Recently a young friend wanted to spice up the long-term
sex life he has with his mature-age fuck-buddy.
“I want you
to leave the apartment door open so that I can arrive, let myself in and then
find you ready for sex. In fact, I want you naked on the bed, blindfolded, arse
lubed and ready for me to immediately plunge into. And NO TALKING!”
Later I
spoke to both of them about what happened, their feelings and whether it was a
successful idea or not ...
The
Younger “Anonymous Stalker”:
He’d been
watching porn on his computer and became obsessed with the hotel bedroom action
where one – or many more – anonymous dudes arrive, strip, fuck the host and
leave without the recipient knowing anything about them other than a mini
Grindr profile or a quick phone chat giving the room number. From the stalker’s
point of view, he’s invited there and is handed full control of the situation. Because
there is no eye contact this can mean that the visitor’s not being judged on age,
body mass, skin colour or sexual experience. He’s been contacted because the
host wants pure physical sex without any emotion, romantic touching, kissing or
mutual clothing removal. The stalker wants to feel a bit dirty, a bit sleazy by
almost breaking into the strange environment, finding his willing prey and then
going at his own pace to fuck the host. He also knows that once the deed is
done, there’s no showering or cleaning up, just wipe off, pull up the trousers,
and leave. The whole thing would probably not take more than 5 to 10 minutes,
maximum. It’s pure animal fucking without any emotion or involvement. And
chances are it’s all being secretly filmed so that the host can look at it
later and see who it really was that fucked him.
And how did
my young friend feel about this copycat encounter? He loved every minute. He
said that he was incredibly turned-on by the thought of being totally in charge,
the idea of secretly sneaking into the house and being able to violate his
buddy. While fucking him, he did feel it a little odd that there was no real
communication between the two of them, but hey, his cock was getting well
serviced and that’s what it was all about. If his host was secretly filming it
that would have been an extra turn-on, but he couldn’t see any tell-tale red
light. He felt relieved that he didn’t have to put any effort into the
encounter other than his thrusting. No kissing, not much touching, no
pillow-talk – it was all so easy – and exciting. It was a bit different to the
hotel room scenario as they knew each other, but he loved the freedom of being
a sly slut, sneaking into a man’s home, being the aggressor without any
responsibility and simply living the scene just as all that erotic hotel sex
with strangers had shown him.
The Mature-Age
Host:
He was a
bit surprised at the suggestion, but happy to make his younger lover excited.
The day and time were fixed, he lubed his arse in readiness, and when he heard
the door open and then close, he slipped the mask over his eyes, put the buttocks
into the air and took a long, deep sniff from the popper (amyl) bottle. He knew
it was genuinely his fuck buddy, so felt safe, though he was very aware of a
heightened awareness through his ears. He heard the familiar unzipping of the
trousers, the sound of him taking a sniff from the bottle, but when all was
silent for a moment he was suddenly aware that his senses were extremely sharp
and on edge. It was like a charge of electricity when fingertips touched his
nipples. He was acutely aware of his erection as it twitched and strengthened
stronger than he had known it in a long time. Without so much as a finger of preparation,
the big head of his buddy slipped earnestly and deeply inside him. In his
mind’s eye he felt that he was visually looking at it as it began to plunge
deeper and deeper, in and out. They both continued their popper assistance with
a sniff or two of enjoyment with the only other sound in the room being the
slapping of balls and bodies. The blindfolded host was alive to every nuance of
movement and touch, especially as he felt the muscle spasms of imminent
climaxing followed by the deep thrusts of his buddy cumming inside of him.
Within seconds he felt the withdrawal and heard the familiar plop as it exited
his body. With a wipe of the towel, the noise of the zipper retracing itself
and the door being closed, he knew it was over.
 |
| Photos courtesy of Tumblr |
And what
did he feel? He’d had exciting sensory sex but in a detached sort of way. He
was simply the receptacle for his friend’s physical horniness, a convenient
piece of man-meat that could be used and abused in whatever way the anonymous
guest chose. There was no verbal communication whatsoever, no stimuli connected
through eye-contact, no emotional attachment. He did then realise that he got
little out of it, and somehow felt somewhat empty. He was alone and there
wasn’t even the memory of the pleasures derived from naked body contact, nor
from the lasting sensual pleasures of locked lips. After lifting the blindfold
and getting up to lock the door, he decided that he didn’t even want to
masturbate – he felt very much alone. It was a lesson in learning that just
having an anonymous man use you for his sex is not enough. Good sex comes from
a multiple of sensory and sensual stimuli combining together to leave an
emotional satisfaction long after your sexual partner has departed. It takes
two enthusiastic multi-disciplinary men to achieve that.
There you
have it – Two men. One Sex act. Two different feelings. A timely reminder that
there’s two sides to every sexual encounter.
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