Pleasure is a serious business
Having just spent the better part of an hour with my sizeable dick deep in and out of Carlos’s throat, I pulled out and licked up a string of saliva that had found its way down into the cleft between his firm pecs.
‘OK. I have to ask: How did you get so good at this?”
Carlos smiled and looked up at me from his position with his head hanging off the edge of the bed.
“He said that when you ask me that question, you’re ready for him.”
“You’ll see. For now, it’s time to get back to work.”
Carlos flipped over onto his stomach and then onto his knees with his chest on the bed, his gorgeous dancer’s ass high in the air. His hole clenched and unclenched, beckoning me in.
I accepted his invitation.
Which is how I found myself two weeks later, naked and kneeling before a darkly handsome bearded man, staring at what was the biggest uncut dick I had ever seen in real life. An enormous mattress, with four solid wood posts dominated the centre of the room, mounted at what I was to discover was his waist height.
“What, I wondered, had I gotten myself into?”
He was naked, sitting in a huge leather chair. Next to him was a large metal container with wisps of steam escaping from the lid.
“I’m assuming you’ve not had any sex or drugs for the past week. His voice was deep and commanding No jerking off, either.”
I nodded. Carlos had told me not to talk unless he asked me to speak.
“Carlos showed you how to breathe deeply and release your diaphragm?”
I nodded again.
“Good. He also taught you the alternate nostril breathing technique I require?”
Another nod. Carlos had spent some enjoyable naked time teaching me the yogic breathing technique known as Pranayama. I found it to be something of a natural high.
“Again, good. “You’re going to need all the air you can get. I like to get in deep and stay there long.”
I started drooling.
“Get over here and start licking my balls. Nothing else. Practice your deep breathing Focus on my scent while I explain what’s going to happen.”
I sniffed the length of his thick member, resisting the temptation to get the swelling head into my mouth. I already wondered how much of his thickness I’d be able to get into my throat before my gag reflex kicked in.
“First, I’m going wrap your jaw in a hot towel and loosen you up. Then, I’m going to massage your neck and shoulders I’ll spend some time digging into a particular point in your jaw. I’ll warn you now. That’s going to be uncomfortable.”
He shifted his balls so that I could sniff and lick the underside of his sac.
“But worth it. You’ll see.”
I snorted my agreement.
“Then, I’m going to stretch you out on the bed with your head over the edge. Your neck will be fully supported, but your mouth and throat will be at exactly the height of my dick. You can hold onto the posts to maintain your position. I want your hole to stay where it is.”
He paused, with what I felt might be a slight grin.
“I’ll put a blindfold on to help you concentrate. Now, turn around and look at the bed. Think about how happy you’re going to make me while I start loosening you up.”
I turned around and did as he said. He took out hot towels from the container next to his chair and wrapped them around my face. They were always a favourite part of my trips to the barber, but now began to see they could also be used for something other than a closer shave.
The neck and shoulder massage felt terrific. The jaw point was, as he told me, uncomfortable. He worked his powerful thumbs in and around my jaw joint, firmly, with increasing pressure until I felt a small popping release.
“Good. You’re ready. Get up on the bed. Lie down and get your head where I told you. Open wide and stick your tongue all the way out.”
I did as he said. The edge of the mattress fit into the base of my skull. He wrapped a black silk blindfold around my head. I opened my mouth, wider than I ever had before, with my tongue extended and already dripping saliva. He moved his fingers into my slippery hole, pressing down into my throat, stimulating a further flood of spit.
I lost track of time, but we spent what must have been hours with his cock in my mouth and throat. First, on my tongue then teasing around my lips. Then, little by little deeper and deeper, stopping, pulling out, giving me time to breathe. And then again. Each time, a little deeper. Each time, a little longer before pulling out, until he was plunging the entire length of his massive dick in and out of my throat, as if it had been custom tailored to suit his unusual dimensions. Actually it was as if my whole body had been custom-tailored, and on several different sensory levels.
We got to a point where he would hold it in as far as he could, just until the point when I started to see stars. Then he’d slowly pull all the way out, wait while I caught my breath, and then forcefully shove it all the way back in, moving a bit in circles to stimulate what, according to his moans, were pleasurable spasms squeezing his rock-hard dick. His balls bounced against my forehead and I could feel his pubic hair grinding into my chin.
And then he came, with a deep roar, buried all the way down my throat.
When he finished shooting, he pulled out slowly, stopping in my mouth so that I could clean his dickhead, making sure I got the tip of my tongue deep into his slit.
He took off the blindfold and smiled at me.
“We’ve made a good start. Next time, we’ll add some work on your ass.”
Because the French Understand that Pleasure Is a Serious Business (based on real events)
In 1972, I was living and working in Paris. I was in full 22-year-old hormonal frenzy, coupled with no idea of what to do other than have sex with as many men as possible accompanied by a wide range of recreational drugs.
J-P, then in his 40s, had spent time in India, wandering through Asia and studying various spiritual traditions and disciplines. He also had what I now understand was a terrific marketing approach (in addition to his amazing dick, still, after decades of experience, the thickest and longest I’ve had the pleasure of welcoming into my orifices).
You had to be recommended to him by one of his approved partners for an initial training session, which involved meditation and yogic pranayama to open both nostrils and reduce choking / oxygen deprivation / loss of consciousness. He had a bed with four solid wooden posts and the mattress mounted so that your head went over the edge, opening your throat at exactly the level at which he liked to thrust — deep. He particularly enjoyed a throat’s muscle spasming, so he liked to keep it in for quite some time/ He claimed to have taken his teaching method from how sword-swallowers learned to relax their throats .He also insisted that a blindfold aided concentration (which it did),
There was a lot of instruction, a lot of delayed gratification, and, in what has been a full and satisfying Scorpio sex life for me, sexual high points that can still get me hard. If you passed the oral teaching session (I did), he agreed to take you into his particular, hot and horny community of seekers.
Ah, the 70s … But there you have it — I wound up becoming an editor, model, writer, poet, yoga teacher, body worker, porn actor, escort, and global financial communications strategist — and it all started in the 14th arrondissement with J-P, a true sensei with phenomenal teaching skills.
J-P died during the AIDS epidemic, a devastating loss. I wrote the following poem in his honour, and, whenever I read it, I can feel my breath deepening and my jaw relaxing. I can still taste him, and it always makes me smile.
Reproductive mission accomplished,
the virus finds itself
reduced to shrapnel in the semen
loitering — possibly with intent —
in ejaculate’s slippery warmth,
suggests post-plague reality will require —
in addition to a vaccine — adjectives
worthy of the complexity
now swirling on the tongue,
a conscious recycling initiative
might better suit the newest normal —
a blend of ingredients already on hand — e.g.,
Elegant / Lean Chewy / Muscular
Nuanced / Airy Herbaceous / Bold
Delicate / Subtle Brooding / Pungent
Velvety / Supple Persistent / Flamboyant —
labels borrowed verbatim
from wine-tasting scripts,
whatever else may change —
as both poets and epidemiologists know —
word of mouth is a constant.
J-P’s Updated 10-steps to Happier Deep-Throating
Accomplished deep-throating isn’t a mysterious God-given talent that one either has or doesn’t — it’s a learned skill, and everyone can do it. It just takes practice and determination. Lots of both.
- Advances in sex toys mean that you don’t require someone with a huge dick to get started. I recommend finding a buddy who shares your desire to boldly go where too few men have gone before.
- Buy a set of graduated dildoes (I suggest three). Start with just-larger-than-looks-easy and go Goldilocks. But stay within human dimensions. Dragon-dick dildoes are better suited to fisting practitioners.
- Use available warmth to loosen up jaw and throat. Hot towels, microwaved hot packs for jaw-joint stiffness, if possible, warm-up time in a hot tub (soaking up to your nose) or sauna. You and your buddy can help massage your necks and shoulders and work on your jaw joints.
- The practice of Pranayama will open up both nostrils (under normal breathing patterns, one nostril is usually more open than the other in an alternating cycle). Pranayama also results in diaphragmatic breathing so that your lungs are working at full capacity (most of us only use about 1/3 of our lung capacity).
- Ten minutes of meditation before diving in. Thanks to the pranayama, your breathing is already deepened. I prefer the Zen approach, to clear the mind of chatter, but if meditating with a goal works for you, imagine what success would look like.
- Since you’ll be working with a non-attached penis substitute, the height of mattress / massage table isn’t crucial. Just make sure your throat is fully extended.
- A blindfold helps concentration.
- I’m a classicist re lubrication. I like saliva. Lots of saliva, the mucus-ier, the better. But whatever works for you.
- Take it very slowly and keep breathing deeply. Learn to get to just the point before you start to choke and hold it. Then withdraw and take a short break I recommend three deep breaths between insertions.
- When you and your buddy are comfortable with taking your act on the road, find a willing huge dick online and the two of you can have a LOT of fun, either on your own or together. And think fondly of J-P. I always do.
About the author
James W. Gaynor is a poet, still alive in New York City. His most recent collection of poems is a memoir of the AIDS years, “I’ll Miss You Later,”