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The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 16

Jul 122010

All genders are similarly gifted in the receiving end of anal sex. Men, however, have an advantage. Not only do they have a prostate–providing icing on the cake of penetration–but they have a a penetrating part with exquisite sensitivity that gives the owner a pleasure I will never experience.

I certainly can’t complain about using my hands. Fingers are long and flexible enough that two of them provide all the stimulation that most people desire. I’m fortunate in having small hands. With practice, I can slide a well-lubricated hand into a willing friend’s anal canal. Something entirely different from the force implied by the word “fisting” is required. It is delicacy. A fist is not inserted; it becomes. The thumb folds inside the fingers instead of outside, as for a punch.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 15

Writing No Responses »

Jul 052010

“Oh, ass—adored throne of lechers!”

-Paul Verlaine

Penises can be so uncooperative sometimes. They have their own agenda, dispensing pleasure and performance anxiety in equal measure.

The homely asshole, on the other hand, is much more accommodating. Given a gentle touch and enough lubrication, it will play for hours. Some small skill at pleasuring an asshole may put the owner in a state approaching orgasm and maintain that state indefinitely.

Anal sex is also dark, dirty, and a major hang-up for most people, if only when the head gets involved. It’s certainly not the sort of thing I plan for a first date.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 14

Writing No Responses »

Jun 282010

Sing to me, O Muse, of the delights of penetration, and the orifices that might be plundered. Many are the variations to visit in search of pleasure, and many are the manners and customs thereof. Tell me, too, of the secrets of buggery, O daughter of Jove, from whatever source you may know them. Continue reading »

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 13

Writing No Responses »

Jun 212010

What we like is only one of the determinants of how we fuck. There’s a tremendous structure of social approval surrounding the ‘right’ kind of sex. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid inculcation by many mainstream sexual attitudes. It wasn’t until about a week ago that I realized how I’d been infected by an entire other set of sex memes.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad I’m not a Cosmo Girl. I went and skimmed the current web issue of Cosmopolitan just to find out how lucky I am that, well, I don’t read Cosmopolitan. Except for research. As far as I can tell, Cosmo Girls are obsessed with getting men, keeping men, and trying not to get bored of the men they have. And shaving. This is female desire filtered through advertising, with extra pink.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 12

Writing No Responses »

May 312010

I wasn’t always so good at communication.

Over twenty years ago, I had a brief, torrid affair with a young waif I met during college. He was so much fun to fuck, yet he came so quietly that I could never tell if he had or not. I could think of no good way to bring up the subject.

The words were obvious. Yet I could not get them over my tongue and past my teeth. There were other questions I didn’t ask, at least not in time. “What do you want?” would have been a good one. Our break-up was sudden and depressing. I wrote some bad poetry. Continue reading »

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 11

Writing No Responses »

May 242010

Necessity is the mother of invention, but frustration benefits no one.

Due to medication, my mate’s erections are sometimes more torpid than turgid. Through patience and the liberal application of sensations, lubrication and firm hands, it is usually possible to summon a stiffie. But no technique is as important as consistency. He knew (and more importantly, his penis knew) that we’d be fucking every night. My hands, my mouth, and my pussy were always available. Thus he was perfectly happy to forbear from coming until we were together. His penis, no longer distracted by the differences between his hands and my parts, was much more responsive to my summoning spells.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 9

Writing No Responses »

May 102010

Every single day, for months, we have had sex. Now that we’ve begun the habit, it ‘s hard to break. Even if I’m sick and can’t handle the taste of pleasure for myself, I make sure to give him some. After a while, even the most exquisite pleasures become ordinary, and it’s time to revisit old favorites with a new eye.

I could tell the first time I got this handjob thing right. His right hand started flapping in the air, exactly the way a dog kicks his leg in the air if you scratch the right spot. The mood dissolved in laughter, but I was on the right track.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 8

Writing No Responses »

May 032010

Generally speaking, men come with penises. I know there are exceptions, but I’ve not been fortunate enough to know any of the exceptions well enough for the difference to matter.

At this point in my life I have over twenty-five years experience in penis-handling. I’ll freely admit that I haven’t met as many penises as I’d like, but I’ve been able to form a general understanding of their behavior.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 7

Writing No Responses »

Apr 262010

Where once there was nothing on the shelves but KY, now there are a hundred different sex lubricants on the market, and they have features.

Most lubricants are water-based so that they may be used with latex condoms. Sensual and slippery, they offer vitamin E or an engineered resemblance to a fertile woman’s vaginal fluids. Not all features are welcome. When I’m fucking my mate, I want my lube to provide a slick ride. Fertility is not something I wish to consider.

The King-Sized Bed: Chapter 6

Writing No Responses »

Apr 192010

Pavlovian conditioning brings on twitchy, Manchurian Candidate-like reactions from some people, but it’s a useful technique in bed. I learned to enjoy giving fellatio by fooling my tongue with chocolate. How could I teach my mate to love the lash? Not tolerate it–as he had done in the past–but ask for it, like a treat for special occasions.
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