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[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]It's now one in the morning; we're still wide awake and listening to the ongoing card game and learning some new cuss words. We're just lying in bed together when he rolled over to look at me and asked, "Are we doing it too much?"

His question made perfectly good sense! The thing that made this week so... bad was because all of us were doing it it several times a day, every cotton-picking day! How did I miss something so obvious? Oh, that's right - I missed it because I was too busy doing it and wondering why it wasn't the fun it usually was.

"I think you're right," I said; I could feel my whole mindset feeling better about it as his question kept bouncing around in my head and I was thinking about the time I heard a couple of grown-up men complaining about their women not wanting to do it and the men telling them that there was no such thing as too much dick.

Um, apparently, there was such a thing... and me and my horny friends had somehow found ourselves right in the middle of this. To me, once my mind had put all of this together - and I think his mind had as well - I had that great urge and excitement for us to do it again and the thrill of it all came rushing back for both of us. We went at each other again and with the familiar energy that had been missing all week long.

And, after we were done, we both fell asleep.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]His parents had sent us to his room around 8pm to get us out of their way so they could play [/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Pinochle and we both knew that we would have a whole lot of time to ourselves without them checking on us. We were looking forward to it... and not so much; we hadn't been in his room a good two minutes when he said, "We might as well just go ahead and do it..."

It was so routine; take turns sucking each other off then taking turns fucking each other. Clean up. Repeat. I was actually looking at my trusty Timex and saw it was just after midnight... while he was fucking me just the way he was doing it told me that he wasn't all that into it... but it had been that way since we got started and the mood was so funky that neither of us cared if we got caught doing it to each other. He finally shot his jizz in me, rolled off of me and lay down so I could fuck him and it was so much like being on autopilot and doing it just because it had to be done.

Making the whole thing worst was neither of us were sleepy, leaving us with only two options: Stay awake and be totally bored out of our minds... or keep doing it to each other until we finally wore each other out and went to sleep... and that just didn't happen.

"Why isn't this fun?" he had asked me after we cleaned up again.

"I don't know," I said as we lay next to each other and not even bothering to pull the sheet over us and even the thought of one of his parents coming into his room and seeing us both naked on the bed didn't instill the usual fear we all had about getting caught in myself or him.

"It's still good, ain't it?" he asked.

"Yeah, but, I dunno," I said and that I didn't know really bothered me. I had heard that some of the guys who were in our gang wasn't doing it any more; I had also overhead some grown-ups talking about boys doing it to boys and that they'd eventually get tired of it and just stop doing it - that usually sparked a heated debate and so much that they wouldn't be paying attention to the fact that one or two of us who were doing it to each other was listening to them.

Maybe that's what was wrong? Was I - and the more older of us - getting tired of it and it was time for us to stop doing it? Making it even more weird was the fact that I was thinking about this... as my friend was sucking my dick again and I was watching him do it. Yes, my dick was hard; yes, it felt good and it felt even better when he flipped himself around so I could suck his dick while he sucked mine. Yes, his hard prick felt good in my mouth and that clear stuff that was oozing out tasted good, too - but it always did... but the fact that I was actually thinking about all of this still made it weird; how could this feel so good but not feel so good all at the same time? We finished each other off, grabbed the water glasses (empty jelly jars) we both had and went to the bathroom to get water and we were both expecting his parents to hear us moving around and at least ask what we were doing up... and they were too much into their very heated card game to pay us any attention.

"We could probably go downstairs and do it right in front of them and they'd never notice," my friend said, which got me laughing and agreeing that he was probably right about that - Pinochle was some very serious stuff for grown-ups. [/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]By day three, I was too through with doing it with boys; it was becoming too much the same thing and I'd often find myself thinking about why this wasn't so much fun even while doing it with a guy - and it didn't help my situation any having a horny-assed little brother who was very much still head over heels about doing the nasty.

There were many, many times when I just wanted to say no and to say I didn't feel like it and the thing that didn't help matters any was that I couldn't say no and I was kinda lying when I'd say I didn't feel like it; I had realized that I hated being bored and with nothing to do more than getting some dick was bothering me. I was going through the motions without that seriously nasty thrill that we all admitted we were hooked on but, still, it was fun to do it with one of the guys - just not as much fun as it had been last week or any time before that.

I could be sucking a guy's dick and I'd feel... detached from it and on day five of this very weird week, I was sucking my fourth guy of the day and my heart just wasn't in it; he had shot his jizz in my mouth and when he finished, I laid down so he could suck me and even though my dick was all in the game, the rest of me wasn't so much and when I shot my jizz, it felt good... but not as good as before...

And I still couldn't figure out what was going on. It wasn't just me - a lot of the other guys were feeling the same way about it; yet, none of us gave any thought to not doing it. The fifth guy that day and I had just finished fucking each other for the second time and I was tired and not looking forward to the pre-arranged sleepover that weekend with this same guy... and he wasn't all that thrilled about it either.

"Maybe we should call it off?" he asked.

"Maybe we should," I agreed and we decided to let our peeps know that the sleepover was off... but we didn't do that and that Friday found us together at his home and in his bed doing the one thing neither of us really felt like doing.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]By the time I was 11, there were no less than 20 of us neighborhood boys running around and having sex with each other. The thrill of being so... nasty hadn't really worn off of me and, in later years, I'd attribute it to the fact that the overall thrill was kept going every time a new guy joined in on the fun...

But at one point that summer, sucking and fucking each other got "old," and "bothersome" because myself - and, really, none of us, could leave home without running into a guy or two (or more) who'd want to go somewhere so we could have sex. That first week of this feeling saw me doing it guys no less than three times a day and by the second day of this marathon, I was pretty bummed out about it all but given that, on this particular summer, there wasn't much to do - well, not until I went to summer camp in August - many of us would be roaming around either alone or in bunches trying to figure out what we could do to keep ourselves from being bored and getting into trouble...

And the answer was always, "Hey, do you wanna do it?" and I know my response lacked my usual enthusiasm and I'd shrug and say something like, "Might as well - ain't nothing else to do..." I'd go with either a single guy or some number of us would head for one of the many places we used to do our dirt and, again, by the second day, my eagerness to do it wasn't as off the charts as it previously had been.

It wouldn't be until I got much older that I'd get around to realizing that getting some dick had become so routine that it had taken a lot of the shine off of it. Get to a hideout; strip down; lots of sucking and fucking and depending on who I was with or what guys were in the mix. Sucking one guy while another guy was in my ass seemed like, in today's terms, too much like work and I'd find myself being annoyed over things that, before that week ever happened, never annoyed me.

What was going on here? How come this wasn't as much fun as it had been last week?[/SIZE][/FONT]

Hello papacock here and I'm hoping to find someone to enjoy some quality time with. I'd like someone younger but age or size really doesn't matter to me. I enjoy giving and getting oral and I will swallow if you're clean and disease free. I'd like a regular basis for sex and don't care about nationality or color. Just need some cock in my life

thank u

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]I was learning - and as a lot of guys were as well - that it's not all that easy to make the sex really good for someone else when a lot of your mental focus was on not being as excited to have sex and as you were supposed to be. Sure... I understood why a guy would tell me not to make him cum too fast since, being older, the chances of being one and done were greater now and "reloading the gun" might not happen in the time we had together. Or, with my control firmly in place, I'd find myself dealing with a somewhat irate guy who, from his position, is convince that I'm not as excited to have sex with him as I said I was.

I was learning that depending on who you were with, you couldn't win for losing and that going out of your way to contain my own excitement so that the sex could be more enjoyable for the other person, more often than not, made things not all that good for me. Oh, I'd be happy that they enjoyed themselves or, eh, sometimes they didn't because, again, as far as they could tell, I wasn't in the least bit excited to have this chance to have sex with them. There wasn't too much I thought was bad to have a woman tell me to be in control of myself... but to not be in control because women, more than men, well, it didn't take a whole lot for them to get it in their head that I wasn't excited to have sex with them when, in truth, I really was but I was expected to be in complete control of my excitement, too, so that the sex could last a good long time... or they'd gotten to that point where whatever I was doing to homegirl was, in her mind, taking too long.

I had to learn how to be very excited and even nervous... and get it under some kind of control and in a hurry but not so much under control that I might appear to be disinterested or, worse, I might not be able to cum at all which, was both a good and very bad thing at the same time with a lot of people I'd have sex with. It was - and still is - a bitch of a thing to really deal with and one of the side-effects of this very conflicting thing was - is - that I'd often be... indifferent and to the point where I'd sacrifice my own pleasure and excitement and while it felt good to be able to lay waste to someone because I'd contained my own excitement, eh, it didn't always feel that good; I mean, fuck - what was the point in any of this if you're supposed to be excited but not be all that excited at the same time?

I'd eventually come to the frame of mind that I just wasn't going to contain my excited nervousness and whatever happened, well, it just happened and if that meant that I'd have to suck more dick or eat more pussy to make the sex good and better for the other person, so be it and more so because having to go that extra mile was, at least for me, also very much exciting and sometimes even funny to have creamed a woman's pussy and see the look on her face or feel her body reacting when I'd go back down on her or to suck a guy off and instead of pulling away, I keep right on sucking him... and sometimes, I wasn't doing it for their benefit but for my own since I had to put my own excitement on the shelf so they could enjoy themselves.

Can't win for losing, very damned if you do and very damned if you don't. If I'm not excited and you're not aware that I am, well, there's probably something wrong with me because I'm not gonna hide how excitedly nervous I am and can be because it's not fun to do that and I don't want anyone to get the impression that I'm not hyped to have sex with them and if they don't like it, well, we can do it again... or not; your choice. Sex is supposed to fun and exciting and you're supposed to feel it and revel in it; otherwise, what's the point in doing it at all?[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Getting older didn't really change that with me a whole lot and while I had learned to get my excited nervousness under some semblance of control, it didn't stop me from feeling it before anything really got started. Some guys mistook my excited nervousness as being scared to do it which was [B]never[/B] the case and I'd have to reassure them that I wasn't scared at all... but I was very excited to have this chance to do it with another guy. That was about the time I was also learning that there were some guys who were... big time assholes and so much that I'd go from being excitedly nervous to feeling like I needed to jump up and either run away... or punch him in the face and it didn't make me happy to learn that there were guys who could just not make doing it the kind of fun that was expected and even promised.

It was kinda conflicting since one was supposed to be excited and even nervous to have sex but being this way could be a bad thing, too; it didn't feel all that good to be doing it with someone - even a girl - who didn't show any excitement and/or nervousness but I'd learn that if they felt that way, they were doing everything they could not to show it in any way and that's about the time I learned some stuff about how we can use someone else's excitement to enhance our own excitement. It was like you had to be more in control... but not be so much in control.

I used to get really pissed off to close my mouth around a guy's dick and before I could even get started sucking him, I'd find myself with a mouthful of cum because he was so excited about things. Or I'd be lying there with my ass all ready to take his dick, I'd feel it pressing against my hole and I'm waiting for that painful but very nice feeling of it going in but what I'd feel was his dick pumping and that warm, wet, and sticky feeling of his cum not going in me. It took me a while to learn not to get so pissed off about it and to really understand that this was something that just happened even though a lot of people - and especially girls - just hated for this to happen and many weren't all that understanding about it and even I didn't like someone fussing at me over something I kinda/sorta didn't really have any control over and because sex was just so exciting.

I know that myself and a lot of guys wound up learning that trick of thinking of something... disgusting or anything that would distract us and take away from being excited about having sex so that "cumming too fast" wouldn't happen but the thing we didn't really make a connection with was that while we could try to tone it down as much as we could in our minds, um, our bodies would, more often than not, have other ideas and while a lot of guys were really good at controlling themselves, some guys just weren't all that good or they weren't consistently good at it.

I just learned not to be pissed off if a guy "came too fast" and I'd realize that there was no point to be pissed off since, um, didn't he do what I wanted him to do in the first place? He did but, uh, it would have been nicer if he had gotten his dick in my ass before he came - just saying. I also had to learn not to be embarrassed when I was the guy who lost his load before it was ready to be received and to deal with the conflicting things that said, again, that on the one hand, I should and need to be excited about having sex but, on the other, not to be all that excited and then dealing with the downside of that and having someone fussing at me because I didn't seem or appear to be excited to have sex with them, let alone enjoy whatever we were doing.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't. That crazy-assed notion that you're supposed to be excited and can even be nervous but you're not really supposed to feel like that or you could get "cussed out" for taking way too long to cum and, yeah, even I would get pissed because a guy was taking way too long to cum in my ass and now him fucking me was getting to be way to uncomfortable which, of course, would just wipe out any feelings of being excited and now I'm lying under him and wondering why I thought having him fuck me was such a great idea to begin with. Or finding myself sucking a dick for a very long time and wearing myself out trying to get him to cum and because he had such great control - or he had jerked off before we got together - that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon or, sometimes, at all.[/SIZE][/FONT]