I came in my door as the sun was already going down, my mind searching for the next important thing to do and... rejecting them. I was hungry, there were dishes to do, but something in my hind brain put it all aside; right off the bat. I had been thinking about this moment all day, as silly as it kind of felt. I had been thinking about how to do it this time, resulting in this idea of a strange ad hoc ritual. I had been thinking of it so long that I felt leaking precum all afternoon as I made spreadsheets at my desk; the more dreary the formula the more disruptive the urge. Okay. This time I'll do it.
I'm single again. And when it's been a few days, when I've been busy every waking moment for another week, and I become really horny, I find ways to treat myself. Sometimes it's with a very specific erotic scenario in the porn I look up (lesbian seduction, first gay experience, romantic oral, lesbian kissing, foreskin, cock worship, old/young), or something especially involved I do to my own body (something slippery to slide all over my scrotum, something to do to my ass, something very gentle to do to my penis while something is inside me), but not this time. This time I had a completely new idea, though probably cliché, and for more than one reason I know I needed it more badly than anything else.
I went into my room, thankfully far cooler than the hot day. I went right for the full-length mirror and ignored the last bit of my embarrassment. Without fantasy, without absent-mindedness, without pretending a partner or an act, I did what I hadn't done since I first discovered touching myself as a kid: I discovered my body. I watched myself take every clothe off, and I looked at myself.
I could no longer call myself young; that was gone. I could no longer call myself thin; I was just barely thinner than chubby and just barely plumper than healthy. I was done saying that I just hadn't had time to start cycling or making good food. This is me. I have a body. I have a slightly protruding tummy, nice hair, a long penis with attractively tight foreskin, strong arms, and a kind-looking face, formerly baby-faced, tired with kindness. This is my body and I'm going to like it.
So I did something that no partner had bothered to do for me in a long time: I touched prosaic parts of me as though they were erogenous zones and allowed my body to feel liked and wanted. My mouth opened and my eyes dimmed with the sensation, even almost smiling as though someone was showing me affection. My hips, my sides, my thighs, my scrotum, I watched myself being touched and made it slow. 'I'm going to do it this time', I thought. 'I never end up doing it when the time comes but there's no reason not to so I'm totally going to do it.'
I slowly started to touch my penis, starting with a tickle of the balls down below, then stroking the shaft slowly and lovingly up and down from the base (not squeezing too hard, never except in extreme moments). I let myself watch my own pleasure face for the first time, and imagined no one else in the room doing all these things for me. 'I'm giving myself an orgasm and it looks great', I thought.
And it was great. As I continued I watched my pelvis begin to thrust, as though it was convinced it was deep in some hole and trying to get deeper, and as the sensation became intense my ass arched lower, my penis further forward, presenting itself, asking itself to please keep going. I gladly kept going. I looked at my torso, my face, my cock, like a lover would, and chose that this lover deserved a good orgasm. With so little attention to it in the last week, I soon felt the rush through my testicles and then my penis, and my hot semen came over my fingers in a needy series of pulses. My other hand was touching my torso up and down, my face pleading and thankful. This is what lovers see and now I'm the lover. Far more semen than usual poured down my fingers and penis, touching my scrotum, a visual that ignited my final gust of horniness and pleasure.
But I already felt the need fading and I accepted it: once the orgasm left me, my promise to lick and swallow every drop was rejected; I no longer hungered for the idea and I was ready to wash it off. As always, I wondered how common this was among men: am I alone in this or is this everywhere? How many men hunger for the idea of cock in their mouths, lavishing semen out with hungry passion and drinking it—only to become straight again after they cum? How many men have a Jeckyl/Hyde experience with horny gayness?
There was no shame in it for me, there's everything right about loving one gender or another, and penises aren't even something only men have; it's just that because this was the shape of my attraction to men (only sexual, and only until I cum) it would never be a relationship: I had developed a romantic life with women and a deep hunger for men that arose only with sexual frustration. No course of action sounded like a good idea, neither romantic nor purely physical, but in the moment it seemed like the perfect thing to do: to find a very specific type of man and to adore his penis with my mouth until I drank his semen, and let him do the same to me. Yesplease. But not now that I had cum: now I was attracted only to women again and wanted to make myself dinner.
After I ate, later that night - a hot summer night that finally becomes cool, raining even, where you just want to be outside without clothes -- I had become sexually awakened again. And it was so powerful this time I knew I had to reach out somewhere; if it wasn't in writing, some sort of invitation to someone to have sex, then I swear I would just go streaking in the rain. It was becoming that bad. So I did. It wasn't Craigslist, I didn't have a deathwish... it was on a sex personals website (still risky and swarming with dudebros), and I didn't know if I would even follow up or if I was just writing fanfiction of my own life.
Title: To all lost souls: you have a right to your orgasm, so let's share one
Text:
Tell me if you've heard this one before: you love women, and have loved women your whole sexual life, but have a nagging thought about how attractive penises are; and about how you'd like to experience sex as a romantic sensual act but without politics. You love being touched, and need to be treated like it's fun to touch you, and because of this you balk from muscular or conventionally "hot" men because you think they'll think that's unmanly. You want someone like you, who's a little plump, who likes to be vulnerable, who's a good lover, and who's bursting with hunger at the excitement of finally knowing what it's like to take turns loving each other's bodies with someone with a cock.
