By LeNair Xavier
Thotyssey presents a bi-monthly column by LeNair Xavier, a writer/poet who has worked in many levels of the sex industry, and has a lot to say about the social politics of sex, porn and sexual etiquette.
I have made no secret of how much of a sex geek I am. Trust me, I enjoy pics and videos of cum shooting out of a cock. I’m amazed and sexually aroused by knowing a cis male body can do that, and seeing it only adds to the amazement and arousal. But if I can’t see it, while the typical male is more visually stimulated, I am actually more amazed and aroused by feeling it.
So feeling his cock throb inside me turns me on massively. I will admit that I am visually stimulated by how if we play safe, the cock throbbing is accompanied by the sight of the semen in the condom. And knowing my body make his do that strokes my sexual ego.
Well, I met this one guy met years ago. We had such amazing sexual chemistry. To the point that I once considered dating him. He turned me down however because I was doing porn at the time, and he said that he wouldn’t date a sex worker. I was annoyed at first, because he had a sex worker past. But over time understood it. Way more so after my retirement from studio-based porn. However, even with my annoyance, I still rarely turned down an invitation from him to fuck. A refusal to decline that went on for years.
After I retired from porn, you would think with such a bond that I would again suggest that we start dating. I did not. This time, it was my own rules that prevented it. Because he did drugs. And my rule is that I won’t date a drug user. A tryst maybe, but never a date.
He used poppers and smoked weed around me, but he never used hard drugs with me. Seeing the paraphernalia in his apartment is how I knew. Of course, even knowing that about him, I did not give up that great sex. For a while, there was just one thing missing.
Many nights we flip-fucked, but even more nights, I bottomed for him. He was a couple of years older than me, but his body was amazing. And along with that amazing body, he shot these massive loads of cum. And when I say “shot,” I mean shot.
For we often ended with him topping me in missionary. And when he came, he would pull out and shot far enough to often land on my chest. There were even a few times that my loving to look at a dick about to ejaculate like I’m looking down a barrel of a gun cost me. Especially with him. Because those were the times his cum would hit me right in the eye. But the sex geek and cum pig that I am just blinked from the sting until I showered later.
Sexy as those cumshots seem to be, they were part of the aforementioned thing missing. He shot those loads on me. Not in me like I would have preferred. This continued even after we knew we shared the same HIV status.
While I often advise that one should not be on the hunt at a bar, but more so just be available, I confess that those nights of him pulling out did have me going against my own advice. For the night after, I often went out to a hook-up bar like The Cock on the hunt for a top. I was wondering why I was doing this. Was I a sex addict? The sex I had with this guy was amazing. So why am I in a gay bar looking to be fucked again when I know whoever I find probably will be nowhere nearly as good?
This question did not get answered until one of our trysts, he finally stopped pulling out. He was thrusting away at me and I could feel his cock throbbing as he was about to cum. Then he asked me, “Can I cum in you?”
I whispered in response, “Yes! Always, Baby!”
Then he let out this loud moan. Accompanied by the throbs of his cock orgasming and shooting cum in a way that felt like a heart was beating inside my ass. Needless to say, that was the most intense sex we ever had at that point. And the beginning of more.
Case in point, the next night, I found myself having no desire to step out and go on the hunt like I did after past trysts with him. That’s when I realized that his pull-outs were the problem. I was not a sex addict. It was that his pulling out left me feeling only 85 – 90% full-filled (pun intended) by our hook-ups. So I needed someone that next night who was going to give me the remaining 10-15% to stroke my sexual ego. Make me feel my body received all of what it offered to make his body do. And that includes making him ejaculate, and keeping it inside of me.
Of course, the stress of this could have been avoided if I had the sex educator intellect back then to follow my own advice and COMMUNICATE with him. If I asked him before why he didn’t cum while inside me, I could have saved myself the stress. Then again, perhaps it needed to happen this way. Otherwise, I might not have known of how pulling out leaves a void. Thereby making me able to pass on the knowledge of my experience to you.
LeNair Xavier can be found frequently at the Cock, and at various other exhibitionist-friendly venues. He can be followed on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram. He guest blogs occasionally for Kiroo.com.
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