off his great look a bit. It was pretty obvious that I liked what I saw and I was reaching for my dick when he said that he'd like it if only he could work on my cock while we were playing. I agreed. He went and got a couple of hand towels from the bath and from his gym bag brought out a bottle of lube and a bottle of poppers. He got onto the bed and settled himself, cross-legged, between my legs and positioned my legs so they kind of wrapped around behind his back. He handed me the poppers and said he would tell me when to use them. He then started letting drops of lube fall onto my hard dick while he looked at me and asked what was the longest, slowest, most intense handjob I'd ever had. I admitted that no one had ever showed me what a really intense jacking by another guy could be like -- I admitted, too, that I had tried to do it to and with some guys who didn't want to use j/o as the central activity so generally my fantasies had been left unfulfilled. He broke out in a great smile and said he thought maybe he'd be able to make the fantasy real. He said I should keep my eyes on his and not look down. I did, and below felt the incredible sensation as he began to spread the lube over my cock and then gently and very slowly start to stroke it. He brought me up to steel hardness, glancing down himself occasionally to see the results but not allowing me to look. He'd smile as my eyes would narrow, my head would fall back and I'd sound off good and loud as the stimulation built up to extreme intensity. Then he'd back off, let everything calm down for a moment and then start all over again. He introduced me to all of his favorite strokes -- he had names for each of them and would start doing each to see what my reaction was, then tell me the name, then tell me how it was done. I was not to look down to see him doing it, just was supposed to visualize it with my mind's eye. We went through his whole list of them this way. We had to stop halfway through 'cause I was getting way too close to cumming -- he took the moment to shed his cutoffs which, in turn, showed just how turned on he was by the whole thing. After another short break he returned to his position and said we were now going to use all those strokes for an hour. He would not tell me which one he was using as he changed to it -- I was to guess. If I guessed right he'd let me look down to watch him doing it to me for a short time before I would look back up and lock eyes with him again. He would tell me, at various times, to take a hit of poppers just before he started on one or another of the stroke styles. His technique was awesome. Whether he was teasing the head with a circle of his thumb and index finger or slowly swirling the entire length from base to tip with his whole fist he knew exactly how much lube and what kind of pressure and speed to use to max out the feeling without pushing me too far toward shooting. He knew how to alternate something really intense (polishing the head with his palm) with something pushing me toward orgasm (what he called the "endless tunnel", hand over hand downstrokes from head to base) until I was practically lifting off the bed. His timing was unbelievable -- he'd tell me to take a hit of poppers, and then knew how long to wait until the rush was just starting to hit so he could start a stroke that would make me see stars. And he knew just when to bring me down for a breather, and then just what kind of sensation would bring me way back up when he started in again. And he had great timing when he'd tell me to look down and watch him work on me for a moment, then tell me to look back up at him before the visual could combine with the sensory and push me over the edge. It must have been about two hours after we first hit the bed that he said he wanted to see me cum. He said he knew, now, which stroke would bring me off the slowest and with the most intensity. He started using it on me and when I was about two-thirds of the way there, he stopped. He let me come back down a bit, then started again, this time telling me to take a hit of poppers. Three fourths of the way there he stopped again, smiling. We repeated this several times, each a bit closer to shooting but not quite there. Always his smile, his soft words "maybe next time -- ready?". I was totally drifting on this progressive and seemingly continuous orgasm as he started up again and the poppers were taking over when he smiled at me even more broadly and said, "OK, this time!" And he brought me very slowly over the edge with such intensity that I literally screamed when I came. I must have shot about a gallon and it went everywhere despite his efforts to aim it and confine it. He kept up the stroke until my cum was totally spent and I had collapsed back against the headboard. When I started to recover a few minutes later he was gently stroking me all over. He said, "let's take a break, get something to eat, and then you can do me the same way." We did, we did, and I did. We had many more Saturday afternoons like this through the rest of that summer and fall. When I recover from telling this story (always has a heavy-duty effect on me) I'll write about what it was like to work on him. More to, uh, cum? Jay