I have to admit that I'm very, very unlikely to meet up with anyone looking just to J/O. Most guys that say that fall in to one of two categories: 1) they are honestly looking just for a buddy to jack off to porn with, someone they'll only sneak looks at and make very little, if any, contact with; 2) they start out just jacking off but then quickly shift to oral and then right on down to fucking. I'm not a huge fan of playing games like that, I like knowing ahead of time what to expect. If someone has set up a fantasy, I'm more than happy to let it play out. But if the intention is to lie to me about what will happen, and then blame me for taking things up a notch (trust me, it happens) then I really am not interested.
There is, however, a third category of experience that can make the J/O-only guys at least worth a closer look. When you do hit the gold that is this third category, the results can be amazingly sexy.
Kent's skin was a lot darker in person than it had been in his pictures, and I got the full look of it as his answered the door in just his boxers. My skin, always a pasty, pale no matter how much time I spend in the sun, was a perfect juxtaposition to his. His hair was much shorter than mine, and his eyes were like jade in the sockets. We were right about the same height, however, and both of us had a slim, slightly muscled build, though he was smooth to my fur. It made us seem almost like total opposites to each other. I really enjoy the way my body looks when I am beside black or tan guys. There is a stark contrast that makes the lines of our bodies almost glow. I knew just by looking at him that I was going to enjoy his company very much.
When we had spoken before, Kent had told me that he wanted to only jerk off. But he didn't want to jerk off to porn, he wanted to watch me jerk off. I was to be like live porn for him. Like a cam2cam session, only in person. I had been hesitant, but his excitement at the prospect had come through while he was talking about it. I had gotten excited just listening to him. And I do tend to get turned on by people watching me.
We stripped naked a stood in front of each other, just looking at each other. I kept thinking about brushing my hand over his body, and the thought of that alone was enough to get me rock hard. His own cock was throbbing out from his hips while he looked me over. I almost felt embarrassed by the openness with which he looked at me. It was a strange experience, knowing I had come to be seen, but then worrying about what I was showing. His black eyes bored into me in the sunlit room, and I felt like even if I were covered, I'd still be naked to him. Whatever he saw in me, however, he must have liked. He licked his lips and began to feel his body up.
I watched him closely too. At first trying to match the intense gaze that he had given me. But I knew I liked Kent. I had known I would like him just by talking to him. So instead of matching his gaze, I began to match his movements. He would run his right hand up and down his torso, pinching a nipple at the top and stopping just shy of his cock at the bottom. I did the same thing, only with my left hand. His left hand stroked his face and ears, my right hand stroked mine. I was determined to mirror his every move, allowing him to pull me into his pleasure, to fall in sync with him. I let his pleasure be my pleasure, and when his movements did something that really made me feel good, I let him know with an appreciative moan. He would do the same.
At some point we became so locked in to each other's pleasure that I was no longer sure if he was leading and I was the mirror or if I were taking control. Or, maybe, no one was in control. We had somehow, in our mirror play, actually become mirrors of each other, anticipating the next move the other would make so that it felt seamless when we moved to match. I was incredibly hard with this realization and dripping precum at my usual intense level. His own cock would throb and let a string of precum dangle tantalizingly from the tip, stretching with a bobbing motion.
We had moved closer. Close enough to touch very easily, but neither of us made the connection. I could feel his heat matching mine and his movements brushed the air against my body. Every time his eyes locked with mine it was another pull, another chain hooking us together in our mounting passion. I was getting more and more lost in the moment, allowing myself to stop questioning what was so hot about what we were doing and just experience it. It was very freeing to just let his soft sounds block out my own inner thoughts and doubts. I knew I was doing something good because he was clearly aroused, and my own pleasure was clear. I could stop worrying, stop thinking, and just focus on the pleasure.
Once I finally let myself go, I felt my orgasm build quickly. I could tell he was getting close too. His entire body had broken out in a sheet of sweat and his balls had pulled up tightly. He and I were both focusing on our cocks more, and making our strokes more rapid. Our breathing sped up, no longer in sync simply because we were hitting the frenzy point.
Then, right as I was about to announce my orgasm, his hand flashed out and grabbed my cock. I quickly grabbed his too, and then there was no time for words. We both shot our loads, our legs buckling, I stumbled and our bodies finally touched, making my cock shoot out even more at the relief of contact. He caught me and we held each other, sticky with sweat and cum. We eventually came to the floor, resting together on his rug, both completely exhausted. Both with huge, matching grins.