Saturday, January 24, 2009

Jasper's First Kiss

Allow me to make the first observation, Jardonn. In reading your story Coming Harvest in book Liquid Delights, this passage seemed familiar:

Two dozen lips with a dozen tongues lovingly praised him. He no longer focused on one area of his skin, but every inch. Areas never before stimulated recognized pleasure. Erogenous zones became highly-sensitive triggers driving him to an ecstatic madness. All thoughts were made reality. He writhed and flexed, as faces were buried into his thick-haired arm pits, tongues raced up and down his back, chest, belly, legs and arms. Some sucked his toes and licked the arches of his feet, while others did the same to his fingers and hands. One hot, wet mouth was devoted to each of his tits. Tongues and lips kissed, licked and sucked, prompting his nuts to produce and release huge volumes of testosterone. It raged throughout his bloodstream. Took him to levels of masculine ecstasy indescribable, immeasurable. He expanded his chest, arched his back and thrust his sensitive tits deeper into their mouths, lips and tongues he could feel but not see. Double the pleasure, he could admire himself, every inch of his body, either in reflection of the tube or direct sight, while invisible others praised him. He sacrificed his tits to this incredible stimulation, fascinated by their shrinking diameter, impressed by their increasingly-elongated tips.

So, I'm reading this highly-charged text, obviously stimulated, and I remembered it as something near to what I'd done in my Black Pouched Crusader, from book The Crux of It. Behold:


Despite his stretching on the rack, Pete gave them a little performance. His arms strained, chest expanded and belly caved. His feet convulsed, toes curling forward, toes curling back, toes scraping one another. He arched his spine, lifted his head, watched Loretta's mouth working his left tit, watched Cassie molesting his right. He thrust forward his lower jaw. He growled for them. He groaned and grunted, deep-toned, like a caveman. He posed for them. He flexed his muscles, exhibited his manly strength in all its glory, and then he clenched his scrotum, forcing his fully-charged penis to rise and look for tight holes. It bounced twice, its pre-orgasmic ooze painting his fur trail with strands of silk. It continued bouncing of its own accord, his clenches of scrotum involuntary. His dancing cock obeyed the commands of two females and their merciless attack of his tits.

And so, I want to praise you, Jardonn, for expanding on my idea of what happens to a man bound and helpless when his tits are ruthlessly assaulted. He just can't help but get motivated. Good work, nephew!

Your Uncle Jasper McCutcheon

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I appreciate the nod, Jasper, but, uh, you may recall my Liquid Delights was originally published long before your Crux of It.

Still, it's good we've both experienced it and therefore can write about what a man feels when it happens.

Jardonn

Anonymous said...

Oh, perhaps you forgot I showed you a rough draft of my Black Pouched Crusader, way back when it was going to be a follow up to The Cave Man from my book, Go Ahead Woman Do Your Worst.

No matter. We both made our point in print... for not the first or last time, either. Gives me a hard thinking about it!

Jasper

Anonymous said...

Well, Jasper, your subtle implication that I stole from you doesn't escape me. It's not as though I can't think for myself. As for a hard, I figure at your age you're probably popping the Cialis in order to come up with erotic scenes worth writing.

Jardonn

Anonymous said...

Look here, you little turd, I was sporting hards before that misguided sperm hit home to create the likes of you. Nothing's changed with me, and don't think I don't notice how you wave your fat ass around when I'm in your presence. Lucky for you there's incest laws in place or I'd have nailed you long ago.

Jasper

Anonymous said...

I didn't say the Cialis helped you in the performance department, Jasper. You'd get lost, pal, like a shapeless plastic bag meandering aimlessly in the breeze. How pathetic would I have to be in order to solicit the likes of your limp, worthless noodle?

Jasper

Anonymous said...

Don't know, Jardonn. How much more pathetic could you be than you already are? And you're right. I would get lost in that bloated, used-up hole of yours. Anybody would, considering it's stretched three miles wide. When did you lose the muscle control? A thousand pokes past? I can think of a few choice words for you and your anatomy, but I'll keep it civil and sum it up with one: hussy.

Jasper

Anonymous said...

Cute, Jasper. That one really hurt. Ok, enough. Let's call a truce. This isn't at all what our blog is supposed to be, so let me simply say I like your writing. You're my favorite uncle, and I love you despite our sporadic conflicts.

Jardonn

Anonymous said...

Aw, shuckins, I love you too, Jardonn. A little healthy competition, that's all this is. Our tiff has inspired me to pop my pills and get back to writing. How about you?

Jasper

Anonymous said...

The only pills I need are Advil for my headache. But yes, Jasper, let's close this down and get back to what we do. Writing of men in lust and love... yours with the ladies, mine with men. Kissie, kissie, Jasper!

Jardonn

Anonymous said...

Saw your silliness here, and listened to your broadcast. Frank and Laura might stay until end of Feb., and if they do so will I. Hope you two can survive without strangling one another, although my interest fades quickly.

Jack