Title: Prick Teasing
Author: Paul Plesko
Email address: pplesko@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: n/a
Character/Pairings: Brian
Category: Brian POV
Rating: NC-17
Date:
Summary: An insight into how Brian uses his power of seduction over the internet.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Author Notes:

Prick Teasing
by Paul Plesko

My cock is my greatest attribute. I know... some guys like my torso, my thighs, or my trim ass... some like the smoldering looks (which makes me laugh, because I remember practicing them in front of a mirror when I was 19)... and some go for the biting humor and the quick retort. But still, overall, my cock is my best quality. When I pull it out in the backroom of Babylon or the Meat-hook, everything else is forgotten... the crowd gathers, and the boys beg for it. It is the gift of nature, modified by the doctor who cut me. I wish I had been given the choice of experiencing a complete foreskin, but he left me sufficient loose skin to slide almost the entire length of my steel-hard shaft, bunching-up under the flared mushroom head which has clogged many a throat or plumbed many an ass. No descriptions of length or circumference are necessary; only guys who are insecure about their dick-size make an issue of it. Seeing is believing.

So it shouldn't be surprising that I use it whenever I can... to attract tricks or to just get-off on the adoration it brings. Wanting-to-be-wanted is a big part of being Brian Kinney.

Alone in the loft, I often visit one of the chatrooms at gay.com... mostly one of the three Pittsburgh area rooms if I'm on the prowl for a trick... but sometimes I branch-out into the Gym, the Locker Room, or the Leather Rooms... and if I'm really bored, I'll visit the rooms for the entire state of Pennsylvania. If I'm just looking for play instead of a trick, I might visit rooms for other cities, masquerading as a local. The name "Brian Kinney" is recognized in most of these rooms by the "regulars"... and the novices are quickly informed off-line when I show-up.

Usually, I meet guys in the chat-room, then take them into "Private" to check their statistics to see if they match their chat profiles. Some guys use so many aliases, they can't keep track of their phony descriptions, so that's one way to catch the cheaters.

If a guy seems like a "candidate", I give him the web-address of my website equipped with a web-cam, and I offer him a little "show" to see if he's interested in hooking-up. Few guys decline the offer. By the way, once a guy knows my website, he can visit it later, and if I'm on-line performing for a "trick" he can watch the show, but he'll know it's not for him this time. It drives the rejects crazy.

Care for a description of a typical web-cam visit?

The loft is usually dark, with the blue neon lights over the bed shining from behind, giving my body a glowing blue outline to contrast with the soft, dim lights illuminating my front as I sit in my chair at the desk. The mini-cam mounted on the monitor can be controlled by my right hand (leaving my left for more important things)... and I can move it left and right, up and down, and also zoom in and out. I can watch myself on the screen; it's more of a turn-on than looking in a mirror because the picture is not reversed... .more like watching someone else enjoy himself.

I make sure the guy is viewing me by asking a few questions, then I begin to slide my tank-top shirttail out of my levis and lift it over my head, being sure to do it slowly so he has to wait for the pecs and collarbones to appear. A quick hand brushed across my chest adds a little glimmer of oil which will get dispersed later. Sliding back from the desk, I open the buttons of my levis purposefully, then leave them lying open in a wide "V" as the camera swoops in to watch my hand pull out the prize, already semi-turgid and pulsing lowly. Once it's out, and he's had a chance to examine it... to think about it's size and weight, I lift my ass off the chair and slide the levis down my thighs and off my ankles. Naked now.

Soft angled light shows off the muscle contours... and I smile with my mouth barely within the camera's field so he knows that I'm enjoying this too.

A squirt of the oil into my palm is a sign that things are progressing quickly now. Smoothing some of the gleaming oil over my cock tip, I let some dribble down the shaft as if it's escaping; most guys want to reach out to touch it at that moment. I wrap my fist around it tightly, showing that there are still plenty of inches of cock left above and below my wide hand. The hand-motion starts slowly as the camera zooms-in equally slowly... with the skin bunching up beneath the flared head. As it lengthens and stiffens, the larger veins begin to show under the paper-thin skin and the smaller veins begin to add their redness. The velvety head become pink, then red, then almost purple as my fist cuts of the return blood supply... and my cock expands by almost an additional 10%. By now, the oil has been spread over the entire surface, glinting in the warm light and catch a few sparked of blue reflected from room objects.

It is obvious that I am enjoying this... muscles tighten... my free hand swipes across my chest feeling my own firm pec and sliding over to my pumping biceps, then lifts up over my head showing the concave pit and elongated triceps. As the camera pans back, the viewer can see my legs spread, will balls bouncing against the chair-front with each stroke. My head lolls back and to the side... mouth sagging open, and eyes open as slits... the picture of rapture and self-absorbed ultimate pleasure.

I can judge the arousal of my "partner" by the urgency of his messages. While the scenario is always somewhat the same, I often respond to his requests and adjust my speed or activity to please him.

Up and down... the hand motion continues... stroking faster now out of urgency, but controlling my level of arousal so I don't shoot too soon.

Making him wait... making him beg... is a prime objective.

My chest rises and falls as my breathing accelerates. My abs tighten and bulge as I roll my pelvis up to meet each fist-blow... if you look closely, you can see my pulse throbbing in my neck. Sweat begins to glisten on my forehead... then the expanse of my chest... and finally my shoulders... dripping down in tiny rivulettes to pool in my jugular notch or my navel. Moaning softly as I look into the camera... he can imagine it even if he can't hear me... I mouth the words he wants to hear... ."Suck me. Take this big cock and show me what you can do with it." Or "I want to fuck your ass and make it feel good." They all know what they want to do with it.

The climax always comes as a surprise to my viewer. My torso tenses as if the muscles are preparing to expel the entire contents of my body out through that small urethra. I freeze for a split-second... and then the first ropey strands shoot out and upward, usually onto my left shoulder leaving a trail across my abs. The second and third shots go anywhere,because I have truly lost control. The remainder gushes over my fingers into my groin and pubes. I sit still, trembling enough for the camera to distinguish... then sink into the total elaxation of sexual release.

If that doesn't make him want to collect the next load in-person, nothing will. I almost feel applause as I finish... there's no telling how many people have been watching... how many mouths and asses have been desiring me.

When I recover, I judge his interest by his responses... .then ask for more "statistics" and descriptions. A sassy, sexy attitude helps too. If he meets my expectations... and if he's within a short distance... I might invite him to the loft for a re-match... but most of the time, I'm satisfied to just be watched and desired.

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