The Readiness States

October 1, 2015

Let´s analyse something that we take pretty much for granted every time we aim for a satisfactory climax. It´s about being ready, ready to be blessed with the most beautiful moment(s) our sexual organs can provide us with.

Men can be fast in making themselves cum, think of a sports-car accelerating from 0 to 65 mph within mere seconds. While a driver most certainly will be excited here, the quick-jerker may hardly encounter arousing fun or satisfactory cumming in his act.


The opposite of such a rushed jerking is edging, with which we deliberately postpone PONR until we feel poised to shoot. – Recently I discovered considerations on our body´s readyness states, neatly expressed by in his brilliant blog! Let me elaborate on´s observations.

There are few kinds of being ready or feeling ready for triggering sexual release (i.e. climax). When we choose to masturbate with the intention to finish with an ejaculation, we find ourselves in a (certain) readiness state, but we are still far from – what calls – being ripe.

This is the rule of thumb: the more ripe (the more ready) we are, the more blissful our climactic experience will be. But becoming ripe requires time! And even with time at hand, there are two properties of you, which don´t ripen with the same velocity: your body in opposition to your soul!

Your physical ripeness shall be always ahead of your emotional ripeness! Making both congruent is the key for climactic bliss and deep satisfaction! And edging is the method to achieve this congruence!

The body usually is ready much faster. Not only because you enter your masturbatory activity with a certain level of arousal to begin with. Many factors upfront determine how much loaded you are initially, not least the fact that nature equipped us with a (physical) system being ready on short notice (to secure procreation), if necessary within seconds (remember the race-car metaphor above). Thus your body feels ready shortly after you started masturbating.

Still, your body needs time too. At least if you want much from your ejaculation (a fulfilling one that is). If you want your system to feel ripe for a satisfactory release. Think of your cock getting hard, your balls swelling some and your Cowpers glands oozing precum. All the while your cum-factories secrete and store your juices until you make them flow. You are physically truly ripe when you feel vasocongested in your whole reproductive system. You really need to discharge at that point. puts it this way:

When you are physically ripe, your body becomes hypersensitive to the touch and you will feel fully pressurized and full of cum.

edge state

You may be ripe in a rational sense, just sensing that your system is ready for cumming and you don´t see a reason not to trigger PONR. But that is not the emotional ripeness is referring to when he says:

When you are emotionally ripe, everything inside you begins to demand ejaculation, and it soon becomes an obsession. I wanna cum will repeat itself unrelentingly in your mind. You’ll become oblivious to what’s going on around you: all you will lust and care about is to ejaculate…

Such a readiness state of your soul takes a lot of time (mostly) to be established. It is a more complex process of accumulating arousal and lust, it is a more holistic affaire, affecting your neural system, your mind and psyche, than having your cock ready to shoot.

You just can not short-cut your body into such a mental state, not least because distraction can easily happen for many reasons. You really have to ripen into it. By the way, a certain level of soul-ripeness is required for experiencing an orgasm (as opposed to ejaculation), look up the posts covering orgasm!

As I said, edging is the method! It´s the technique to establish ripeness of body & soul. You „just“ have to fight your increasing urge for triggering yourself. Edgers who edge for the sake of it, who don´t want to pump up their load but savor their state of ripeness on end, will be better off to reach the ultimate state of emotional ripeness (to feel as being one with ones cock), because that exactly is their aim (compare here for emotional stages while edging in this post).

Now such is beyond your state of ripeness and your concept for edging. Because you want to just cum and nothing but cum. You want to release, you want to shoot, you want to pump and nothing else. And because of being ever so close to fall over the edge you certainly need a lot of will-power not to trigger your reflex, yet. As long as you consider to trigger your ejaculation you may not have reached that ripeness state of your soul. That´s why being edged by a partner, who knows you and who can read your behavior, may be a great option for finding climactic bliss!


The man in the gif above appears to be ripe both physically and emotionally. His lover (whom he might be riding) just needs to stimulate his nipples to make the guy release his milk in what appears to be an overflow, a heavy emission!

As a solosexual it needs experience and will-power to synchronize your readiness states assuring you climactic bliss and deep satisfaction eventually. Just like mastered this:

…you will have to temper your stroke speed to sometimes ridiculously low rates as you keep nurturing your soul with all the pleasure it requires to quench its needs. …this is why I could only stroke once every 30 seconds or so. Physically, I was ripe : my cock was achingly overpressured, my balls were congested with cum. My body was ready and willing to spill the seeds. But my soul was not satiated yet: I felt I still needed to be edged. So I continued stroking at the very slow speed I required to keep both my body on its toes, eager and ready, and my soul edged until it reached the same level of readiness.

Being aware of the different and mostly not congruent readiness states of body and soul explains well why we see guys calmly watching themselves cum or chatter right before and after or thru their ejaculations (even producing big loads) as if nothing really special was happening, while other guys moan and totally surrender, moved by very intense sensations before and while shooting their milk, needing to regain their senses after their climaxes (nicely illustrated in part 3 of this story!). And if their bodies bucked and convulsed, most likely their ejaculations were embedded in orgasms, as their high-level arousal discharged all along.

Men have these options and a whole range of anything in between. And to be able to be in control of that, that is the real beauty of our sexuality!

Sharing His Sanctum (3)

September 16, 2015

Guest post: This is a story by Tom (loyal reader) to pay homage to this blog!

You start to play once again with your cock, now so close for me to see the veins running through it.  I can see the way your urethral opening flares when a new bead of precum emerges. I can see the way your foreskin, so tight around your shaft, is able to still advance and shelter your pointed head, protecting that delicate skin to keep it moist and sensitive. I can now see the smoothness of your foreskin’s edge as you gather it in front of your tip, and watch how it slides smoothly back and over your corona, finally coming to rest as it stretches over your mid shaft. I can examine that area of skin, your frenulum, now turned inside out, and watch how your sticky fingers return to this area because the sensations are so sweet.


You now take one hand, followed by the other, and stroke upward from the base to your tip. You do this upstroke about five times before reversing it in a backward stroke that you repeat similarly. Five strokes with each hand forward; five strokes with each hand back. You continue to drool and your stroking spreads the nectar over your wet surface. When this becomes too intense you start to back off, using only one finger to flick the underside of your shaft, tracing the length of your ridged band, that place of gathered skin and nerve endings that is simply electric.

“Fuck I can feel the fluid inside me starting to move,” you say, and I lick my lips in anticipation for what is in store.

As you continue this agonizing tease of your frenulum, your cock swells, and you once again are making conscious effort to breathe steadily and regularly. Your hips start to move, as if your cock has taken control of your body and is demanding more stimulation. Your finger, however, maintains the lightest of touch, and all your hips are able to do is circle your sweet spot over your fingertip.

You are unable to obtain deeper pressure. This tease is doing wonders for your leakage, and your cock is now literally drooling with precum that you catch on your finger and use to further moisten your ridged band. You now move your finger up and over your glans, circling your drooling slit, and then back to your sweet spot, then back to your head, in a cycle of agonizing ecstasy that is clearly driving you wild. “Must…stay…relaxed…” is all you can muster, as your voice dissolves into long sighs and the most delicious groans.


Once again, I bring you back into focus by asking “Tell me what is happening?”

As you try to maintain control of your breath while continuing this one finger tease of your cock, you try to answer: “I’m starting to shake…standing here…Fuck, having a hard time staying relaxed… my excitement is so fucking high…Once again feeling full, distended with my fluid…Prostate is twitching…fluid is moving….aahhh….which is why…uuuhhh….my muscles…want to pulse…”

You now take a very deep breath and start to make a prolonged and mournful cry as you suddenly stop all stimulation. Once again we enter that suspended moment, when you are clearly in danger of spilling over into the inevitable reflex of full-on ejaculation, yet trying with all your might to hold yourself off. I know that I am either going to be met with a palmful of your milk, or it is going to hit me full force in the face. I am prepared for either scenario.

Your opening dilates, and once again the tap is open and flow begins. Because your cock is so hard and is pointing at an angle upward, your cum leaves your slit and slides down the underside of your glans to the lower end of your frenulum where it then falls off into a steady stream into my waiting hand.  The flow is uninterrupted for about 5 to 6 long seconds as you take another breath in order to moan even more deeply. Your body starts to shake as this eruption starts to slow. I am left with a pool of your beautiful, white produce in my palm.


Coming down now, you collect yourself and smile at me. We both look at what I am holding and you suggest we taste it together.  We each submerge a fingertip in the warm, silky liquid and once covered, we bring it to our mouths. Looking deeply into each other, we taste your milk at the same time. How can I state the bliss I feel in this moment, the connection to you and to your pleasure?

I can only say that your taste is superb. It is warm and silky, salty and sweet at the same time. We go back in for seconds, clearly both of us a bit greedy for this man produce that you have just created with stimulation and sexual excitement. I am taken away by the smell, texture, and taste, so powerful to me as a representation of your essence. You take some more and rub it over your glans and shaft, and then turn and move back to the bed, repositioning yourself as I continue to hold what remains. “Finish it,” you say, and I bring up my hand and engulf the remainder.  “I am now a part of you,” you say, and I know this to be true as I swallow you.

Now we move on to an extended display of edging. You are again back on the bed facing me with your legs spread. You once again use your hand to push your cock away from your body so that it stands fully upright.  Despite two emissions and almost two hours of cock and ass play you are still rock hard. Amazingly, I still see precum welling up at your tip. You spit into your hand and use it to revitalize your drying cum, and then start to move through a series of cock strokes and teases that take both our breaths away as you rise and fall and dance around your edge. Your knowledge of different ways of stimulating your member is vast and seemingly limitless because of the infinite combinations that you can make.

One of your favorites, you tell me, is a stroke called the Count-Up which you proceed to demonstrate. First you ask me to name a number between 10 and 15. I say 18. You call me cheeky.  You start a long, slow downstroke with one hand from your glans to your cock base and over your balls, followed in turn by the other. You reverse this full stroke moving upward, one hand following the other. Count 1, although really it is four strokes. You then repeat this with two alternating downward strokes followed by two alternating upstrokes from each hand. Count 2, but it’s 4 strokes and a light goes off as to why you called me cheeky. You move on to three alternating strokes downward followed by three alternating strokes upward. Count 3. You are breathing heavily by the time you reach Count 10, especially on the upstroke which clearly is driving you crazy.

By Count 13 you have to stop after the downstroke to come down off the edge this has taken you toward. Composure once again regained, you start the slow, agonizing process of moving through 13 upstrokes, which is really 26. Each one has you moaning “Fuck” as your hand passes over your coronal ridge. Count 13. I start to wonder if you will be able to make it to 18 without passing the point of no return, and I ask you just that. You look at me, and in a half grimace, half smile because you are slowly counting downward toward 14, you say “It may take awhile…because I will have to stop and start…ahhh…approaching it…and then backing off…uuhhh…but that is what this…uuhhh…fucking stroke is all about” as your body jumps and quivers by the end of that round.

Again taking a break, you encircle your balls to pull them out, stretching your scrotum to help. You also take a firm hold of your glans and squeeze, another technique you say you use to help you off the edge. By Count 15 you are having a hard time even making it through half a round without having to stop. Your cock is so hard and red and glazed from all of the new precum now mixed with your semen from your previous two emissions. But like an adventurer on a search for lost treasure you muster onward, using every ounce of willpower, breath, concentration, and practiced ability to stay relaxed in the face of this onslaught of stimulation to your already overstimulated cock, to hold off the edge, to stop before you cross over into ejaculatory oblivion. You are finally at 18, moving slowly downward.


I am amazed that you have been able to continue this, that you have not given up and simply allowed yourself a full release. You are swearing and sweating again; I can see the sheen on your chest in the light, and this adds to your incredible sexiness. You are now taking repeated, deep breaths, moaning rhythmically as you are lost in sensation but battling to stay away from the precipice.

As you finish the final downstroke you look at me and say, “You…had…to pick…18?” and all I can do is just wink and smile in admiration. You enter the final lap, just 18 upstrokes with each hand. I know that the upstrokes are the hardest to endure, as they move your sensitive foreskin and stimulate your frenulum and head in such a way that each one brings you right to the edge. You pretty much have to stop for a few seconds between strokes, and these last 18 are agonizingly long as you writhe in ecstasy at each pass. 15…..16…….17……… 18.  With the final stroke you let go of your cock, which flops down onto your belly, and you collapse, panting as you slowly come down off that final momentous stroke.

More than a few minutes go by before you collect yourself enough to look at me. I think you must be done despite not having ejaculated yet. “You must be wiped out,” I say. “Ready to stop? I would completely understand.”

But you sit back up and put your hand behind your cock, pushing it out again for full viewing. It certainly appears not to be finished based on how rigid it stands, pulsing against your hand. Just to confirm this you take your other hand and start a frenulum rub, using all five fingers and more precum.

“Well it appears you are far from done,” I say with an admiring smile. You nod but something has changed. Me, the room, the music has disappeared. You are focused solely on your cock. You massage this most sensitive part of your shaft, bringing yourself quickly back to a heightened state of arousal. “It’s time,” you whisper, more to yourself than to me, and I know this means you are driving yourself to a final release.


This last bit of edging is intense to watch. Cock-lost is what I call you, as all your concentration points toward stimulating yourself toward a final edge, then moving into a glorious launch of milk by recruiting all those ejaculatory muscles into unrestrained contraction. Your touch is light and teasing, moving from that delicious frenulum rub to strumming your ridged band to juicing your head to playing with your foreskin by moving it up and down over your glans.

You tease your coronal ridge, then back to your frenulum, then advance your prepuce, then you slowly pump your shaft from the lower portion. Your penis is the most rigid and swollen and red I have seen yet. Clear sticky fluid is leaking every few seconds. By changing the stimulation you stretch out the approach to the peak by preventing your cock from gaining a firm and direct foothold forward. Instead what you are doing is like climbing switchbacks toward orgasm.

Your breathing gets shallow, your moaning gets louder, and your body writhes. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…” is all you manage to get out as you build and build toward whatever awaits. Now back to a circling finger over your ridged band, your hips start to pump involuntarily as I can tell you are reaching the point of no return. You take in a deep breath, then start a long ecstatic cry as you suddenly stop all movement, and push out your cock toward me once again with your hand. As your cry nears the end of what remains of your breath, an eruption of cum emerges from your urethral opening. At first it flows and then quickly rises out in an arc caused by the internal buildup of pressure and the steady contraction of muscles to push it out. It runs down your shaft and splashes onto your balls which are drawn up as if to cushion the fall. Your spigot remains open for your biggest emission yet. You take in a quick breath and moan again as now your cock starts to jerk ejaculatory pumping, and semen begins pulsating out of it. After holding off for so long, you are now enjoying the intensity of full ejaculatory muscle contraction combined with a mind-blowing orgasm. Incredibly, your ejaculation is happening without any direct penile stimulation.

The first spurt arcs upward and lands on your right thigh. The second and third follow with additional force, flying through the air in a trajectory that takes them near your knee. The last three continue to decrease in intensity as this now clearer fluid streams down your shaft.

I say “Oh my God! That was fucking intense.” Before I realize what is happening you take hold of your slightly softening cock in a full circular grip and start a full on jack off. You are steady in your speed but clear in intention. You are going to try and cum again! My mouth falls open in amazement as instead of becoming refractory your cock resumes a rigid tumescence with more nectar emitting from the opening. How sensitive it must be!

There is no teasing now, none of those agonizing switchbacks, just a direct ride toward another peak with more sweet contractions if you are able to get there. I wonder how your glands could have any fluid left after all you have produced. I imagine your balls must be aching. I don’t bother asking because I don’t think you will hear me.

Cum-soaked, you fuck your hand and your hand fucks your cock. Your hips thrust upward and you grunt with each one. As your second finish approaches, your strokes shorten and focus on that most sensitive upper shaft, just under your coronal ridge, that sweet spot of foreskin, frenulum and ridged band that creates sexual lightning.


Soon you grunt “Fuuckk…cumming!!!” and your semen, now more like skim milk, watery and light-colored, spurts from your reddened head in six short arcs upward, landing in your pubic hair and lower belly while your legs twist and turn and your whole body jumps, as if the contraction of your ejaculatory muscles have taken over your entire body.

As the contractions end, you fall into the pillows, panting and moaning. Your cock starts to soften, but you scoop up your last ejaculate and take hold of your cock, focusing again on the sweet band under your ridge, and you stroke some more, moaning and grunting all over again.

After a short time you orgasm again with two small spurts. Amazingly, this produce is once again thick and milky. I just sit back now, unbelieving, but assuming there may be more. Indeed, you start to move your hand over your shaft again. Your poor cock is semi-soft and obviously extremely sensitive by your groans, yet you stroke, you harden, and as your moaning rises again you are roiled by another orgasm which leads to three more ejections of milk, one spurt reaching your belly and the other two covering your hand and dripping onto your balls.

Breathing in short burst, you take a run at a fifth orgasm, starting the most subtle of strokes at that frenulum zone that seems to have a direct path to your ejaculatory reflex. Your wet and deeply red cock is half hard as you build up your rhythm. Miraculously it hardens again, reacting to this unending stimulation, defying your hard-wired refractory reflex.


You are almost crying now you cross your peak. Your hips arc off the bed and I see two large spurts of semen shoot from your cock and land on your chest. As I watch your heaving and shaking body now covered in your beautiful milk, I am both amazed and incredibly grateful for what I have just witnessed. What you have done seems truly mythic. Your sperm filled seminal fluid is on your sweating chest. It is dripping off your softening cock. It is starting to dry on your loosening scrotum. It is dripping down your thighs. You are literally anointed in cum.

I sit and wait as you lay there, watching as your heaving chest starts to quiet. The room becomes still as we listen to each other breathe. You eventually raise yourself up to join me in your bedroom once again.  “Welcome back,” I say. And I thank you for this most breathtaking display of self-love I have ever witnessed.

I ask you how you feel about the experience, and about sharing it with me. “I am simply drained. My internal muscles, my prostate have a pleasurable ache. My testicles ache too, given that their reservoirs have been drained. My cock is tingling and somewhat numb.” You tell me that having a witness to these intense acts of self-love made you feel incredibly vulnerable; I held the space for you and this added to the intensity and excitement. The result was you produced milk at a volume you have never before achieved, through three separate emissions and five full on orgasms, each containing its own ejaculation.

We talk about how this experience has increased both of our awe and wonder of male sexuality, male sexual organs, and how they can transport us to worlds of intense pleasure where we can experience intense self-love and the beauty of creation. The milk of life has unlimited volume. We just have to be willing to harvest it.

As I leave I present you with my gift, and a smile of gratitude lights up your handsome face. You tell me this book will enhance the growing content of your blog. This makes me smile with joy to be somehow a part of it.

As I ride down the elevator, entirely spent despite never once touching myself, I think back to the last thing you said before our goodbye embrace. Musing poetically on the whole ejaculatory experience, you said:

“I wish it was possible to slowly cum, like in slow motion, to spurt like in slow motion and to experience every single phase explicitly and intensively: how my sperm wanders from my testicles via the vas deference towards my prostate; how my semen is released from the seminal vesicles into the urethra; how my prostate hardens and discharges its secrete into the base of my penis; how my cum gives me the feeling of congestion; and how – as a reflex to that – my muscular structures begin their involuntary rhythmic spasms; how my cum is shooting out of my penis, how ropes of my warm cream are pulsing out of me until most of the stored amount of my juices is spent and the contractions decline up to the point where my muscles return to relaxation. Yes, this is exactly what I love.”

Story cumplete.
In gratitude, Nandisa!

Sharing His Sanctum (2)

September 10, 2015

Guest post: This is a story by Tom (loyal reader) to pay homage to this blog!

So you go to work. You take your pooled precum and spread it over your cock and balls. They glisten in the bedroom light. You are incredibly hard, your mushroom head red and engorged even though the stimulation to this point has been brief.

You then place the back of your hand in front of your rigid member and push it out for my display and admiration.  The mirror also gives me a complimentary view which increases the heat I feel.


Down the underside like a thick tube is the swollen area surrounding your urethra, incredibly prominent in its engorgement. Your flared head is softly triangular from this angle, like an inverted heart, with a deep redness that contrasts to the lighter color of your shaft. I can see the curtain of your frenulum arising from your retracted foreskin and drawn up in a symmetric pleat to your ridged band. There is a subtle pulsing, and your balls are drawn up slightly on either side.

You then encircle your shaft and start a slow and steady stroke. Your cock is slippery from all the precum and so it moves through the tunnel with slick ease. When you reach your glans you bring your palm over the top of it and circle around it, which makes you writhe just a little bit. Then comes the downstroke to the base and onto your scrotum where you squeeze it and tug. Back up your shaft to your head. Circle. Back down to your balls. You repeat this steady all-encompassing stroke about 15 times.

At points I see you tense and then consciously take a deep breath as if to center yourself. “I must stay relaxed. I can feel subtle contractions in my prostate, especially when my hand passes my retracted foreskin.  There is building pressure. My balls have a subtle ache that is simply ravishing.”

Your slickness increases as your nectar continues to leak and gets spread with each pass. You start to moan again and your breath becomes shallower. “My mind…is screaming at me…to go faster. It’s like…uuhh…an almost primal urge…mmm…to spill my seed…I must…recruit my intention to stay…ahhh…slow and easy.”

You now move to your upper and middle shaft, over your retracted foreskin, and with several fingers lightly touch them in light, random taps and short strokes as if you are playing a clarinet. The music you make is more deep, sexy moans.

As if that isn’t enough you move up to the area just under your flared head, clearly incredibly sensitive, and your fingers dance using more of your leaking precum, which continues to well up and spill down your glans. “Fuck….I’m getting so close.”  Your balls are now drawn up into two smooth bumps at the base of your cock and your other hand starts to gently caress them.


“Tell me what you are experiencing inside,” I ask, knowing that keeping you talking will help prolong the ecstasy by bringing your focus away from your twitching cock.

Your response comes in a staccato of breathing and moans. “So warm and full…Intermittent contractions of my prostate…Twitching…So sweet…and intense…My sperm is mixed…and growing in volume…My tube is distended…So fucking full of cum…My piss muscles want to contract…Mustn’t…Mustn’t…Easy…Easy…Stay relaxed…Don’t want to lose this edge…Must…stop…now!”

You remove your hand, moving it to your lower shaft to push your cock upward. Time seems to suspend. Your eyes widen as you try to control your breath. Your cock, engorged, red, and glistening stands straight up, unmoving, which defies expectation.

You start to moan as clear fluid quickly turning white and milky starts to flow from your cock slit as if the tap to the fountain of life had been turned on. It spills in a cascade over your head and down your shaft, painting it in this creamy silky liquid. Several streams of it spread over your retracted scrotum and down over your perineum, while others pool at the base wetting your brown pubic hair. As your emission continues it flows at a steady rate and volume spilling over your glans. Nothing is ejected; there is nothing close to a spurt, just this peaceful flow of cum. As your accumulated fluid empties, it finally reaches an endpoint and abruptly stops, leaving one final pearl of white cream at the tip.


Your cock, balls, perineum, groin and pubic region are soaked in your milk. I can smell the tangy saltiness of it.

“What was that like?” I ask.

As you return to me from that bliss state you say “I could feel my milk start to move as my swollen glands secreted and pushed it forward. As my prostatic urethra distended with it, that was the point where I had to use every ounce of my being to prevent contraction of my BC muscle. That is the edge, and I was lost there for a moment. The room disappeared. All there was, was pressure and fullness and subtle contraction and then movement. That was when I stopped and it was like standing on a precipice of bliss. On one side calling me was my instinctual desire to complete. On the other was the choice of stopping and allowing my fluid to flow. Even though I have skill in exploring this place, you can never underestimate the incredible primal pull for completion. It’s a siren call that takes every ounce of willpower to resist. However, once I pulled back from it, and without the muscle contractions, I lost myself in that incredible flow that was full of steady, irresistible pleasure. It is like riding a wave that is silky smooth, warm, and wet.  And now, covered in my cum, my horniness and desire is still ripe and ready.”

“Taste,” I say. You tell me that eating your milk is not part of your normal practice; however, your current state of horniness overrides whatever reticence you have, and you scoop up a puddle on the flat of your belly and bring it to your mouth. Unlike your viscous precum, your semen is looser and wetter and quickly falls from your fingers to your open mouth.

“Mmmm, incredible,” you say, “It has that distinctive tart smell of cum. It’s thick and creamy. It has this amazing balance of salty and sweet.”  Unable to help yourself you scoop up another finger full of cream and rub it on your lips and suck it off your finger.

I say “Your technique is masterful. Your pleasure a gift to witness. I am having a hard time just watching, but if you can hold yourself off that primal urge to ejaculate, I can hold off my desire to get up out of this chair and clean you off with my mouth and tongue.”

With some significant pressure now relieved you take the remainder of your emission and spread it over your glistening cock, still hard and with that subtle pulsing now returned.

You also take the cum flowing over your balls and taint and, lifting your legs while shifting your buttocks forward, you rub it into your now exposed anus. You know from our conversations that this is a favorite place of mine to visit, one that as an active participant gets much attention from my fingers, mouth and tongue.

You play with your opening, lubing it with your fluid and gently enter yourself with your forefinger. That move gets a quick inhale of breath from you followed by a low moan. I know how much you enjoy rubbing your prostate from inside; we have talked about it and I have read your musings in your blog. As you move your finger in deeper you signal contact with your little walnut by taking a quick sip of breath while nodding.

You now tell me what you are doing, and I can only wish it was my finger doing what you describe: “My ass opening is very sensitive, especially right now. The stretching from my finger entering is causing involuntary muscle contractions as they pulse against this insertion. Knowing that my ass and finger are lubed up with my milk is incredibly exciting. Ahhhh…I find my prostate. It is walnut shaped and easily reached with my fingertip. I rest my finger on it and I can feel the pulsing of my heart. I start to tap it. Mmmm that’s good. Now I start a stroke over the surface, far to near, starting on the right and advancing in an arc over to the left. Then back I go, finally returning to that sweet tapping. My ass continues contracting around my finger. It’s involuntary. With my other hand I take up my shaft once again, so wet from all of this cum, making slow upward strokes from base to glans. I love an upward stroke like this. I love feeling my glands from the inside. I love knowing that this stimulation is signaling their return to work once again, making more milk.”

Prostate Exam

You stop talking and become lost in the sensations. What a sight! Your body glistens with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes are closed and your face twists in grimaces of clear pleasure. Your nipples are erect and pointed. You are finger-fucking yourself with your own cum while at the same time masturbating your cock in a slow steady upward stroke that simply looks amazing.

I marvel at the sight, using the mirror to gain a different perspective. It takes every ounce of willpower to stop from touching myself. I so want to join you, to undress and match you, but doing so will distract me from focusing on you. I want to bare witness to your masterful self-love and that means I must satisfy my own desires by witnessing your own.

Your eyes open to meet mine. We share a look of incredible heat. I can tell you are on a rise, that you must be filling up once again. You remove your finger and circle the puckered opening, scooping up a little more cum before diving back in. You now move your finger completely inside where you say you stroke and tap your nut a few times, then you withdraw completely, returning to circling your outer rim. You repeat this while trying to maintain control of your breathing.

“I love this because it is different from what I was doing before. Now I can let some of my muscles contract, and experience the waves of pleasure it brings. I can also feel a returning fullness as my glands do their work. My cock remains so sensitive, I think it’s time to refocus on it, although carefully still. From this position you can’t see it well. I know you love ass, but I know you love cock even more.”

You withdraw your finger one last time, and placing it on your opening, gently tap it repeatedly over your pucker while looking into my eyes intently. Using a towel to wipe up, you now shift yourself back into a more upright position where your prick returns into clear view.


I sigh at the sight, so delicious it looks in its turgid state, slick with creamy cum. You take your two fingers, and starting at the base, slowly squeeze your way from the bottom to the top of your shaft, milking your urethra of the accumulated precum that your Cowper’s has continued to release.

As you near the top you point your glans toward me so I see a maximal view of this clear liquid welling up and out of the opening. It’s an incredible amount, and you quickly stand up and walk over to me holding your glans upright to prevent spillage. I hold my breath in surprise and excitement as you slowly point your cock directly at me and repeat your previous milking motion.

This large bead of precum starts to extend itself off your pointed tip, taking flight. I move my finger about 4 inches below to its anticipated landing-place and watch it stretch, extend and slowly fall, fall toward me. When it finally lands I see a second drop emerge and follow the still tethered strand toward my finger. A third drop emerges, following the same path to join the other two in an expanding pool.

They are my gift, and I take my finger into my mouth as I look into your eyes. We both smile at the incredible closeness we both feel in this most exquisite of moments. You have just given me a part of yourself, this most precious of nectars, and I have tasted you.


“Do you want some more?”

Clearly you meant that as a rhetorical question.

“I’m very full again. I can feel the pressure. It feels incredible. All of that ass and prostate stimulation has made for an ache that only some release of pressure will relieve. You saw what I did earlier. I want to do that for you now. I want to spill some of my milk for you. I want it to flow into your outstretched hand while I keep myself at that point without crossing over. I want us both to consume it, tasting it together. I want to watch you as you savor and swallow it, which means that I then will be a part of you.”

“God, yes,” is what I can muster. I have never wanted anything or anyone more than I want you right now.

…to be continued!

Sharing His Sanctum (1)

September 5, 2015

Guest post: This is a story by Tom (loyal reader) to pay homage to this blog!

We had known each other for many months, introduced by mutual friends at one of those art gallery openings I sometimes found myself attending as part of my ongoing exploration of creative expression. From that first meeting I enjoyed the conversations we had together, the laughter we each generated in one another as we compared notes on the overly self-serious world of contemporary art.

As we got to know one another thorough, it was clear we felt an increasing attraction. How else to explain our flirtatious laughs as we dined, the longing looks and the playful touches that turned into deeper embraces when we parted.  I looked forward to each encounter, and felt a heat whenever we spoke or spent time together.

As we developed a deeper intimacy, and our talk turned to things sexual, you revealed that you were a well-practiced solo-sexual, someone who had developed an intense and highly skilled way of making love to your body that explored all aspects of male sexual function.

In particular, your focus was on maintaining a high degree of arousal for a prolonged period of time, dancing around the point of no return without spilling over into those involuntary and intense muscle contractions associated with ejaculation. In addition to edging, you desired your male produce, as you called it, and that your edging practice ensured a large volume of it. You also practiced a slow and relaxed approach to your edge, which allowed you to experience the pleasurable build up of pressure and subtle contractions as your glands, tubes, muscles and nerves prepared for expulsion.

In your highly evolved masturbation you had learned to separate the different phases of cumming, emission from ejaculation, with the result being able to play with the emission phase of it, where your sperm and seminal fluid had mixed and filled your prostatic urethra. Through very subtle stimulation at this high state of arousal you could allow this build up of your creamy milk to flow and bubble out of your cock without the contractions of a full, projectile spurt of your sperm.  In this state you don’t enter the inevitable refractory period, that post-ejaculation state of loss of arousal and sleepiness gifted to the human race through our evolutionary development, the purpose of which you are unable to fathom.  Instead, your intense arousal was maintained, and you could continue this sexual dance with yourself for hours if you so desired.

You also shared this fetish of yours, along with your accumulated knowledge and experience, in a blog called Peaks-n-Pulses that focuses on male sexuality and male sexual function. We would talk for hours about this, as it clearly carried intense interest for both of us. I started to leave our conversations with a sweet ache in my core after our goodbye embrace.  As our friendship deepened, I dared suggesting that one day I would love to witness you, nude and engorged, as you practiced your masterful techniques.

After a time you agreed. You said it was a little frightening, as it had been some time since you had shown yourself to someone in this way.  Although your blog contained extremely sexy pictures and clips of yourself, ones that I had used many times in my sexual fantasies, taking pictures and videos of yourself in various stages of arousal still meant you were solo. Doing this with a second participant was a threshold you had rarely crossed. However, the trust and affection we had developed for each other made you decide it was time to experiment with someone else. I was honored you chose me.

So arrangements were made. I was to come to your rooms in a week, where you would open yourself to me. We agreed that to enhance the experience you would abstain from any spilling of your seed for the week before our encounter so that you were primed. During the experience, you agreed to describe what you were feeling, telling me about the internal sensations created by your edge. We also agreed that for this first encounter I would sit and watch only. No matter how much I wanted to touch you, I agreed to keep my hands off.

On the appointed day I went to work and tried fruitlessly to focus on my to-do list as my mind kept drifting back to the anticipation of what we would experience later. I left work in a hurry and rushed home to shower and put on something comfortable. I gathered up a gift I had bought you – a rare illustrated book of the male sexual anatomy that I had found in a backstreet used bookstore-and headed out for your flat.

Now I am here, entering the elevator. A very attractive neighbor joins me for the ride up to your floor and my anticipatory excitement rises. Upon entering we embrace deeply, as we have done so often over the past year. I detect just a little bit of shyness in your touch, certainly no surprise under the circumstances, as we are journeying tonight to a deep level of vulnerability. On my neck I feel your warm breath, and against my chest there is your steady beating heart. I can also feel your growing hardness inside your pants against my thigh. Clearly you have followed your week-long period of abstinence.

We talk briefly about where to go. The lounge? The bedroom? Given that you have a full length mirror in your bedroom positioned so that we can both use it to view your performance, we quickly decide this room will be our sanctum for the night.

We lower some of the lights, fire up several candles, and put on some Moby, which is great music for sex, to set the ambiance. I pull up a comfortable chair as you settle on the bed. I then ask you, “What has this week been like, as you refrained from stimulating yourself, knowing this was going to happen?”

You answer how you could feel the energy and heat build throughout the week. You describe awakening at night to find your cock harder than normal, almost aching with desire, and began to notice some small stains on your sheets where precum had leaked during these dream-filled hours.

During the day you have had to catch yourself from almost unconsciously touching yourself when in public, and occasionally, if you found someone particularly attractive walking by you could feel the blood start to create semi-tumescence. By yesterday, you were exercising hard and for twice as long as normal to help contain some of the sexual steam that your anticipation was creating.

“And your glands?”

“So full and ready. You can’t believe how much I want this. How much I need this.”

“Then let us begin.”

So you stand up in front of me and remove your shirt, then your tented trousers. In your underwear, there is hardness straining against the blue fabric and I notice a small wet spot near the waistband where your head is nestled. You are leaking already.

Taking a long look into my eyes you ask, “How much do you want to see me, all of me?” I can only whisper my response, “So badly I am shaking.”

You slowly remove your underwear and stand for the first time nude before me.  I have seen your pictures on your blog, but they only provided a two-dimensional image of what is now before me. For a few moments I simply marvel at the beauty of the male form you represent. You have a dusting of hair around your nipples, which are deep brown pink and erect. Your solar plexus is hairless, but then starting at your navel you have the most irreverent treasure trail of brown hair that travels down to where it flares around your penis’ base.


Your cock stands out at a slightly upward angle in front of you, hard of course, with the foreskin pulled back on its own (I believe you told me your foreskin index was CI-3) revealing the most beautiful, glistening mushroom head that has a small, glistening pearl of clear serum at its tip. Your scrotum, enclosing your balls, is haired and slightly pulled up toward your perineum. As I watch, I can see a slight up and down pulsing of your rigid shaft, reflecting the coursing of blood through your beautiful body.

“My God, you are so sexy.” I tell you.

I can see that small pearl of serum grow at your opening and before it leaves your slit you take your finger and rub the glistening nectar around your flared head.  Your cock jumps at this first touch and you reflexively emit a low moan.

You then take hold of your cock at its base and present it to me, moving it around and shifting your position so I can get a thorough look.  You point your cock upward, and because your foreskin is pulled back I can see the ridged band and frenulum, so clearly delineated and stretched into a razor sharpness.

I can see the flare of your corona and the smooth glistening surface of your glans. The orbs of your balls are symmetrically oblong and smooth within your scrotum.  Your shaft has several engorged veins that run down its length.

You gently take hold of your retracted foreskin and moved it forward, slowly, until it covers your head, groaning with the pleasure caused by this combination of pressure, friction and movement.  As your foreskin advances more precum now gathers at your cock slit.


“How amazing that fluid is”, I say as I look up.

“I know. I call it pure nectar and salty honey.”

Slowly you pull your foreskin back again, and the gathered nectar spreads over your head as you take your other hand and spread it over and under the flared ridge and start to tease in a circular motion your ridged band, that sweet spot on the underside of your upper shaft.

“How does that feel?” I ask. Your simple answer is a low moan as you close your eyes and throw back your head.

Now you move toward the bed and lay yourself out, propped up on some pillows so we can look at each other. If I look to my right I can see your reflection in the mirror next to the bed, getting a slightly obliqued angular view of your body and genitals. You spread out your legs so I have this glorious view of your inner thighs, your perineum, your scrotum and your cock.


“Are you going to use any lube?” I ask.

You answer that your Cowper’s Glands are very prolific with the slightest provocation, producing such ample amounts of precum that there is simply no need. In addition, you tell me, that you plan on practicing emission tonight, where you bring yourself to the sweet edge of orgasm but then stop just short of it.

With your glands primed from the past week of abstinence and anticipation, you know they will flood your urethra with seminal milk, and it will spill in abundance. This you will also use as lubricant. “My own fluids will amply take care of me; there is simply nothing more warm and slick to take me repeatedly to my edge.”

You now take another bead of glistening precum which has made its way to the surface, and spread it over your head and the upper part of your shaft. Your cock is starting to have a wet shine. With your fingers placed on either side of your midshaft you take your retracted foreskin and start to slowly advance and retract it up and down over your glans. I notice your toes start to curl as your breathing deepens.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you say. After about the 15th round of this slow rhythmic movement, I can see your balls start to draw up and your breathing gets shorter. “I am so ready that I need to be careful. Even this little bit of stimulation has me on the edge already.” I can tell because with each pass of foreskin forward, more and more precum has emerged.

Since you have been pointing your cock straight up, a large pool of precum has built up and starts to drip down both sides of your cockhead in two steady streams. As the right side reaches the ridge it takes flight for a brief moment until it touches one of your fingers. Stopping this simple stroke, you take the contents of your Cowper’s and spread it over your very wet head, and down your shaft, occasionally taking one finger to circle your sweet spot, until the entire length of your penis is glistening.

“I feel so full. My balls and internal glands feel engorged and aching, yet we have hardly started.”

You let your cock fall onto your belly and you spread your legs farther. With one hand you start to massage your perineum and with the other you cup your balls, encircling them while giving them a slow squeeze, pulling them away from your body.

full erection

“This is a good technique when I am close, you see. My balls retract up, as if they want to return home in preparation for ejaculation. Pulling them away and stretching my scrotum helps me off the edge.” You then encircle your sack and squeeze, and your wrinkled scrotal skin smooths as your testicles push up against it. Placing your hand over your sack you now start the most delicious massage of your testicles, pulling them down and away, stretching your scrotum.

Your cock remains hard, and in the mirror I can see a shiny pool of precum collecting on your lower belly as you continue to leak. Clearly you know your produce. The idea of lube seems almost absurd given this bounty your glands have already created.

As you continue this massage you use your other to scoop up a small amount of your precum and you bring it to your face. Keeping your soaked finger several inches above your head you allow the liquid to slowly slide down and off you fingertip in a large viscous teardrop. I watch, mesmerized, as it slowly falls onto your outstretched tongue.

“Amazing,” I say. “How does it taste?”

“Slightly sweet and salty. The texture is what gets me, though, the smooth, sensual thickness of it. That’s why I call it salty honey.”

“Some more,” I ask?

You smile and this time take two fingers, dip them in and repeat this. There are two larger pearls now from each finger and you hungrily take them inside your mouth.

Now you say you need to relieve some pressure, your glands are so full. “If I don’t, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to hold off the point of no return. I didn’t abstain for a week for a ruined ejaculation.”

…to be continued!


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