Photoshop has a lot to answer for

Instinct kicked in. I leaned forward and my tongue flicked across that full, meaty helmet. I heard a tiny moan behind me and I licked some more. My eyes scoured the thick shaft - the ridge beneath the helmet intrigued me and I let the tip of my tongue run beneath it. There was a shiver and I angled my target slightly, tapping my tongue against the slit in the tip. My thumbs gripped the firm flesh on either side of it, opening it slightly... and it tasted like pussy.

It’s probably quite normal (at least, I hope it is) but as I grow older – fuck, I’m almost thirty! – I find my tastes in erotica taking some very unexpected twists and turns. And I thank the Goddess of Technology for ensuring that the internet has kept pace with them, at the same time as I regret that I didn’t pay a lot more attention on the occasions that I may have dabbled in those same waters for real…

I guess I’m lucky – a lot of my fantasies have at least come partly true, and that adds a certain extra fission to my imaginings.

I did spend a wonderful night with a girl who modern webmasters would call a Shemale – and she was a real one, too; I know that the vast majority of those we find on the net these days are more Photoshop than flesh and bone, but Lisa was “the genuine article”; no trickery, no surgery and no smoke and mirrors.

I have watched as two straight guys suck on each other’s cocks – more than once, in fact. But the heat of the moment has always kept me from asking them how it felt, and afterwards, too often, they’re too… I don’t know; embarrassed? Shocked? Numbed?… to talk about what they felt, what they tasted, what they loved about it. I’d love to climb inside their minds for a moment to discover how they processed the experience, and discover if they’ve ever done it again?

And I have watched back a short piece of film in which the cock in my mouth suddenly explodes without warning, and the cum cascades from my lips down the shaft, while I suck and lick and try to call it back. (Sorry, I don’t have a copy.)

I can remember all these things, but what I’d really love would be to relive them. My first lesbian experience – the thrill and the nervousness and the anticipation. The first time I went down on a guy… again, the anticipatory knowledge that I was about to step into the unknown. First times fascinate me, as regular readers of this blog have probably already guessed. They are what inspire me to write… hell, there are days when they are what inspire me to get up in the morning. And they are certainly what inspire me to fire up the computer on sleepless nights or boring weekends, and type a few of my favorite phrases into the search box.

Because, who knows? One day I might find what I’m looking for. But I sort of hope I don’t….