Nirvana Fucking

He was magnificent, caring loving, he’d open me with his tongue and fingers, and I’d do the same for him, and then we’d go for it turn by turn, couldn’t stop. The first sign that things were moving onto another dimension was on Ron’s side. I’d take a breather, still inside him, and he’d clench hold me, quite lightly, sort of milking me while I played with his nipples and he played with my balls or put a finger inside me. We’d keep this up as long as we could – sort of nirvana plateau, ecstasy – and then he’d suddenly go into spasm, incredible feelings for me, and he’d be out his mind; and then I’d start thrusting again, and so on.

So he tried that on me, alternating long, slow thrusting – and, Jesus, was he a master! – with long, still passages, when he’d hardly move, and I’d lightly grip him and get myself flickering, and then it would go out of control, and I’d be coming and coming; and then eventually it would kind of fuse into a huge, generalized sensation, my whole body shaking and contracting, as he drove into me, and we’d shout the rooftops down – and then start all over again. (that’s the good thing about that stuff – and no hangover in the morning, just more of the same. Aren’t we lucky, mate! You’ve obviously had the same experience. The secret is surrender, stillness and patience; loving yourself as well as the other. Your word, intimacy. Creating something. Cheers – JEREMY