what you do
It seems contradictory but it makes sense when you think about it. Let me elaborate. A few posts back, @mistressmaddie pointed out that sometimes all that's needed is a good wham-bam-thank-you-man when I pointed out I liked my men to connect both in and out of bed. And I agree! Sometimes all that's needed is a good dicking and nothing more. Been there. Done them. I've slept with men just because I could.
But I guess I am turned on more by someone getting turned on by being with me. And being 'turned on' is more than just the rush of blood to the corpora cavernosa. We all know how that works. It can happen while you're driving, just by the vibrations, damnit! Countless men make their money fucking other men with the help of some Sildenafil: the gay-for-pay phenomena has even gotten hours of TV talking shows dedicated to it. Anybody can take a blue angel and be ready for some pounding at the drop of a hat. It's what comes with a hard dick what makes sex good, according to me.
So it goes like this: I like to feel that there's some feeling underneath his clothes, as Shakira says. I find that the exchange of affection is essential for a good fuck. When you watch any of the MachoFucker videos, you're awed by the endowment and the prowess, but I find the proceedings to be a little mechanic. Same with any porn that scratches the 'gay-for-pay' mystique. Even Broke Straight Guys is better when the studs in question kiss and suck and lick each other's cocks. And some of them would give some gold star gays a run for their money when it comes to nookie. For me, it's a chain reaction. Sexual attraction does not happen in a vacuum. Like every other chemical reaction, it needs at least two ingredients. Like people say, it takes two to tango.
But I digress. I came here to talk about the hardcore and the gentle. So when you're kissed like you're missed an fucked like you're hated, that's when the magic happens. You see, it's the affection, the connection, the knowing that the man who's fucking you is feeling the same way you're feeling what gets me going. That's why the kissing, the touching, the feel of his hands and lips and skin before he fucks me are so important. His taste, his hands all over you. That's what gets the motor going. All the sensual little nothings you do when you start to play, that's what makes your blood boil without any extraneous interference. It's just the two of you. Foreplay is king.
Then the hardcore: after you have tasted and probed and licked each other, he slides into you and voila! There it is. He works his magic. He licks, he sucks, he pounds. And yo can feel every little bit of him. And he does not need be gentle. He can go as hard as he wants. Fuck you like he means it. Because you can take it. He can talk as dirty as he wants because that turns you on, too. And he can sweat and dribble and moan and groan. And you expect him to. He'll grab you for dear life and guide your hips and move you around and put you in that position where the angle is just right. And go at it with gusto. Your head spins. Your legs buckle. And he keeps going.
And when all is said and done, the bodies spent, the heart going back under 130 BPM, then you can go back to kissing, to joking, to talking. And all this is not necessary, but I find it like it's an easy progression. You could just as well go take a shower. But after all, you have just been as intimate as one can be with someone else. He's literally been part of you, even if briefly, so a few minutes getting your bearings and goofing around will not hurt. The afterglow, right? That little bit of pillow talk always goes a long way.
So that's all. I just wanted to talk about it. I'm the king of TMI. Told you this blog is about solipsism. See ya.