Expanding Whorizons

It is impossible not to want you when I see you.  Impossible not to be moved to want to touch you, stroke you skin, kiss your lips, hold you in my arms.  I revel in the way you feel, and smell, and taste.  Some of my fondest memories are kneeling at your feet, head cradled in your lap while I inhale your scent.  I can feel the heat of you, pressed against my cheek while you stroke my hair.  Slowly, I start to stroke my cheek against the growing hardness I find there.  Heat, hardness… It’s a tease, a taste of things to come.  Slowly, still on my knees, I move until I’m in front of you, hands on both of your thighs.  Looking up, I see your face, your eyes half closed slits as you watch me.  It’s not a sleepy look, but one of intensity.  You watch my every move.  With our eyes locked on each other, I slide closer, hands moving until they cup the hardness that’s grown – hardness that speaks to me of how much you enjoy this, and how much joy you’re about to bring me.  I knead the crotch o

Without really understanding why, I stopped in at a local bar that I rarely frequented these days.  I could say I was thirsty, but who ‘really’ goes to a bar just to slake their thirst?  I suppose, if you expand your definition of thirst, it might be closer to the truth.  Hadn’t been out in what felt like years, though really was only a couple of months.  Bar’s in the city, I’m in the ‘burbs.  It tends to cater to a clientele affecting an intentionally hyper-masculine demeanor.  What can I say, the smell of leather can be an heady scent. Up front, I will admit that I dabble more than embrace the leather lifestyle.  I attribute it to the ‘moth/flame’ mentality – the intensity of leather sex is incredibly sexy to me.  I’m both titillated and terrified.  That smell – of warm leather – took me back to an experience I had years ago.  Let me be clear here – I don’t not judge those into leather, in a way I envy them that they've found a place in the universe in which they fit. I liv

It happened like so many other stories.  I’d been a fan of his work for a while.   We met at a weekend event and I finally got up enough nerve to chat with him in the elevator.  Just a couple of words, a brief acknowledgment that I knew who he was.  I didn’t want to intrude.  Later that evening, another quick chat, a photo.  Cuter in person than I imagined he’d be.  Throughout the weekend, I tried to keep track – surreptitiously – of where he might be.  The fact that we were at the same events, not really a surprise – it was a well planned out weekend for attendees.  I tried not to be that ‘hanger on’ that seems to be prevalent at events like this.  The sycophant that can’t help but get on so many people’s nerves.  Last day of the weekend, a charity auction.  An early auction, won, an intriguing opportunity – fueled by a few too many beers – to show how much I enjoyed his work.  “How’s your weekend been?” “I’ve been looking for someone to deep throat me, actually.” “Well, I’m kin

I love that feeling when I’ve just gotten a haircut, the way my hair bristles when I stroke my hand up the back of my head. So soft to the touch. I imagine it’s your hand. I imagine you’re touching me with affection. I imagine the contented feelings it would bring. I imagine leaning into you, while you gently stroke my hair. Sex has always been about approval to me. Undoubtedly, a therapist might have something to say about that. Sex is never just about my pleasure – hell, if I wanted to feel good, I know how to do that. For me sex is as much, no more, about the pleasure I can bring someone else. Yes, it’s about approval, but it’s also gaining a sense of pleasure, and accomplishment, in having your partner enjoy what you’re doing. Sex is not just about the dick, the cock, the junk. It’s about the touch, the caress, the kiss. Hard to be a died-in-the-wool sensualist and not have it come across as romantic. Sex has also always been about losing myself in the moment. That would be

It dawned on me last evening just how much I’d been shirking my responsibilities both in terms of my blog, and the exploration that premeditated it. To that end I submit the following. Clearly it had been a while since I’d opened the toy box. I was a bit concerned – not sure why. Perhaps I had this thought that, without practice, I’d be starting from scratch – so to speak. I admit that the experience was a bit challenging. I spent the day out with a friend, first wandering the shopping district of a small town near us, then wandering the campus of my alma mater. Not sure what really drove me to visit my college, other than proximity. It was a beautiful albeit hot day. I feel like I got a good workout. I dropped my friend off at his place, and decided that I needed to take some time for me. Not sure where my head has been, but it’s not been in an experimental or a sexual mood. I tried to put that behind me, and opened the drawer in which I’ve taken to keeping my toys. I chose a

“That’s good, Dad.  You’ve got me wet, and loose.  It’s time.” I realize that, what little talking we’ve done has been in hushed tones.  Almost like we’re afraid to break whatever spell we’re under.  Slowly, I move away from you.  Dismounting, if you will.  I stand by the side of the bed, looking at you.  You look vulnerable, and turned on.  I reach forward and move your briefs down.  You don’t hesitate this time to lift up so I can remove them entirely.  I see you move your legs apart, just slightly.  I know it’s to give you better leverage.  I’m naked, and hard, and precum is drooling from my dick.  I turn, and you’re looking at me just like I had been looking at you.  You look… hungry. I slowly crawl up on the bed, mounting you.  I can feel your hard, wet dick against my ass cheek.  I lean forward a little, reaching behind me to place the tip of your dick against my ass hole.  I feel you start to push towards me, trying to enter me.  I lean away from you.  The look on your face

There was something really exciting about straddling you, looking at your hands tied above your head.  I knew that, if you had wanted to get away, you could.  Your being complicit in the situation made it a real turn on.  I leaned forward, lips nearly touching yours, “you look so hot like that, Dad.” You didn’t answer, but moved forward to kiss me.  I moved back, just out of your reach.  I smiled.  It was a naughty smile.  I slid backwards, down your body, until I was kneeling over you, hands at your waist.  I reached for your belt, slowly.  I was anticipating this experience now.  I unbuckled your belt, and reached for the button of your jeans, taking a moment to brush the back of my hand against your hardon.  I loved knowing that was for me.  I loved knowing that you were turned on by me.  I unbutton your jeans, then slowly pull down the zipper of your fly with my right hand, while my left strokes the swell of your balls under the denim.  You lay there, the entire time, neither h

This is a blatant attempt to curry favor.  See, work has kept me a bit preoccupied, so no new experiential stories.  This however is another fantasy – that’s presented itself of late.  I just finished a bike ride, and I’m a little sweaty.  I come in, and there you are.  You’re sitting at a desk, working on your laptop.  I come up behind you, lean down and kiss your neck.  You don’t respond.  I kiss my way down your shoulder.  You stop me. “I’m not in the mood.”  Normally, that would be enough to have me back off.  Today, what with a bike ride, and the constant pressure of the seat against my spandex-covered ass, I’m too wound up.  “Come on Dad, please?”  The look on your face, and the set of your mouth, tells me no.  Sighing, I go to take a shower.  The hot water, while relaxing my muscles, does nothing to alleviate how horny I feel.  I clean up, and clean out, and hope to change your mind. When I come out of the bathroom rapped in a robe, I see you’ve moved to the bed.  Sadly, y

I’m sitting here, bleary-eyed, feeling a bit spent.  Dawned on me that I’d not gotten off since Sunday – and here I wondered why I was in such a pissed-off mood for most of the week.  It also dawned on me that I’d not done any exploring in almost 2.  Doesn’t seem a long time, really.  But I’d been so ‘all about it’ for the first few weeks of my blog that it was notably absent.  No, I’ve still not taken the stop of getting someone else involved yet.  Yes, I’m beginning to feel that weighing on me.  Fear and anticipation are warring right now.  I made the conscious decision to get off tonight, and to use one of my toys to assist.  I asked a friend, whom I trust, if he had a suggestion on which one I should use. We’ll call that an ‘interactive’ experience, sorta.  His sage advice was to do one that I wasn’t quite as familiar with.  And so, this is where we find ourselves. I don’t have a huge collection, but I’ve started growing it.  Recent purchases have been elaborated on in earlier en

I felt your hand on my back, and with it I started feeling the rest of my body.  I had been so focused on the sensations of your fingers inside me that I’d lost track of everything else.  I couldn’t tell you how much time you’d spend gently opening me up.  Time really had no meaning.  I could tell you that my dick, soft now, was drooling ribbons of precum.  I could feel it against the skin of my thigh, where it had dripped down to pool on the comforter.  “How are you feeling?”  Simple question.  But I struggled to put words to what I was feeling.  My heart was pounding, and I was flushed.  And I wanted, desperately, to feel you inside me.  I wanted to feel the warmth of you, not just your fingers.  “Please… fuck me.” It came out as a whisper.  I felt you kiss the small of my back. “You sure boy?”  “Yes sir, please.” A little more volume.  I was still afraid.  Afraid of the pain, yes.  But afraid I would disappoint you and, more so, that I would disappoint myself.  I couldn't no

The entire time I’ve been on my knees, sucking you, my dick has been hard in my jeans.  My dick is so wet, precum oozing into my shorts.  Shifting my hips, I can feel it slide against the wet fabric.  I’m turned on enough that I need to take a moment.  I gently pull back from your cock, burying my face in the crook of your thigh.  Breathing you in.  I can feel your hard dick against the side of my face.  It feel hot, wet with my spit and your precum.  I’m a little afraid of what comes next.  Afraid because I’m not experienced, because you’re not small, and because I want what comes next so badly.  I can hear you breathing hard too.  I hope that means you’re enjoying this as much as I am.  I take a few moments, stroking the skin of your thigh, cupping the weight of your balls.  Gently, I start to nuzzle your balls… gently drawing one into my mouth.  I suck on it gently, feeling its heat and weight on my tongue.  I pull back from you, still suctioning the ball in my mouth –not to hurt,

You know, I’ve tried to avoid too much in the realm of fantasies on here – relying instead on the ‘real.’  Something started in my head last night, and it’s been on my mind all day.  Furthered by a certain friend, and a certain gift, and a certain set of pictures.  Bear with me (or, you know, bare… with me). ~~~Addenda, I hadn’t planned on this being a serial, but, um… I’m in my hotel room, standing at the window, looking out on a scene of twilight. The door, as we’ve agreed, is unlocked.  I hear a light knocking, then the door opens quietly and I hear you walk in.  There’s light in the room, not bright light, just enough to see by. I’m in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.  I don’t turn around, but I hear you move closer. I feel your arms wrap around me, under my arms and up over my chest.  I feel your lips on my neck, warm, dry.  I can feel my breathing quicken. I reach up, putting my hands on yours, pulling  you in around me – effectively wrapping you around me.  I feel you, aga

It has been a little stressful or late, mostly job related and – in that context – mostly personality related.  Shit happens, welcome to middle school.  In any event, it’s left me feeling angry, and frustrated, and more than a bit aggressive.  These are not good things, in combination, most of the time.  Certainly haven’t left me feeling like exploring.  Instead, I’ve been more apt to watch a vid, get off, wipe off, and go to bed.  I consciously wanted to change that.  After a bike ride, I decided that a bath would be therapeutic in a lot of ways.  There’s the purely physical part of warming, and relaxing the muscles I’d used.  There’s the mental part of sitting still, somewhere comfortable.  I even did the candle bit.  Then there’s the sensual part.  Soapy, warm water can feel so good on your skin.  The currents (cause who really sits stock still in the bath) can be soothing or just a little titillating.  Depends on what you make of it.  Knowing what I had planned for later, I made

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The last couple of blog posts have been so… experiential… but clinical.  I need a break from that.  I want to indulge myself, bear with me, in some ‘what if?’ I love men.  No, not all men.  Yes, they may be created equally, but I’m not entirely immune to certain charms. These are things that I find attractive, but never – NEVER – does a man possessing or not possessing one of these items make me blind to his other features/attributes/strengths/ weaknesses.  I tend to be a ‘whole package’ kinda guy.  So, while I’m going to list some things… take them with a grain of salt. Dark hair – doesn’t have to be black, in fact black hair doesn’t work for me so much.  Brown, warm brown works.  Dirty blond works, too.  Eyes – more about the shape than the color.  Strike that, more about the intelligence behind them than either color or shape. Lips – I will describe my ideal as ‘kissable’ lips, some substance.  <sigh> Facial hair – Goatees.  Van Dykes.  Side burns.  All of

Perhaps “Yet another…” would be a better title. I will preface this by saying that I may, just might have, tried to move ahead too quickly.  No, no damage.  I tend to be one of those guys that, when I get a mind to, I’m pretty single-minded.  The past couple of weeks have been about expanding my anal horizons.  (hence the blog title, at least in part).  I’m also a cautious guy – and that basically means the focus is, at least in the short term, on toys.  They fascinate me.  I recall a time when toys were, um, well… I will call them utilitarian.  Kinda slapped together.  That has apparently changed a great deal.  Concentrating, as I said, on toys has resulted in a fair amount of shopping.  A friend pointed me to Stockroom.com, and I’ve been very pleased by the results.  Two of the items purchased have already been discussed in previous posts.  I think one of my learnings through all of this is that, at least for me, it’s never going to be a ‘well, done with that let’s move on,’ kind

Ok, not sure what it says about me that I just get my first ‘real’ toy and then turn around and by another.  This one was, well, different.  The experience, also, different.  The new toy is along the lines of anal beads, but with a twist.  There’s a second ‘branch,’ if you will… the toy is designed such that, when the beads (there are three of them) are firmly inserted, the second branch rest against the taint.  I am, apparently, a big fan of the taint.  More on that later. The balls are not huge, in fact they start out very small.  In spite of that, I watned to start out slowly – to pace myself.  I didn’t want to overdo.  Still not sure exactly what my limits are, but I’m keeping it to the ‘less is more’ approach.  I’m afraid of hurting myself, and abandoning this new found experience.  I started, as before, by cleaning out.  I’m finding that process to be a lot less stressful that it once was.  In a way, it was therapeutic.  Not saying I want to administer one every day, but