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(This is an updated version of this story originally posted many years ago)
By Dudley Jarvis-North
The ad on craigslist personals caught my eye. It was posted by a man I'll call Jack who had written a porn story and was wondering if it was any good. "Review my story," the headline said. This ad was unusual since most of the guys who post are looking for something less cerebral, so to speak. More common examples: "Who wants to suck me off?" "Take my four-day load," "8 inches -- cum and get it."
Jack said he wanted to publish his story in a gay magazine, although he was "basically" straight. He was calling his opus "My First Blowjob."
I had written porn myself for various sites and am a born critic, so I was eager to read his autobiographical tale about a skinny 18-year-old, sandy-haired blond of dubious sexuality attending high school in Philadelphia. While waiting for a bus at the terminal, the story began, the young man had been picked up by an older out-of-towner who said he needed directions to his motel, which happened to be near the young man's home.
The story went on to examine the building apprehension that gave way to throbbing excitement as our sexual neophyte sat in the guy's car and felt a hand snake across his thigh onto his crotch. Jack detailed the ambivalence felt by a kid unsure of his sexuality but fascinated by the possibilities and hoping to find sexual clarity in his first encounter. Being touched by another male in his arousing place and the thought of where that might lead were too much to resist. The young man took that fateful step and entered the guy's motel room.
While his tale was well-written and captured the excitement of a first encounter, it needed editing, and that's what I do for a living. It needed better transitions that would make one scene flow into another in a realistic way. "Tightening" and "massaging," as we journalists say, to make it crisper and more reader-worthy. I sent Jack a note in praise of his writing but also no BS criticism.
The next day I got a reply saying that he was impressed by my critique. Our messages went back and forth, and I told him I had porn magazines plus printouts of my own stories if he wanted to see how others approached the craft. Jack was receptive, so we agreed to meet the next evening for coffee at a nearby Starbucks.
I wanted to ask him to send a picture of his face, but thought better of it. He had mentioned in our correspondence that he lived with his girlfriend, although the sexual part of their relationship had ended long ago. But with his identifying as straight, discretion was likely high on his must list.
That left me fantasizing about his looks. Was he handsome and sexy as well as talented? I knew that he was slender because his craigslist ad had listed him as 5-10 and 150 pounds.
The next day we met at a Starbucks in Boston's South End. I knew it was he because he was the only male besides myself in the cafe. I saw immediately that he had broken craigslist Rules No. 1 and 2:Rule 1 being "Exaggerate your looks from average' to exceedingly handsome' and 2 being "Take at least 10 years off your age." Jack was not average looking. He could justifiably have said "very handsome" with his classic face, sparkling blue eyes and wavy light brown hair that dipped down onto his forehead. Add a perfectly straight nose and white teeth and no wonder I was pleasantly surprised.
Jack wore a stylish black suit, nothing like the boring business suits one would find at Brooks Brothers. This suit was iridescent, had narrow lapels, was perfectly tapered to his body and the slacks were pegged as they reached his ankles. It was the kind of hip suit one might buy at Urban Outfitters on Newbury Street. His white shirt had a narrow cylinder of ruffles down the button line, and the whole package was augmented by a red tie no more than a half-inch wide.
Jack's flashy attire made a lot more sense after he told me that he played bass in a jazz band and had just finished a late afternoon session. His work life demanded that he look cool.
We drank coffee and I repeated ways he could improve his story as I played the editor's role to the hilt. He seemed fascinated by the process and asked penetrating questions about the art of writing. `Gee, he's beautiful and smart, too,' I thought to myself.
His name was Roger Harrison -- can you get any more WASPy than that?
Despite being good-looking myself in a dark Southern European way, I couldn't help but wonder if he would be interested in me, given that I was about 15 years older. Then I flashed on his being seduced by an older man in his story.
After a half- hour more of chat,I invited him back to my place, just three blocks away. He had his coat on before I had time to put down my coffee.
On the way home, we passed his car and he asked if I minded if he brought his bass along as he feared it might get stolen if he left it in the trunk.
Jack talked about leaving Philly many years ago in order to attend Berklee College of Music. After graduation, he did temporary gigs before landing a spot as his current band's bass player. He talked about his frustration from being in a sexless relationship. Oh, he also admitted to being older than the 35 I had guessed he was. He was 42. I found his honesty refreshing, especially since I routinely lie about my age. No way did he look 42.
When we got to my place, I fetched the Mandates, Playguys and Drummers for him to check out and got both of us a beer as we chilled on the sofa with his long legs stretched out on the coffee table. He asked if I minded if he smoked. I searched for an ashtray.
As he lit up, I told him that he'd feel more comfortable without his cowboy boots. He nodded a yes, but before he could remove them himself, I knelt and pulled them off, steering his feet into my lap. He had worked up a sweat at the gig, so his socks were moist. I removed those, too.
He mentioned that his feet were tired. and I told him that I could fix that with a foot massage. He was delighted. So far, he had been totally compliant, which augured well for seducing him further.
I used my thumbs to press on his instep and gently pulled his toes outward until I heard them pop. His satisfied exhortations made me work harder to please him. I lifted one of his feet to my lips and licked his toes. More sounds of pleasure from him. His feet tasted like leather and light foot-funk.
After several minutes I moved up and unbuttoned his shirt. He had a small patch of light brown hair on his chest that got thicker as it crossed his belly button and moved into his pants. I leaned in and buried my face in his chest, then licked his tummy. After getting his treasure trail wet, I headed to his armpits.
I wonder if the planets had aligned for me as our date had gone perfectly so far and we both had erections. Jack had one more surprise as I tongued his armpit. He didn't use deodorant, the great killer of male sensuality. He smelled like a working bloke rather than some ad fouling the pages of Vanity Fair.
After coating both armpits with saliva, his cooing turned my mouth into overdrive. I turned my attention to his large nipples and licked them for several minutes, but when I gently bit down, he squirmed and made a loud "oh" sound.
His crotch bulging crotch gave me the cue to unbuckle him, unbutton his pants and see what I badly wanted to see. I pulled off his pants, and being an underwear fetishist, I wondered if he favored boxers or briefs. There came another surprise: The answer was neither. Jack wore a tiny black nylon posing strap that barely covered his genitals and looked right out of a Bob Meisner 1950s photo shoot.
I tossed his pants aside and planted my nose on his G-string. He had obviously had a grueling band session. It was moist.
I removed the slender garment and took in his package. He was about 6 inches long and on the girthy side, a perfect penis for his slim build. His balls looked above average in size as they rested on the leather sofa. I positioned myself closer.
I ran my finger up and down the circumcised head plucking at the shaft. He laughed when I said I was going to use his cock as a bass and my fingers were imitating his playing.
Jack lay back on the sofa, completely comfortable with being serviced. His first assertive act occurred when he pushed my head gently downward, eager for me to suck his dick. Much as I wanted to taste it, I decided to let things build more slowly and concentrated on his sandy-colored pubic hair, inhaling the male scent one can find nowhere else.
My tongue took in the fine hair above his dick -- WASP and Irish boys never seem to have scratchy hair down there --and after sniffing thoroughly, I moved to his balls, gripped them at the base and took both in my mouth. This excited him so that he lifted his legs up to give me easier access. I also got a glimpse of the delightful area between his balls and ass. His balls had sweat a lot while they were nestled in his G string, so they needed my attention.
When I saw his dick throb, I worried that he'd pop his load prematurely, so I resolved to pull off at the slightest sign of an ejaculation. I lightly kissed and nibbled on his helmet, waiting to see how he would react. I didn't have to wait long as he pushed my head onto his cock again.
While he wanted me to get down to serious cocksucking, I wanted to play more. I filled my mouth with beer and took his dick in my mouth while he purred at the sensation of cold beer on hot cock. I teased it, licking and nibbling on the shaft while enjoying his loud responses. Just when he thought I was going to suck him to completion, I took a detour.
I gripped his hips and rotated his body in a way that told him that I wanted to see his butt. He turned over on his side. The older guy in Jack's story had rimmed him, so perhaps he was wondering if I would go there. There was a tuft of sandy hair in the crease that cried for attention. I spread his cheeks and got my face into that tender, sacred and forbidden place. It was clean but moist. Butt scent is the only cologne I like, and it can't be found at Neiman Marcus, no matter how much you wish to pay.
After a few minutes of tasting his spicy ass, I turned him back over so that his crotch was in line with my mouth. Precum had seeped out and seemed to have a slight taste of nicotine along with other flavors. Or was I imagining that because his cigarette sat in the nearby ashtray.I reached for his G-string and wrapped it around the base of his balls, tying it tight.
This bold act made his cock even harder and stoked my desire to give this "straight" knight the best blowjob of his life. And that's what I did, using my best technique until his cock spasmed and filled my mouth. He wasn't kidding about not getting any sex from his girlfriend. There was a lot of his ejaculate in my mouth.
I licked him clean, not wanting his girlfriend to gather any evidence of our encounter, although this seemed unnecessary. She had no interest in Jack's dick and wouldn't be checking it out.
We watched a couple of innings of the Red Sox game on TV while he had another cigarette and we drank beers. Then he headed out the door with his edited story and his bass in tow.
He mentioned that he loved single-malt scotch if I might like him to visit again and gave me his business card. His band was called The Rebels with a Cause. A fabulous name, I thought.
Jack is going to "massage" his story -- journalese again -- and get back to me for some more "editing."
I'm thinking that my editing tool needs sharpening. Perhaps he'll be free tomorrow night after his gig at Paul's Mall jazz club. Playing bass is grueling. I can help him unwind.
Other stories I've posted on nifty:
Encounters: The Bass Player, The Pact (both Sept. 13,'17), James (Jan. 26, '18),
At the Underwear Rack, 2 parts, April 23 `19)
Aleksandr 2 parts (Aug. 20, '20), Shane the Barber (Aug. 11, 2021), Michigan Mitch (Aug. 27 2020), Dennis My Menace (Feb. 5 2023)
Urination: Drink It (2 parts, Sept. 24, '18), Lesson at Rock River (Nov. 6, '18)
Adult Youth: Aaron's Basement (Jan. 12, '18);
Authoritarian:Taken in the Woods (May 28, '18), Forced Reenactment (Dec. 14 '19); The Punishment that Wasn't (April 2, 2020)
Camping: Camping with Josh, 5 parts (Sept. 24, '18);
High School: William the Great, 3 parts, Jan, 16, '19)
Incest: How Did My Bro Know? (March 20 '20).Greek Reunion, 3 parts, (Aug. 20 '21)