Being Masterful

I lean my head against his so my right cheek is touching his left. It is an intimate moment. I whisper in his ear, “I'm going to remove the blindfold and untie you. Get on you knees, legs spread and hands behind your head.”

I untie him and without hesitation he slowly folds to his knees. I am not content he has spread his legs sufficiently so I tell him to spread more. He complies. Do I detect a little showing off? His cock is rigid and upright. His back is ramrod-straight and chest thrust out. His pose is one of defiance in defeat.

“I want your legs spread wide so you are aware of your exposed balls dangling in the breeze.”

I tell him this as I briefly kneel down so that I can reach his balls. I handle them roughly and apply a little downward pressure to stretch his ball sack. Nothing too severe, but it is enough to make him gasp. He knows I am judging him on his ability to take some punishment without complaint or chickening out. He is smart enough to know a lot of this is about psychology and that he is not going to get hurt. It follows, therefore, he has nothing to fear; no reason to resist. He can prove his masculine strength by simply coping with it all; going with the flow. He figures it's all a complicated game, one he doesn't fully understand yet, but if he plays along, he'll eventually catch on, meanwhile, all he has to do is stay in the game. That can't be too difficult, can it?

I stand up and slowly unfasten my jeans. He is watching intently as I unzip the fly. I drop them to my knees and wait a few seconds. His eyes are fixed on the bulge evident in my briefs. When I was young and slim I favoured briefs that were tailored like Speedo swimming trunks. Today the ones I was wearing were dark green with flashes of aqua blue that accentuated the pouch. I slip my hands into the sides and push them down. My erect cock bounces free. At six inches it's not excessively long but when erect it is thick, straight and flagpole vertical. More than one guy has commented approvingly on its appealing degree of structural symmetry before going down on it.

“Slide on,” is my only comment as I take a step forward. Keep the commands simple.

With his hands still clasped behind his head, he leans forward and tentatively takes the head in his mouth. It's easy to tell when it's a guy's first time: they try to take an inch or so, mouth wide open, without actually touching it. With my left hand I reach down and grip my shaft so as to peel back my foreskin. Gently, I ease in a little so he has almost the first three inches.

“Wrap your tongue around the shaft properly. I want to feel you tonguing me with enthusiasm,” I say curtly.

He responds immediately, taking me exactly at my word - and for a lad who has never tasted cock before, the result is impressive. The hesitation is gone. He works his tongue around the head unstintingly. This turned out to be the best cock suck I had experienced to date. He has a big powerful tongue which he slurps generously around the head and then the shaft. Not only does he suck and wipe his tongue along me, he manages to curl it around my shaft in the most sensuous way. He is applying a technique no doubt perfected to pleasure his girlfriend and adapting it to servicing me. Ricky was turning out to be a complex character: intelligent and quick to learn but under-educated; this made him lacking in self confidence in spite of this impressive physical attributes. He was tough and brave yet sensitive. Though super-straight, his body coursed with so many hormones he could easily be sexually excited beyond his ability to resist. Fit and still young, he was sex on legs and could not do anything about it.

I hump forward a few times to face fuck him deeper. He does not resist or try to pull away. My problem now is, if I let this go on much longer I am going to spurt. This is something I never let happen on the first training session. It's too much too soon and also it shows how much I am enjoying things. To preserve the idea that this is a trial of masculine strength and not an exercise in naked sexual gratification I need to always appear as in command of my trainee and in control of myself.

On a couple of occasions in the past - and I put this down to youthful exuberance - I unexpectedly started to cum. On these occasions I would excuse myself from the intimacy, discreetly shoot into a handkerchief as though I was wiping away the guy's saliva, and hope my involuntary convulsions were not obvious.

I withdraw from Ricky's mouth and reach down to get my handkerchief, wrapping it around my cock. He patiently awaits my next order while I clean myself up and check I am not about to cum. Generally I avoid shooting on to or into a straight guy until I am sure how he will react. The name of the game at this stage is to present everything as 'normal' straight displays of masculine cock prowess - an extension of the kind of exuberance that sometime occurs in the showers and locker room.

I went much further on this occasion than I intended to, or than I would normally do with a new guy. I think this was because I sensed a certain chemistry between us. Ricky was sort of challenging me to test him out. He wanted to be stretched emotionally, to be wrenched from his otherwise boring everyday life; to engage in adventure. I wasn't detecting any come back. Sometimes, when a guy comes down from the hormone-high and his normal brain kicks in again he thinks 'what the hell just happened?' Then there is a detectable change in attitude as with Jonathan (a short story for next time). I wasn't sensing any such problem with Ricky.

Next time: Ricky falls into the routine - allowing me to control him further and deeper before he finally decides to rebel. That would not bother me. There were plenty of young men out there desperate for a chance to make something of themselves. For example, the two Marks: young Mark, the slightly built biker, and blond long haired Mark who was so dumb and vacant that he made me hard just looking at him.