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Hands-on Experience
🕑 Added 2020-07-15 13:55:02 +0000 UTCBy CATHEXIS
In the solitary comfort of his bedroom Andreas pushed his pajama pants down to his ankles, lit only by the glow of his laptop. The man on the screen was bound to a chair, his erection teased to an angry red, his back arching as he pleaded. Another man’s hand was fisted just above his cock, fingers wet with lube and curled to form a tight channel. The bound man desperately thrust his hips up, managing to only fuck the tip of his cock in and out a few times before he collapsed back onto the chair, his sides heaving.
Andreas felt his breath quicken while he stroked himself. It was the third time he’d watched this particular video.
Handjobs were standard on most amateur porn sites and not high on Andreas’ usual list of search terms, but the thumbnail for this video had caught his eye and the account name made him chuckle. “Professor Penis Pleaser” had quite the oeuvre; the channel featured dozens of men filmed from the neck down, stroked and edged to orgasm by the same pair of deft hands.
Andreas had never given edging much thought where his own sexual desire was concerned, but found himself enthralled. With each video he watched, arousal and fascination stirred within him. He envisioned himself sitting across from a restrained, trembling body, caressing hot skin and hard muscle, feeling every helpless twitch and shudder as he pleasured a slick, rigid cock with his hands.
It was a confluence of so many things he’d denied himself for years: being allowed to explore another man’s body uninhibited and unashamed, to run greedy eyes and hands over his privates and hear his cries and animal moans of pleasure. For two nights in a row now, Andreas had wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking himself roughly as he watched the Professor coax body after willing body to writhing orgasm. And when he came, Andreas imagined that the semen running over his fingers belonged to someone else.
Every video ended with an email address and the same text: “If you are in the 114 area code, email me.”
He’d thought about it for twenty-four hours. Eventually, he’d sent a message—if only to end his own curiosity—and received a reply within a matter of hours. After a week of emails, Andreas had agreed to meet.
***
Andreas slowed as he approached the house. It looked like every other residence on the block, one in a line of old brick Victorians on a street too narrow to park. He glanced at the address on his phone one last time, his palms faintly damp, and climbed the steps to knock.
“Professor Penis Pleaser” turned out to be a plain-faced man in his mid-forties, altogether unremarkable in jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was close-cropped, and behind wire-rimmed glasses his eyes were a pale blue. Andreas wasn’t sure what sort of reception he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this.
“Hi,” the man said. He stood back from the door with a genial smile. “You must be Andreas.”
“Yeah, nice to meet you.” Andreas smiled awkwardly as he crossed the threshold. His eyes skipped down to land on long fingers that were jarringly familiar, and the words penis pleaser ping-ponged through his brain. He stifled the urge to laugh. “Um. What should I call you?” Andreas wasn’t certain he’d be able to maintain an erection if he had to say the words “Professor Penis Pleaser” out loud, now that he’d put a face to the name.
The man’s smile never faltered. “You should call me ‘Sir.’”
“Oh.” Andreas blinked. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
The man led Andreas to the living room, and Andreas froze. There was a wooden chair and an upholstered armchair arranged to face each other in the middle of the floor. A small cart off to one side held an array of telling objects: lube, a roll of black electrical tape, a pack of baby wipes. A camera tripod was positioned in front of the wooden chair and the reality of what he was about to do hit Andreas with a thrill of nausea. He wavered until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Relax. We can stop at any time.” The man smiled and moved past him to pick up his camera. He glanced back at Andreas. “What’s your safeword?”
Andreas blinked. “Safeword?”
“Mm. We can use ‘cobalt.’ The street I live on. Easy enough?”
Andreas nodded. “Sure.”
“Go ahead and strip.”
The man turned away to fix the camera in place. Andreas unbuttoned his shirt, dropped his jeans and boxers to the floor, and stepped out of his shoes. He was struck by the weirdness of standing naked in a stranger’s living room and fought the urge to cover himself with his hands. He cleared his throat nervously.
The man turned back and looked him over with a smirk. “Very nice,” he said, and nodded to the wooden chair. “Go ahead and have a seat. When was your last orgasm?”
Andreas felt a flush crawl up his neck. “Yesterday morning,” he said as he perched awkwardly on the edge of the chair. He put his hands on his knees and waited.
“Good, good.” The man lowered the camera and looked through the viewfinder. “I’m not gonna show your face. It’s kinda nice that you don’t have any tattoos for me to blur out.”
Andreas chuckled and fidgeted. He’d done a lot in recent years to distance himself from his past. He very much did not want to think about the possibility of anyone managing to identify him from this video.
The man looked up at him curiously. “Have you ever edged before?”
“No,” Andreas said. “But I want to learn how.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “You want to learn how to be edged? Your job is easy.”
“No.” Andreas shook his head. “I mean, I want to learn how to edge someone. I figured I should learn from the best.”
The man smiled. “I see. You figured the best way to learn is to have it done to you?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“That explains why you’re not hard yet. Most guys are erect before they even knock on my door. The idea of what’s going to happen to them is enough.”
Andreas just nodded. So far, he was feeling more awkward than anticipatory, like applying for a bank loan, but with his dick out.
“How do you feel about anal?”
“It’s, um, it’s good. I like it.” Andreas felt his ears heat. They’d discussed his limits and preferences already via email, but being asked again face-to-face was simultaneously reassuring and embarrassing. He reminded himself that he was already buck-naked in front of a total stranger and couldn’t get much more exposed. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience, but I’m okay with...that. With anal.”
The man’s mouth curled in a lopsided smile. “Bisexual? Closeted? Late-bloomer?”
“All of the above?” Andreas’ laughed wryly.
“Ah.” The man pulled the little cart forward, clicked open the lube and poured a generous amount into a white saucer. From a box below, he produced a small butt plug. “I think we’ll use this,” he said, holding it up for Andreas to see. It was black and curved with a bulbous tip. “How are you with prostate massage?”
“Can’t say I’ve mastered it, but I’m game,” Andreas said. Every time he’d gotten fingers or a toy inside and managed to brush against his prostate, it had felt more intense and clinical than arousing. Trying to chase the sensation and assimilate it into the sexual pleasure he’d been accustomed to for most of his life required more concentration and coordination than he could usually muster when he jerked off. Maybe with a pair of helping hands it would be easier.
“Normally, with shy guys like you,” the man said, “I’d use a blindfold. Let you really lose yourself. But maybe you want to watch what’s happening to you, hm? For research.”
Andreas swallowed. “Yes, um. Research.”
The man rose to lift a large, ornate mirror off the adjacent wall and leaned it against the cart.
“Can you see yourself okay?”
Andreas stared at his own reflection. The angle of the mirror cut him off at the chin, and suddenly his body looked like it belonged to just another anonymous man from one of the Professor’s videos. The awkwardness of the situation began to recede. “Yeah,” he said, feeling the muscles in his thighs relax. “I can see everything.”
“Nipple play?”
“As long as it doesn’t hurt.”
The man looked at where Andreas' thumb was absently rubbing his thigh next to his soft penis. “I usually tie men up for this…”
“Yeah,” Andreas nodded. “That’s fine.”
“Lean back and spread your legs a little more.” The man reached for the electrical tape and waited for Andreas to make himself comfortable before he secured his ankles and wrists to the chair.
“Okay,” the man said, retrieving a length of black rubber medical tube from the cart. “What do you think about to get off?”
Andreas chuckled, watching the rise and fall of his own belly in the mirror. “I guess it’s no surprise that edging someone has been on my mind a lot lately.”
The man grinned. “What about it gets you off?”
Andreas felt his cock stir. “In your videos...You can’t see their faces but you can still see them begging. How desperate they are. How good it feels when they can’t do anything but take what you give them.” He shifted as his cock started to lift and thicken against his thigh. “Like coming all over your hand is the only thing that matters.”
The man’s smile grew wider. “Is there someone specific you’ve been thinking about?”
Andreas started to shake his head and then paused. “Well, there’s been this one guy…”
“Yeah?”
Andreas smiled slightly. “He’s a regular at my cafe. So damn pretty. Blue eyes, dark hair, kind of aloof. He flirts with the baristas sometimes, but I don’t think he really means it. Wouldn’t mind seeing him a little less put together.”
“Bet you wouldn’t mind messing him up a little,” the man said. “Or helping him make a mess of himself.”
God. Just the thought of it gave Andreas a hot little kick in his stomach. Sweat had started to prickle at the back of his neck and behind his knees. He glanced at the mirror again, watching the flush rising on his chest, his cock now fully erect between his thighs. Mr. Americano-with-cream would be gorgeous like this. Andreas would want to pleasure every bare inch of him.
“Yeah, there you go,” the man said, stroking the back of his finger up the underside of Andreas’ erection, teasing a little at the frenulum. “I knew we’d get you there.” He tightened the rubber tube around the base of Andreas’ dick, right behind his balls.
“Feels kinda tight,” Andreas said.
“It’s so you stay hard after you come,” the man said. “You remember your safeword?”
“Cobalt,” Andreas replied.
“Very good,” the man said. He dipped the fingers of one hand into the saucer of lubricant and picked up the camera remote with the other. “Shall we begin?”
The first slick touch to his cock made Andreas jolt. His toes curled into the carpet as the man stroked him gently.
“You have a nice cock,” the man said. “It’s a nice size, has a good curve.”
“Thank you,” Andreas breathed, then remembered the camera and added, “Sir.”
“I like your body too. You’re soft in all the right places.” The man teased Andreas’ nipple with his left hand until it pebbled under his touch. With his right, he closed his fingers around Andreas’ cock in a light grip, moving just enough to make Andreas want to chase the feeling.
Andreas tried not to squirm. His gaze flickered over the image his body made in the mirror, over the hand teasing his cock with slow strokes. He opened his legs wider and his pulse felt heavy in his chest.
“You ready for your butt plug?” the man asked, reaching for more lube and coating the black rubber.
“Yes, Sir.”
The man stroked his cock while carefully working the lubricated plug into his ass. Andreas canted his hips forward as best he could, and the plug was small enough that it barely took a minute to insert. He clenched experimentally around the solid weight of it and the sensation made his cock throb.
“Good?”
“Yes, sir.”
With that, the man began touching Andreas in earnest. He curled his fingers into a slick, snug ring that descended on Andreas’ cock again and again with soft, deliberate strokes.
Andreas watched in the mirror, doing his best to observe the man’s timing as well as his body’s own responses. The more he imagined the body in the mirror belonging to a stranger, however, the harder it became to distance himself from the pleasure tightening in his gut. Andreas’ eyes fluttered shut as he got distracted by the feel of the man’s hand working over the sensitive head of his cock. The instinctive urge to thrust wound through him, and his mouth fell open as he started to pant, his body straining forward. He was so close, so—
Andreas’ eyes shot open with a gasp as the man abruptly released his cock. He watched Andreas carefully, stroking his balls with just the tips of his fingers.
“You looked like you were about to come,” the man observed.
“I was,” Andreas huffed.
“Tell me if you get close,” the man said. “I control when you orgasm.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andreas shifted back from the edge of his seat and this time the man encircled his cock with just his thumb and forefinger, barely touching. The pressure was light, but each glancing stroke over the crown made Andreas shiver. Again, he concentrated on the mirror until he couldn’t.
“I’m gonna come,” Andreas said, his thighs tensed and his fingers gripping the chair.
The man backed off, retreated to gently rub and knead his balls. After a few shivering seconds, he reached down and tapped the base of the butt plug—softly at first, then with increasing pressure.
Andreas’ breath hitched. Each strike was a jolt of sensation against his prostate that made him want to swear. He struggled against his bonds, gasping.
“Are you going to come like that?”
“No,” Andreas said, his head bowed and legs jerking involuntarily. All his nerve endings felt like they were ringing. Even without direct stimulation, the tip of his cock felt sensitive. “N-not yet.”
The man continued tapping the butt plug and reached out to touch Andreas’ cock again. Only a few short strokes and Andreas’ head shot up.
“I’m gonna come,” he gasped, too late. The pressure around his cock disappeared and Andreas helplessly dribbled cum onto his stomach, thighs shaking as he lost control. The man steadily tapped the plug throughout his orgasm, and once the initial wave of release had passed, Andreas writhed in a futile attempt to get away.
The tapping ceased and Andreas’ breath left him in a whoosh. He was still hard. His orgasm hadn’t been followed by the usual feelings of lethargy and syrupy relief. His cock still stood at attention, throbbing and urgent, and when the man reached out to lightly rub the underside with one finger, Andreas’ voice left him in a gasp.
“Too much...it’s too much…” His breath seethed through his teeth as he shifted restlessly, trying to move his dick out of range.
The man hushed him but left his cock alone for the moment. “You’re doing good, but I think you’ve still got more to give,” he said as he resumed stroking Andreas’ taut testicles. The light touch produced a shivery ache beneath his skin, but Andreas was just glad for the lack of stimulation to his sensitive penis and prostate.
“Now think about doing this to that guy you like,” the man said. “Imagine making him feel what you’re feeling right now.
Andreas moaned. Shit. He wasn’t exactly certain Americano-with-cream would thank him for the privilege, but his eyes caught on the tableau reflected in the mirror, raking over every filthy detail—his heaving stomach, the sheen of sweat on his skin, his flushed, swollen prick and semen pooling in his pubic hair—and he shuddered.
The man trailed his fingers up the length of Andreas’ cock before clasping it again in a gentle grip. Andreas’ entire body went rigid and he whimpered, but the man just smiled and massaged his penis with calm efficiency, adding a little twist to the end of each stroke to torture the head. He used his clean hand to rub Andreas’ belly and chest. “Hold off,” he said. “Don’t come.”
Andreas shook with the effort. The gentle caresses over his torso only served to heighten the sharp, terrible pleasure in his cock and balls.
“Don’t come,” the man warned.
Andreas came. His orgasm welled out of him, semen running down his cock in slow pulses, dripping from his balls onto the chair. He panted and willed his muscles to unclench. “S-sorry,” he said.
The man backed off to let him breathe. “Do you think that gorgeous guy of yours is as big a slut as you?”
Andreas laughed weakly. “God, I hope so. That’d be nice.”
The man dipped his fingers into the lube once more and put his hands on Andreas again. He focused his attentions on the base of Andreas’ cock, avoiding touching the tip, coaxing a different kind of urgency to course through Andreas’ groin. With his other hand he began tapping the plug again.
“Oh, fuck,” Andreas swore.
“‘Fuck, sir.’”
“Fuck, sir. Fuck. I can’t…”
“You’re doing great.” The man took in Andreas jittering knees and hitching breaths. “You gonna come again?”
Andreas hissed. “Yes, sir.”
“So come.”
The man took his hand away and just tapped on the butt plug. Andreas came with a sob, ejaculate burbling up and over his cock. The man rubbed it into Andreas’ skin, sticky and wet, while he came down from his orgasm.
The man sat back, eyeing him. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. “It’s been half an hour...how’re you doing?”
Andreas breathed hard through his nose, concentrating on forcing the breath in and out of his lungs. He gave a shaky thumbs up with one tethered hand.
“One more, then I’ll untie you.”
“Please,” Andreas blew out a breath. “Make it quick, sir.”
The man’s eyes glinted. He wrapped his thumb and forefinger lightly around Andreas’ dick.
“You do it,” the man said. “Fuck my fist.”
Andreas slumped in his chair. “I can’t,” he said, feeling nearly queasy after his last orgasm, the muscles in his abdomen cramping with fatigue.
“Then it won’t be over.”
Andreas moaned and trembled with effort. He fixed his gaze on the man’s hand, focused on sliding his cock through his curled fingers and tried not to feel the shuddering sensitivity of his own skin. He managed to achieve a hitching rhythm. Every time he returned to his seat the plug jostled in his ass, hitting his prostate. The muscles in his ass and thighs burned.
“Feel good?” the man asked.
Andreas just groaned and tried to work his hips a little harder, tried to catch the sensitive head of his cock against the man’s fingers in just the right way. Good wasn’t the word for it, for any of this. He felt too much and not enough all at once, caught suspended on the precipice and yet unable to fall. He just needed to get in one good deep breath, or clench around the plug a little harder, or fuck his cock a little deeper, and God, he was so hard but coming seemed so far out of reach---
Suddenly, the slick channel of the man’s fist disappeared. Andreas gave a cry of dismay as he lurched forward only to fuck empty air.
“I asked you a question,” the man said.
Andreas could have wept with frustration. “Yes, it feels good,” he panted. “Sir.”
“Good.” The man curled his fingers around Andreas’ cock once more. “Keep going.”
Andreas’ hips twitched up almost of their own accord. He’d hardly managed more than a few shallow thrusts before he felt the man untying the makeshift cock ring. The last of Andreas’ thwarted arousal crystallized into a sharp, wrenching orgasm as he arched off the chair. He swore as he came suddenly, ropes of semen shooting up his chest and stomach.
“That’s it, ride it out,” the man said. He fondled Andreas’ cock with measured strokes once his hips stilled. “Beautiful. So hot.”
Andreas whimpered through gritted teeth, overstimulated and spent. His head lolled towards the mirror, watching his own muscles spasm and shudder involuntarily as he endured this final gentle abuse.
Finally, the man left Andreas’ dick alone, reaching down instead to carefully remove the plug. He set it aside and grabbed a baby wipe from the cart to clean his hands.
Sagging against the hard back of the chair, Andreas breathed deeply, unable to move or speak. Every part of him, including his brain, felt liquefied.
“So?” the man said, looking amused. “You think you got it?”
Andread nodded. “More or less.”
The man smirked up at him as he knelt to cut Andreas’ bonds with a pair of safety scissors. “The video will be up next week,” he said. “You did great. You’d better ask that gorgeous guy out so you have someone to practice on.”
Andreas chuckled once as he rose on wobbly legs. “I don’t know that I’m his type.” He took a few baby wipes for himself.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the man said as he began tidying his workspace. “You’ve got this hot-for-teacher thing going on. I think if you worked that angle he’d be eating out of the palm of your hand.”
Andreas laughed again as he reached for his discarded clothes. “Please,” he said, “Lord knows I don't need any more masturbation material.”
The man returned the mirror to its place on the wall before turning back to him with a considering eye. “Look,” he said. “I don’t normally keep in contact with the guys I film. But if you do end up asking this guy out...just email me, okay? I’d like to think I contributed to your success.”
Andreas just shook his head, bemused. “You’ll be waiting awhile, I’m afraid.”
The man saw him to the door with a smirk. “Oh,” he said. “I’m very patient.”
Andreas hesitated at the threshold. “So, should I thank you or something?”
The man genuinely smiled. “Most guys do. But normally when they’re still tied to my chair.”
Andreas smirked and reached out his hand. The man took it. “Thank you,” Andreas said with sincerity. “I feel...I think I know what I want now.”
Feeling marginally more in control of his limbs, Andreas sauntered down the front steps, his mind turned inward. He’d upended his old life just for the chance to simply acknowledge the beauty of another man without shame or fear of repercussion. Andreas was beginning to think perhaps it was time to do more than admire from a distance.
He could take his time, he decided. He knew a bit about patience, too, after all.
