I wasn't trying to be a smartypants. I just wanted to comment that one can seek out similar types for totally different reasons. It is like two different people looking at the same painting or listening to the same piece of music and enjoying it for completely DIFFERENT reasons.
It always amazes me that some consider attraction to the same sex or opposite sex or both as being some kind of orientation, yet the acts you do as somehow being "learned'. I didn't get to top until two years past my loss of virginity because I was young and stupid and thought only hung guys could top. I was SO unsatisfied with feeling like the rest of my life would be about "pleasing" penises just to be close to a man's body and hoping too that there was a tiny bit of appreciation and YES love from the heart behind that cock.
Seriously I was buying into the stereotypes that gay men must live miserable lives -- no family, and the uncomfortability of having tired/sore body parts trying to please someone's penis... My first fuck was life shattering. The story is rather sad... A restroom on campus had writing on the wall from someone wishing to PAY a hot college student to be his partner on weekends -- with possibility of a car and apartment. I was so angry that I erased those writings on the wall when I saw them -- not because of some superior morality, but because inside I did not feel hot and was angry that I would never be anyone's "ideal": I wasn't hung like I wished I was; and though I was in shape, parts of my body are not perfect... Anyway, one day I peeked throught the hole between the stalls and saw the guy in the process of writing those messages. I guess he wasn't as picky as I had imagined him to be as he asked me to go with him to a hotel... (Not paid mind you, just to go to the hotel with him.)
He wasn't an attractive man. He wasn't ugly, just very plain. He had a very sad story to tell. He wasn't some rich dude wanting a young stud to control, but a heart broken man. He had found the love of his life, and they had what he thought was a good life. Then one day his "lover" told him that he needed to travel to California as a relative had died, and that he needed money to help settle the legal aspects of the estate. The man gave his partner money, and then the partner disappeared. He was so worried that he hired a private eye to find out if he had been killed or what... Turns out that the dude just wanted out of the relationship, and felt that since they had been together for a while that he was entitiled to get some money out of the arrangement. Anyway, the man was devistated. While it had happened a few years back, he had never healed form his broken heart. Still he had sexual needs. He just didn't ever want to fall in love again. So he decided that if he paid for sex, then there was no risk of ever thinking it was about love. He added that he wanted what he considered "hot" simply because if he was paying for it, he might as well get someone with his ideal of the perfect body.
I felt really bad that I had misjudged the guy. Anyway, he was the first man that ever let me inside even though I am only average endowed. While we never met again, I will be forever greatful. I hope if he is still alive, that he finally found someone who he could love and trust to never break his heart.
It was that first penetration where I realized that gay sex could be wonderful. I didn't know if I was cuming, dying, needing to take a piss, experiencing Christmas and the 4th of July combined or what. All I know is that I finally felt total satisfaction. It wasn't about a jackrabbit fuck to the finish line to win some race, but like slow steam ship ride down a river. (If you can get your bottom partner to cum just before you do, then the intensity of his orgasm at the source of origin will cause a cascading affect where you cannot help but explode your essence into the core of his body.)
I cannot tell you that every time I fucked men after that, that they were all out of this world, fantastic orgasms, but they were all so much worth it. Add to that the ones who wanted to hold and be held before and after. Those that wanted to hang around and talk. Those that wanted to kiss me and thank me.
Yes that is why I can referr to fucking a man as the closest thing to heaven on earth. You can never get closer to a guy physically and emotionally than when you are inside him. The fact that men are not "supposed" to be that close makes it all that more special. I can understand why it was once described as "the love that dare not speak its name".
They say that the eyes are the windows to someone's soul, but being inside a guy is to be in front of a warm hearth inside his soul. Sure the connection cannot last forever, but during that "connection" you become one to the point where you wish that time itself could be haulted to prolong that merger. I have also found that while the years have past for many of them, when I temporarily left a part of me physically inside them, I also left a part of me that will always wish that they found happiness in wherever their life's journey took them.
My only regret is that such an intense sensations and emotions during the merger does not create life -- it should.
Brilliant. I love the way you worded that. Thank you.
