Category: Cock shots

Over the last few years, I’ve used a tape measure and a glass of water to measure the length/girth and volume of my cock. The only remaining dimension to capture was mass, so FOR SCIENCE I decided to correct that omission.

Though I think I may have been a bit ambitious with my starting weight…

There are many appealing aspects to MMF threesomes (a couple of which I plan to write about in more detail next week…).

Among the most erotic visual (& tactile) elements of bringing another guy into the mix is having another cock to rub up against your own. Even when that doesn’t involve the third person sucking or stroking them together, there’s just something really hot about watching them pressed together, and feeling the heat of another man’s dick as he pushes it towards you.

It kinda looks like this…

You know how it goes. Sometimes the day passes slowly. Sometimes work is a grind. Sometimes your mind wanders.

Sometimes you get horny.

Sometimes you get so horny that your dick feels like it’s going to burst through your pants.

Sometimes the curtain of hair parts for long enough that I can see your face, a picture of concentration as you work my cock.

Sometimes your eyes flick up to stare into mine, and in those brief, shared moments we don’t need words to tell each other what we’re thinking or feeling.

Sometimes a title really does say it all.

I like watching her face while she sucks my cock. In those focused, unguarded moments, she’s an open book, and I can see each different emotion – each impulse – that flows through her and rises to the surface.

Anticipation. Determination. Concentration.

Playfulness. Arousal. Joy.

It occurred to me recently that I haven’t trimmed or shaved my bush for a long time now – longer than I’ve left it to grow untended for many years. I thought I’d try to get a photo of its current state for February Photo Fest, but predictably the full effect was somewhat lost on camera.

However, what did show up very clearly was the vein running down the side of my cock, and its smaller companions on the inside of my wrist. Proof that at this stage, the blood was definitely pumping…

Hotel rooms are far less fun without company, and the same is true – in spades – of hotel room mirrors. On Thursday night, I didn’t check in till gone 11pm, and was tired enough that the two mirrors either side of my lonely double bed didn’t feel like too much of a waste. Friday morning, on the other hand? Well, let’s just say that by Friday morning I’d woken up to the various possibilities I was missing out on…