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Trapped Cum Play

I met Shonna at a bowling alley. We got to talking among the noise of all the people and the crashing pins. She was about my age and quite good-looking, although I try not to notice such things.

Since my last girlfriend moved to Chicago, I’ve decided I don’t need a relationship just now. Too complicated.

But this woman, well, the conversation flowed nicely. It became personal. Too personal to be discussing among all those people, so we took it out into the parking lot. It was just a bit too chilly, so we jumped in her car. Weird and kind of forward, I know, but it was cold outside.

She started asking me about my masturbation habits. The funny thing is, I’d normally be way to shy, but at this point in the conversation, it was kind of OK. She told me she gets off several times a day. She said she likes it kind of rough. I admitted I like it kind rough at times also. She admitted to having bisexual fantasies. So did I.

One thing led to another and we ended going to her apartment. When she opened the door she yelled, “James, I brought you a surprise!”

My heart leapt into my throat. Who was James? Maybe her dog or something? No, a guy came bounding down the stairs. He wasn’t bad looking. Tall and thin – and naked! And, erect!

I’m not an idiot. I realized I had been set up. Perhaps I should have been angry, or maybe afraid. I mean these were total strangers to me. But, no, I felt everything was going to be alright. More than alright. I frankly wouldn’t mind a nice threesome.

It wasn’t long until Shonna and I were as naked as James and all three of us were hugging together on their big bed. My god she was a good-looking chick!

Shonna stopped rolling around and hugging for a monent, explaining to James that I admitted liking rough sex also. He smiled in delight and asked whether I trust him. Could he do anything to me as long as it wasn’t super-painful or harmful? Just the fact that he asked somewhat assured me that these folks would be OK. Still, the whole situation was as scary as it was erotic.

While Shonna watched and kind of lightly touched herself, James had me lay on my back and then started in on me with nice gentle testicle massage. That’s something that’s not been done to me very often. In fact, I don’t think anyone ever specifically massaged my balls. I was really liking it. I had already been erect for a few minutes, but now, I felt my cock straining at it’s absolute full length. He slowly massaged harder and harder, with one ball between the thumb and first fingers of each of his hands. He was rolling my compressed balls slightly back and forth. It was starting to hurt, but I was loving it. I was loving it so much I was starting to get that ‘gonna cum’ feeling. I was about to tell him to stop, but he seems to have sensed my situation and quit on his own.

This is where it gets crazy. He explained the plan, and although it scared me so much my body was shaking a little bit, I was very excited to give it a try.

He brought out a little tube of Krazy glue. I was like, “No, that’s insane. What if I can’t get the glue off?”

Shonna explained that with a bit of coconut oil, the glue releases it’s grip. She said she has had her inner labia glued together, and they played with James having his scrotum glued in various ways. They always were able to get the glue off.

So, I let James put a little glue on my peehole, and within seconds my urethra was glued shut. He then added a second then a third layer of glue. Meanwhile, having him put the glue on my dick, and holding it this way and that as he inspected his work was feeling just wonderful. If nothing more had happened that day, I would have been happy.

But more did happen! Once the glue was all set James announced, “I want to watch as you fuck Shonna.” I was happily shocked. I knew this gluing was leading up to something, but I didn’t realize. I mean, I just felt super-lucky. I had figured maybe James or maybe Shonna give me a handjob or something leading up to me nearly ejaculating again, they’d remove the glue, then, I don’t know, maybe oral sex or something.

Instead, this is what happened. Shonna got on hands and knees presenting her pussy to me. Kneeling behind her, I also had a great view of her anus. I just love female anuses. Male too, truth be told. She then invited me to put my penis in her very wet pussy. It slipped right in. I swear I stroked back and forth in her no more than six times before I orgasmed. I was scared to death about the cum being blocked, and at the same time, as sexually exhilirated as I had ever been. The ejaculation started. It was unlike any of my life. I felt the trapped cum being compressed within my cock. That seems to have not only caused the ejaculatory contractions to be stronger, but they just kept coming. I believe they lasted twice as long as usual.

Meanwhile, Shonna had been rubbing her clit with one hand, and as my penis was still erect in her, and as the contractions were finally subsiding, she started having contractions of her own as she orgasmed. This felt a little different than usual intercourse. I could really feel her contractions. I thought it was because maybe she was orgasming harder than most women, but it was more likely because I still had cum compressed within my urethra.

I stayed hard all the way through her orgasm and for a couple of minutes afterward. She just stayed in position, and so did I. As my penis started finally wilting, Her vagina ejected me. My erection didn’t go entirely down. I think that’s due to the cum keeping my urethra expanded.

Oddly, my cock started to itch. The itch became quite noticeable. James told me that’s because the cum is a bit alkiline, while piss is acedic. The urethra isn’t used to cum being held inside and reacts slightly. In any case, I wanted that glue off – right now!

But it was not to be. Shonna wanted to play with my penis first. She pressed her fingers off and on against my urethra. I could feel the cum squishing back and forth within. Then, more forcibly, she started squeezing my penis from head to where it connects with my body, forcing the cum down, back into me. She continued pressing downward, through my ballsack, then just ahead of my anus. I felt the cum kind of going blurb, blurb, as it was forced through my sphincters and into my bladder.

James came to the rescue with his coconut oil, and sure enough the glue let go, as a little remaining cum spurted out of my peehole.

Shortly afterward I had to pee. Both of them followed me into the bathroom to watch. Normally, it’s difficult for me to pee in front of an audience, but by now I really had to go, so it was fairly easy to pee into their sink. Toward the end of the flow, I felt a kind of chunk, chunk feeling as globs of cum flowed out with the last of my urine. The two of them were delighted to see that.

As you can imagine Shonna, James and I have become the best of friends, and we have done several three-way rough and crazy sex experiments since then.

Note: We don’t know whether this may be harmful in some way. Perhaps a person could have an allergic reaction to the glue, or maybe it’s carcinogenic. Maybe one could be glued so tightly that it won’t release, or maybe one could injure their urethra with trapped cum. So recreating this experiment is not recommended. Better to enjoy this account, then devise your own harmless ways to have orgasmic delight.

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AAA Battery

I found that although tight, I can insert a triple A battery entirely into my urethra. It has to be sterilized with alcohol, and well-lubed. I find there is a restriction about 1 centimeter beyond the peehole, but with patience, I stretched it, and pushed past that. I felt the tightness of the battery sliding in. There was a minor stinging sensation, but very slight.

Using my fingertip, I finally pushed the battery all the way into my urethra until it entirely disappeared from sight. It felt great. I walked around with the battery in my erection for a few minutes. I could feel the extra weight. I did keep checking that the battery wasn’t sliding further down into my cock. I think it’s unlikely it would get past my sphincters, but still, it was a concern.

Finally, I jacked off with the battery still in and it delightfully blocked my cum.

After I settled down, I pushed on the bottom of my battery, through the underside of my cock. It took a moment but then the battery reaappeared, followed by the remains of my cumshot. For the next day, peeing stung a little bit.

I’m going have to do this again someday soon, maybe with two batteries next time.

For those who are interested in this sort of thing, you might enjoy Personal Experiences with Sounding

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Like Einstein

Like Einstein, masturbation technique

This isn’t a report from a client. This was me. It’s a quick memoir and a sort of how-to guide about having extra-long periods of ejaculatory spasming or what I call ‘contracting.’

Einstein had a theory that wasn’t proven by scientific observation until 19 years later.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait that long.

About two years ago, I was playing around with a friend. He wanted me to pinch the tip of his penis closed just as he was ejaculating, so the cum would be trapped inside.

Just as he was going to cum, I pinched his peehole between my thumb and first finger. His dick started spasming, but of course nothing came out. Here’s the weird part: His urethra and perineal area kept on contracting and contracting, at least twice as long as a normal orgasm.

When he finally settled down, I let go, and the cum flowed out. We both really enjoyed that.

Since that time, I have hypothesized that the extra long orgasm was caused by the cum trapped inside, but somehow never got around to experimenting with it. But maybe it was just the excitement of trying a new experiment with me, his buddy.

This afternoon, I was playing with extended dry orgasms as I often do. For those who don’t know, with practice you can get to the point where you have orgasms, contractions and all, but nothing comes out, and you can do it for literally hours. You can also have longer orgasms that last for minutes at a time. All you have to do is practice edging, until you can maintain the balance easily, then you can go just a bit farther, ending up with dry orgasms. I’ve discovered that your body actually learns to help you. The more you do it, the easier it becomes.

So that’s what I was doing. After maybe 45 minutes, I went too far. I felt a full ejaculation coming on, but I wasn’t prepared. Not having anything handy to catch a mess, I pinched the tip of my dick closed. I felt the pressure from each contraction, but no pain. Not even any discomfort. It was really very nice. But the crazy thing is it didn’t stop. I just kept contracting and contracting. It lasted about three times longer than a normal orgasm.

So, my theory was proven! Then, being the good scientist I imagine myself to be, I thought I might video the same thing this evening. First, I did the dry orgasm thing over the course of about 20 minutes. Then I set up my phone and started videoing. I decided to go ahead and ejaculate while pinching my cockhead again, and sure enough. the contractions came. This time, they only lasted perhaps one and a half times as long as an ordinary orgasm. Maybe it was because I wasn’t as fully charged up as I had been earlier in the day. The video didn’t come out very well. I plan to continue my experiments with blocked ejaculations tomorrow, seeing if I can get longer orgasms, and get it on video.

I wonder if in the same way I learned to have these continuous dry orgasms, the technique of blocked ejaculation will evolve into something more spectacular? Like what if I could learn to just keep ejaculating as long as I want? I truly think that might be possible.

I’ll keep you posted.

Please comment below. I live and write for your comments!

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Whisking

Use a Whisk for Sexual Purposes

As you probably know, a whisk is a kitchen gadget used for mixing. As sex toys, they may be quite interesting. There are many accounts of women enjoying the pleasure of opening their vaginas with whisks. One can even find pictures on the internet of women, and I assume men, putting whisks into their anuses.

I suppose one has to be careful to avoid pinching where the blades of the whisk cross.

A person doesn’t necessarily have to press the whisk into themselves. I’ll bet just running the blades lightly over a vulva, scrotum, or along the ass crack may be quite erotic.

Does anyone know of something like a whisk that could be pressed into a peehole? Along the same lines, notice the end of the whisk handles. I’ll bet some are just the right size and shape for urethral stimulation. Like all urethral play, everything must be sterile and have smooth edges since the urethra is quite prone to tearing and infections.

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Personal Experiences with Sounding

Akelo recently published a nice article about urethral sounding. I was going to write a comment on his article but it grew long, so I figured it’s an article in itself.

For those who don’t know, sounding is the idea of sticking an object into your peehole, and potentially deep into your urethra. In some cases, people will penetrate all the way into their bladders. It has also been referred to as “peehole play” and “urethral fucking.” Then there’s catheter play, which is a variation of sounding in which you use actual medical urethral catheters. Here you go:

I agree, sounding is a wonderful feeling. especially deep sounding which gives you something like a ‘gotta pee’ feeling, but much nicer.

I started around age thirteen, before I could even ejaculate. I had a darkroom thermometer with a 6-inch long smooth metal stem. My neighbor, same age as me, didn’t want me to sound him, but he, and occasionally his twin sister, put that thermometer in my little penis several times. Oh, what fun! I really wanted to play with his sister’s peehole, but that never happened.

But as you alluded, it is also risky. I did once give myself a whopping infection. It started in my prostate, which felt weird, itched a bit, and colored my semen red with traces of blood. A day later, the inflammation traveled to my epididymis and balls which swelled up to the size of tangerines and hurt like hell for two weeks. I thought I had been all careful and sterilized everything nicely.

These days, I don’t do much sounding. I’ve decided I can have fantastic orgasms by other means, which I’ve written elsewhere, so why take the risk?

During my urethral play, I did find that one can insert solid sounds all the way into the bladder by bending the penis downward enough to get a mostly straight path. I played with silicone sounds, but one time, a friend was sounding me with a flexible sound. The lube was evidently absorbed and when he pulled the sound out, it kind of stuck to part of my urethra. That caused me to bleed rather profusely and freaked him out. Fortunately, I healed from that in a day or so.

They say fairly large diameter sounds are safer than narrow ones, which I believe can puncture through your urethra and cause a really bad day. One time I found clear tubing in an auto supply store. I bough diameters from 1/8-inch to 1/2-inch. I melted the ends with a flame, and sanded them smooth. I was absolutely surprised to find I could work the 3/8-diameter tube all the way to my prostate, but didn’t manage to get it into my bladder.

Have you ever had the effect where you enter a tube into your bladder and it kind of shudders? My theory is that the opening of the tube against the side of the bladder causes the bladder wall to flex, letting the urine flow, then obstructing it, over and over at perhaps 5 times per second. It’s probably dangerous, but a very interesting feeling.

I’ve also blown air into my bladder, and let it fart out through the urethra. Talk about an interesting feeling! You feel the vibrations deep in you body, around the urethral sphincters and prostate. Toward the end, the air mixes with urine, and you get bubbles or suds coming out of your peehole. However, I’m probably lucky to still be alive. I believe the air could have traveled up to my kidneys, and caused any number of problems from infection to embolism.

Oh, and then there was the time I had gone to a convention. I was in a hotel room all by myself. They provided stationery including a long tapered pen. How fascinating, right? Well, there was no lube. I found a packet of shampoo in the bathroom. I decided that might make nice lube. I pushed the pen about 4 inches into my dick, but the shampoo started to sting, so I took it out, and just jerked off. As I ejaculated, it stung quite badly.

My penis started to really sting after that. It was so bad that it took me twenty minutes to pee, letting out one little painful squirt at a time. The stinging was so bad I couldn’t stand fully upright. It continued for three days.

In conclusion, play with safer techniques. I’m living (thankfully) proof that you can fuck up badly. I have since found that you can experiment with glans rubbing or firm testicle massage, if you want intensity, or you can learn to have continuous dry orgasms spanning an hour or more. Oh my goodness, nothing compares to that! I have written up the techniques here and elsewhere. Enjoy!

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Translation

I found this very weird translation from Japanese on a sex toy website:

Continue on the edge, the sperm cow shot from a few minutes to now can last for half an hour. ABS strong contraction, drive the anus shrinkage pull, thus driving the prostate extrusion, silent pleasure a wave devour the will of the fine cow. As a punishment, this time will not give him the power to ejaculate. Feelings of loss evoke the infinite desire and physiological desire of the fine cow for the next opportunity.

Edging:
Camouflage + elastic Binding belt, air filter hood reduces the Roar volume, but also forces the fine cow to breathe to obtain more oxygen. The scrotum binds to the traction to avoid the fine cow swinging violently because of the sensitivity of the tortoise, while also gaining a different pleasure through local numbness and pain. Coronal ditch smear Swiss navy lubricating oil, reduce friction coefficient, avoid fine cattle early horse. Then, it depends on the performance of the dairy farmers.

Sounding:
Three months, not less than three times a week, full paraffin lubrication after the expansion of the urethra, now, sent to his dream of double sounding. He says the desire for subjugation and unknown fear of urethral pleasure, mixed with prostate pleasure, is unstoppable. Again, the body’s ductility and adaptability is very strong, the body is a large sexual organs waiting for you to explore to develop. Do a good job of disinfection lubrication and no monkey urgency, the risk of infection is extremely low.

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Sword Swallower

I went to a vaudeville revival convention a few years ago. Dancers, musicians, jugglers, mimes, clowns, ventriloquists, comedians, and others attended. I fancied myself a bit of a magician, but it was more a hobby than a profession.

I didn’t know anyone, and I wasn’t even sure they’d let me in, but they welcomed me with open arms. Four days in, and I felt very accepted. I was becoming one of them, seemingly a big, happy, if somewhat weird international family. Most of the people knew each other from years and years back. They grew up in the business together. They’d meet at various theaters and so on. I noticed they were a very horny, sexual lot. There was frequent innuendo and outright sexual discussion. I gathered a lot of intercourse and other activities went on in the hotel rooms among these people.

So one night, a sword swallower, a guy named Jeremy Blue, was going to do a private show. I was invited, along with like a hundred other people. Everyone was saying that it was going to be a very unusual show, with something more than sword swallowing.

So, we’re all chit-chatting in the audience, when the curtain opens, and out comes Jeremy with a tray of various sword-like things.

True to form, he did some real geeky sword swallowing. Now, I’m not really a fan of such things. It’s not a magic trick. It’s real. Sword swallowers have trained their throats to accept foreign objects, and they really do stick metal things down through their esophagus right into the stomach. The thing that was cool, is this guy had a great onstage personality. He was truly funny. You didn’t have to like sword swallowing to enjoy his show.

Next, he did some things with fire. Putting out balls of fire in his mouth. Spitting flames, juggling three flaming balls.

Then, a hush came over the audience. Many of them evidently knew something I didn’t.

Jeremy started doing a striptease on the stage. I thought it was a joke, but he kept going until he had not a stitch on. Not only that, he was more naked than most, explaining that he didn’t have any hair except on the top of his head because it would interfere with his fire show tricks.

He proceeded to rub fire wands over his stomach, chest, and even his face. I couldn’t help noticing that he was growing an erection during this process. He seemed totally unabashed, like an erection on a stage in front of a hundred cheering performers was normal, an everyday occurrence. I was shocked, but somehow fascinated, maybe even delighted also. Now, I’m not gay, but I do appreciate the human body, whether male or female.

He stopped, lit what looked like a wad of cloth on fire, and held the flames under his balls for a very long time. I don’t know why that didn’t burn him. He put that out, and seemed to be done with fire.

Now, he grabbed one last implement from his tray. It looked like a miniature sword. He handed it to someone in the front row, and it was passed around. I got to touch it for a moment. It was indeed a miniature sword, about fifteen inches long, with an additional six inches of a small handle. The edges were not at all sharp. In fact, it was highly polished stainless steel in a sort of oval shape. Somewhat like the handle of a fork, but tapered toward a dull but pointy end.

The small sword came back to the stage, where Jeremy rubbed it with something. In a moment, the smell wafted from the stage down to us in the audience. It was rubbing alcohol. Then he rubbed it with something else, oil I assume. All the while, it never occurred to me what he might do with such a thing. I was too focused on his ongoing erection, which he had continued to ignore during this whole thing with the little sword. He continued to tell funny jokes. Then, he sat in a chair, and the whole crowd leaned forward to see better. A big TV screen lit up behind him, so we didn’t have to strain to see what he was going to do next.

And what he did, sent me into a masturbation frenzy back in my hotel room right after the show. He slowly stuck that sword into his peehole. Eventually all fifteen inches disappeared into his penis, while he was explaining how it felt going past his two sphincters. Did you know there are two urinary sphincters? I didn’t. One is voluntary, the other involuntary, he explained. He left it in a moment, then started masturbating with it buried all the way to the handle. He announced ‘I’m now orgasming.’ We could all see his muscles throughout his body tensing and we could see his penis and perineal area pulsing on the monitor, but nothing came out. He stayed stationary for a couple of minutes. It seemed to take quite a while for his orgasm to end. Then he slowly withdrew the little sword. When the tip came out of his peehole, it was followed by a couple drops of semen. He put on a robe, accepted his very enthusiastic applause with a big smile, and the curtain closed.

I’m no sword swallower, and I value my life, so I’m not going to experiment with Jeremy’s urethral trick, even though the thought has occurred to me. But I hear the urethra is very prone to infection, as well as physical damage, so I’ll stick with ordinary masturbation – while I replay in my mind what Jeremy did, thank you very much!

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Peehole Stretcher

I have jerked off with a friend from time to time. He’s a guy I met at church. He’s four years younger than me, and like me he’s married with a handful of kids. I have two girls and a boy. He has two children. Both of us are happily married, In both cases, our wives don’t enjoy sex as much as we’d like. The wives kind of know what’s going on with Keith and I, but we don’t talk about it. I think they are secretly relieved that Keith and I have an outlet for our sexual energy, so the women are off the hook.

I went over to Keith’s office a couple of weeks ago where we meet up every now and then to jerk each other off. It’s a nice private psychiatrist’s office with various furniture. He even has a sort of back room with a massage table in it. Why, I don’t know exactly, but that’s where we play.

On this occasion, he said he had a new toy, but wouldn’t tell me what it was until arrived. The back room was warm, we had removed our clothes, me, with an erection right from the start, and him still soft, as was usual. It takes a bit to get him erect.

Anyway, he finally brought out the thing. It didn’t look like much. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe one of those battery powered massagers or something. This was a small stainless steel rig. Essentially a ring with two one-and-a-half inch long prongs. Each prong was attached by a screw and wingnut assembly. The prongs were thin, like the tines on a fork, but round and smooth. They were bunched together.

Keith's urethral peehole stretcher
Get it on Amazon

I figured out what it was right away. A peehole stretcher. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea. It worried me, and made me especially horny at the same time. Strange reaction I know, but that’s what was going through my mind. I thought I’d probably decline, going for a regular handjob instead, but if he wanted, I could use it on him.

Yet, I was somehow quite excited by the thing, so I guess it’s no surprise that five minutes later, I was laid out on Keith’s massage table, with my six-inch dick fully erect and sticking straight up in the air. Usually it lays against my belly, unless I’m especially aroused. I was also nervous.

Keith was busy liberally washing the thing in rubbing alcohol. He got the alcohol all over his hands too. He said sterility is important in the urethra. Then, he took his time drying it off, which caused my feelings to intensify. I was becoming remarkably aroused. At the same time, I was becoming scared. He was going to put that thing in my dick!

Finally the contraption and his hands had dried. He put some oil on it, and a bit on the tip of my glistening penis. It glistens when the skin of the glans is stretched tight with super-erectness.

The first touch of his oily fingertip right on the end of my peehole was wonderful. I’m sure you know what I mean. The first touch, wherever it is on your genitals, is always so delicious. I craned my head up to watch as he placed the bunched-together prongs against my peehole. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid them into my dick.

So far, so good. It didn’t feel like much. I did feel a sense of penetration in a place a guy is never penetrated, and maybe a very slight sting. But here’s the crazy thing. I was getting all jittery. I don’t know if it was the fear or what, but my legs, especially my thighs were sort of jumping with all sorts of little involuntary contractions. Shivers, really.

Once it was fully inserted, he just left it there for a minute. With his eyes, he asked whether I wanted him to continue. I knew it might hurt, but I absolutely wanted to go on with this experiment. Oddly, I already was feeling a hint of that ‘gonna-cum’ feeling.

He started cranking the little wingnuts. The prongs started to separate. No problem. It felt kind of nice. The slight sting when he first inserted it went away.

He continued to turn them, and I started to feel some tightness. It was a rather delicious feeling. He turned them some more, and now, I could feel a sort of pinching sensation. I asked him to stop for a minute. I raised my head and looked at the thing stuck into the tip of my dick. He saw me look, and tilted my dick toward my eyes, so I could see the opening. It was stretched surprisingly large in a tight oval shape. I could see way down into my urethra. My dick pulsed in some sort of anticipation. Almost the kind of pulse that happens when you start to ejaculate.

After a moment, he continued moving the prongs apart, ever so slowly. There was no mistaking it now, the thing was starting to hurt. My legs were still shivering, but now, even more so. My heart was racing. I wasn’t sure this was good for me, but then again, I figure no real harm could come from it. Still, I was scared, and super aroused at the same time. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what was happening.

I lifted my head again and watched as he slowly, gingerly turned the wingnuts some more. It was really stinging now. I wasn’t sure I could take any more. I told Keith to stop for a moment. Instead, he turned one of the wingnuts one more quarter-turn. Damn, that hurt! And suddenly, cum was bubbling up into my wide open urethra, between the prongs, and up over the top of my peehole. As I was cumming, the sting was strong and was actually throbbing with every ejaculatory contraction.

As soon as I settled down, Keith started loosening the wingnuts. Damn if that didn’t sting more than when they were stretching me wide open, but only momentarily. Finally, the prongs were bunched back together again and the thing was removed from my peehole.

It had been one of the strongest orgasms of my life. And certainly the strangest.

Keith was just dying for me to try the thing on him. Even though he had owned it for several days, he had refrained from trying it on himself, since he wanted to save it for this very occasion.

His penis was already as hard as I had ever seen it in anticipation. I got him on the table, and to my surprise, I was very interested in applying the thing to him. Who knew that I had sadistic tendencies?

I got it all sterilized with the alcohol and went to work. His legs didn’t become all jitterly like mine had been. In fact, I was still having some trouble standing there next to the massage table. My legs now felt rubbery. He loved it right from the start.

As I was working the wingnuts, opening his dick ever wider, he was screaming for me to stop, then a second later, screaming for me to keep going. Evidently, this was giving him lots of exciting pain, and I understood how he was enjoying it. A half-hour ago, I wouldn’t have understood that interest in pain at all. Just like me, after a couple of minutes, he came involuntarily. The cum flowed up through his widely stretched urethra over the spreader and my fingers as I held his throbbing penis. After it was over, I slowly released the wingnuts, and again just like me, I could see that the pain of releasing it exceed the pain of being held stretched open. He was wincing and jerking reflexively as I loosened it.

Finally, it was fully out. I had become hard again as I was working on him. He wanted to give me a regular handjob, and I was all for it, although I figured it wouldn’t amount to much. But no, after a short while, I came again. There was a very slight pinkish tint to part of my cum, so I guess the thing had injured me slightly. After I came again, it was time to put Keith on the table for his second ejaculation, but he was soft, and couldn’t cum again, despite me spending five minutes trying.

And that was the craziest session of my life. The next day, it stung to pee a little bit. After that, I was back to normal. Keith reported that he was fine, too. Still, the thing kind of scares us, so we both decided we don’t need to do that any more.

Today, Keith just texted me that he has purchased a ball press, whatever that is. I can’t wait to play with it.

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Sadistic Sharla


I’ve been seeing this woman professionally. I mean, since my wife died, I’ve been missing sex. Now my wife wasn’t all that wild, but what I miss, mostly because I never got it, is wild sex.

So I heard about Sharla. The first time, she greeted me at her door wearing a flowery dress, and after collecting her $120 cash, she led me into a large back bedrooom. It was an amazing place. Dark, but I could see literally hundreds of sex toys hung on the walls, on counter tops, and stacked in the corners.

Sharla, who is short and skinny with tightly cropped curly hair, and so black that one would think she’s first generation African, has a reputation. That is, one never knows what’s she’s going to do. What sex toys she might use on a person.

My first time was so fucked up that I swore I’d never come back. The second, third and fourth times, same thing. Yet here I was. This time, she greeted me at the door stark naked. You’d think she’d be worried about the neighbors glimpsing her in the doorway. She didn’t seem concerned at all. When I asked, she laughed saying half of her neighbors, male and female, are her clients. “The other half hate my guts, so it can’t get any worse,” she laughed.

I was embarrassed just going in her door fully clothed. Like, ‘What must the neighbors think of me, knowing what Sharla does for a living?’

It was very enjoyable just seeing her young naked body. She has small tits with big super-black nipples. To me, that’s a real turn on. She keeps her vaginal area totally hairless.

She led me to her ‘dungeon’ as she calls it, and had me immediately remove all my clothes. I had done it several times before, but I still felt a momentary pang of reluctance getting nude in front of her, even though she was stark naked. I wondered what she must think of me. Probably that I’m ridiculously white. I really should get out in the sun more.

She had me lay face up on her table, and tied my ankles and wrists with restraints. She told me today’s safeword was ‘carrot.’ I well-knew that I’d better remember that, because if things got too intense, as they very well might with Sharla, I’d better remember the word!

My penis was not hard. Too much fear. I was literally trembling in fear at what she might do. And that, believe it or not, was the biggest attraction. Knowing she might do anything, and there was nothing I could do about, made me terribly horny.

Today’s lesson started with some very light interaction with a feather duster. I wasn’t expecting that. She kept it so light, that at times I couldn’t quite tell if she was touching me with it or not. She started on my cheeks, then my nipples, and finally my penis. The fear was still there, but I was now as erect as a man can be. Every time she touched my with that feathery thing, my cock jumped an inch off my belly. Then it got even harder, and stayed off my belly, sticking straight up. I didn’t even know it could get that hard.

With my restrained left hand, I tried to cop a feel of her vagina. She backed away.

I wasn’t looking at most of what she was doing, even though my head was propped up so I could see if I wanted. But I had to look when I felt a light but cold and wet touch on the very tip of my dick. She was holding a tube of KY and rubbing it around my peehole. Then, surprise number one, she squeezed the tube right into my peehole. I felt my urethra expand with the KY jelly squirted inside.

She rummaged around in a drawer for a moment, then grabbed a little contraption. She also had a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and was sterilizing it. Seeing what it was, my erection weakened immediately, and I started trembling again. It was a three-pronged affair with some wingnuts. It was just the right size to fit into a guy’s peehole.



You can get one of these on Amazon

And that’s what she did with it. She slowly and gently inserted it into my peehole. It stung a bit, but not too much. She left it there for a moment for me to get used to. Then she started turning the screws. Wingnuts, actually. The prongs moved away from each other. At first, no problem. It felt kind of nice having my peehole opened up like that. I could even feel the cold air in there, in a place where no one ever feels cold air. My penis, with a mind entirely of it’s own, grew rock-hard again.

Sharla continued to turn the screws. Now, it was starting to sting a bit. She continued to turn the screws to the point where I was wincing and I was saying, “Too much!” She laughed maniacally and continued to turn the screws very slowly. Oh my God, it was starting to genuinely hurt. She reminded me that I knew the safeword. But, I also knew from previous experience if I actually said ‘carrot’ the session would end immediately. On top of everything else, I was thinking about my $120. I didn’t want to waste it.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, she quit turning the screws, and just left it there. My peehole was so stretched open! The pain was still there, but subsiding. With the thing still firmly embedded in the end of my dick, she had me scrunch up, momentarily lifting my butt off the table, and put a bunch of towels under me. She left the room for a while. This peehole spreader thing of hers was very much on my mind. It was still making me very sore, but also very horny. If she hadn’t returned when she did, I probably would have had a hands-free orgasm. I was wondering what it would feel like to have the contractions of my urethra thwarted by the gadget.

What she brought back into the room was a WaterPik of all things. One of those deals for cleaning your teeth with little blasts of water. She turned it on, and started squirting high-pressure thin spurts of warm water on my scrotum, which hurt a bit, but was also delicious. Then she moved up the underside of my penis, and finally was squirting it on the underside of the head of my dick. She had regulated the pressure just right, so it felt wonderful, almost like a highly-focused tickle where the water was blasting against my frenulum, then the head of my penis.

Then, Sharla did the unthinkable. She squirted the warm water directly into my pried open peehole. She was spraying it against the inside surface of my urethra. I felt some of the very warm, almost hot water go deep into my penis, but not so far as into my bladder. Occasionally it stung so bad where it was hitting my inner urethra that I felt what seemed like electric shocks. At the same time, I felt over-the-top orgasmic. She turned off the WaterPik, and I was cumming. My penis was wide open, so the cum didn’t squirt out. Instead, it flowed up, filling the hole, and then out and over the top of my penis. I felt the contractions against those prongs which were stretching my urethra open so wide, and it had a surprising effect. The orgasm kept going. The sperm had ceased flowing, but the contractions were continuing. After a few more, they subsided. Then they started up again. I had a minor second orgasm.

Giving me a minute to recover, she started loosening the screws. Boy, did that hurt! The sting as she released the tension was at least twice as much as when she was stretching it open in the first place. I guess one’s penis gets used to the pain and shuts it out. But now it was back full force.

Finally all the tension was gone and she slipped it out of my penis, which was now quite slippery with a mix of cum, KY jelly, and water. The towels she had put under me were sopping wet, and not the most pleasant thing to lay on, but that was the least of my worries. That’s because she had grabbed the shaft of my still hard penis in one hand, and was starting to rub the palm of her other hand over the tip. Over my glans. It was the worst tickle of my life. I couldn’t stand it, and said “Carrot.” She acted as if she didn’t hear.

“Carrot! Carrot!” I screamed as I pulled so hard against my restraints that my wrists were starting to ache.

“Oh, that safeword has expired,” she replied as she continued to rub my glans with the palm of her hand.

I was starting to freak out. This was just too much. My penis was starting to soften. I figured if it went entirely soft, she might stop. But it didn’t soften fast enough, and she just kept rubbing.

After a minute, she quietly said, “The new safeward is ‘turtle.'”

“Turtle!” I yelled.

Sharla immediately stopped. Then she untied my wrists and ankles and left the room for a few minutes so I could collect myself. I couldn’t even move so I just stayed on the table for a bit, my ass still propped up on the wet towels. It was, without a doubt, the most intense thing that had ever happened to me. Finally, I got up, got my clothes back on, and drove home, convinced that I would never, ever subject myself to that again. And yet, I have made an appointment for Thursday and I can’t wait to see what Sharla is going to do next. I have masturbated to wonderful orgasms remembering that occasion several times.

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Sliding Around on the Bisexual Scale

In late middle school I knew I had a problem. I knew I was quite attracted to boys my age, and not so much to the girls. Frankly, I wasn’t attracted to girls at all. They scared me because I didn’t know what to make of them.

I remember wearing sunglasses so that I could look at the boys swimming in the public pool without them knowing that I was looking at them. On the rare occasion when I saw some pornographic pictures, I’d like seeing the erections, but when I saw a woman’s vagina, it looked like a wound to me.

Once I learned to masturbate, which I figured out on my own, it was images of boys that turned me on. The first time I orgasmed, only one clear drip came out. I wasn’t very informed about sex, but I sort of knew what it was. I was also freaked. Like most kids in those times, I was under the impression that masturbating was a very bad thing. I didn’t quite know why, but I knew it was bad. Everyone said so. “Thanks parents, thanks society!” – I say cynically, now.

As “bad” as it was, it didn’t stop me from jerking off pretty much every day. That first time I came, I had done it by pressing the thumb and first finger against each hand against the sides of the shaft of my penis and moving up and down. For several months, I thought that this exact same grip was required, and did it that way every time.

Nothing happened with anyone but myself until high school. Then, I started jerking off with this very heavyset friend of mine. We took it to the point where we’d give each other handjobs. That’s all. I believe it was he who approached me about the idea of jerking off together. I wasn’t attracted to him, but he was a good friend. We did lots together, like talking endless about when we’d have cars someday and what kind they’d be. We both talked very authoritatively about girls, trying to insinuate we had experience, without actually saying anything.

Sometimes, while jerking the other guy off, we’d pretend his penis was a gearshift, and we were driving a car.

Diane came along. She was always talking about sex, and I know in retrospect she wanted to get into my pants. I was so oblivious that it never happened. But her brother, he was a late developer, he and I masturbated each other all the time. Soon he could get to the point where a drop of cum came out of him. By then, I had hairs around the base of my dick, and could cum in greater quantity. He and I would take the hollow pieces of a plastic chess set, and see how much semen we could pump into them. The last time I saw Benny, he was able to fill a pawn. I could almost fill a queen.

In my last year of high school, by now driving a beat-up old foreign car with a worn out transmission that required double-clutching, I met June. She was five years older. She was a small Asian chick who had the unlikely job of driving an 18-wheeler. I fantasized day and night about driving a big truck, and here she was actually doing it. I dreamed of trucking almost as much as of sex – still mostly with guys, however. That bit, about guys, was my big secret.


June looked a lot like Lucy Liu

One day, June said the company needed co-drivers, and the only thing required was a truck driving learners permit and being 18-years old, since there’d be a fully licensed driver in the truck. I was all over it, and got my permit the next day.

The first time out, we had a ten-wheeler with a ten-speed transmission. I was disappointed that it wasn’t an 18-wheeler, but so totally happy to be driving any sort of truck. June drove the first hundred miles. I was wondering if she’d let me drive at all. Then she pulled over and we switched seats. Because the old car I had, and because I had studied up on it, it didn’t take me long to figure out how to shift gears in that truck. June was very careful to instruct me in how to take corners so as not to run the back wheels over curbs, or worse. Still, I almost clobbered a stop sign while making a right turn. After that first 100 miles, she never drove again. She was delighted to have me do all the work.

They were two-day runs. We had to stay in a hotel overnight. All the first afternoon, I was trying to figure out how that was going to work, and assuming we’d rent two rooms. It turns out the company would only pay for one room. Interesting, eh?

By the way, I have to tell you, I was finding Junie rather attractive. She was more like a boy than a girl in many respects. She had short hair for a girl, and fairly small tits. I especially enjoyed her mouth. She could swear up a storm, which I found rather impressive at the time.

So that night, we were in our separate beds, and talking. She kept bringing the conversation around to sex, which I was fully on board with. I was too shy to do anything more, but not Junie. Suddenly she threw off her covers, and climbed into my bed. Awkwardly removing our clothing, we started rolling around and kissing. She totally wanted to fuck. So did I. However, I couldn’t get it up. I know now it’s called ‘performance anxiety.’ Plus, all my life up until then, thinking I had to keep my gay side secret, I was very careful not to spring boners at inappropriate times, like in the boys’ shower at school. So, I had accidentally taught myself not to get hard around other people, even when it’s OK. June was disappointed, even though I was able to bring her to orgasm with my fingertips. To say I was disappointed would be a huge understatement.

On the next drive, two weeks later, we had an 18-wheeler with a Spicer 13-speed transmission. I was delighted. It was larger and harder to manage than I imagined, but I loved learning to drive that thing. We stayed in a hotel again, and that night everything worked perfectly! To my surprise, I found Junie very attractive, and had a great time. That first time, I kind of thought of her hairy vagina as unattractive. Not this time! I was happy to lick it, and loved the taste. I fondled her breasts for a long time as well, which not only did she like, but I loved. I ejaculated inside a vagina for the first time in my life.

During the next few years, I still thought I was hopelessly gay. In those years, that would have been a bad thing, or so I believed. Homosexuality was not as accepted, at least in my circles, as it is today. To satisfy my desires, I had occasional experiences in bathhouses, and with the occasional guy. I met a gay plumber. Unlike me, he wasn’t keeping it a secret. I was surprised he could be so open about it and remain functional in society. Carl was very attractive to me. Slight of build, and blond-haired. He was rather feminine in build, but didn’t act that way. In all other respects, he was a ‘guy,’ drinking beer, following sports, swearing, working hard at manual labor, and so on. When we got into his bed, I was suddenly very uninterested in kissing or oral sex. All I wanted to do was handjobs. Fortunately, he was understanding. We got together a few more times, and then drifted apart.


Carl bore a resemblance to David Spade

In my late twenties, I had sold a business, bought a motorhome and traveled around the country. I met various guys, and the occasional girl. One was Amy, a very small, curly-blond haired woman, not unlike a young Meg Ryan.

Amy was a handjob expert. She liked sticking her skinny little finger into my peehole, which kind of hurt, but felt very exotic at the same time. One time, I ejaculated while her finger was in there. It scared me, because I thought the cum had to come out, or I’d burst something, but no, it was just fine. In fact, the orgasmic contractions lasted twice as long. She wanted me to put a finger in her ass, which I did reluctantly. When I pulled it out, I noticed a sweet odor, not at all what I would have expected. I put it back in, and felt her contractions when she orgasmed from the attention my other hand was giving her clit. From then on, I was a big fan of anal fingering.

I met a rather overweight Inuit (Eskimo) woman. She was great fun, but I thought I deserved better, so I cheated on her. She threw me out instantly, which I’ve always regretted, because she was great company. The best conversationist I had ever met. Also, a sexual monster. She loved having cucumbers shoved into her ass, and taught me to enjoy that as well.

I hadn’t been doing much of anything with guys, except for Larry. He was 18 years old, mostly heterosexual, although still a virgin. He and I started giving each other handjobs on a fairly regular basis.

Then I met Cindy. She was a true nymphomaniac. Every guy’s dream, right? Not so! She wore me out. She’d want to fuck at 11pm when I was sleepy, but I’d comply. At first it was fun. But then she’d wake me at 3am begging me for more sex. And then at 7am, she’d gently wake me again, and – you guessed it – wanting more. I tried to dump her several times, but the tears would come, and I would relent. I introduced her to Larry, figuring he’d get his first experience with a woman, and I’d get some relief.

The first time was a three-way. I probably should have held back so Larry could have a normal first experience, but I didn’t. I put my finger in her vagina while he was fucking her, which she loved. He probably wanted it simpler, but didn’t complain. I mean, after all, he was having a great time. Then, when he was about to cum, I stick my finger in his ass. He orgasmed so hugely that he was shaking all over, and practically fell off the bed, almost taking Cindy with him.

They hit it off big-time. I lost Larry as a wank buddy, but also got rid of Cindy who was becoming a big problem. As the two of them rode off into the sunset, I cooled down for a year or so, being happy just to jerk off once or twice a day.

Then I met Carol, who drove me fucking crazy. She was a perfectionist, and it overflowed into trying to control me. Like while having sex, she’d keep saying, ‘unh, uhh,’ or ‘yes,’ guiding me in exactly what she wanted. The prudent thing would have been to dump her early, because she was rather bothersome. But instead, I found myself more and more drawn to her. She was very intelligent as well as intuitive, and although she could get intense at times, she was a great and helpful companion. That was 26 years ago. Carol and I are still happily married with two beautiful grown children, who, due to Carol’s way of guidance, are already very successful adults.

A few years ago Carol went through menopause and lost interest in sex. She knows about my bisexual background, and has encouraged me to play with guys whenever I like. She absolutely doesn’t want me to get sexual with any women, however. I’m not sure why the double-standard line exists in her mind, but it does. So, every month or so, I hang out with Tom, who is a few years younger than me, built like a Greek god, and loves exchanging handjobs.