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21

This is the first installation in a series called 21 that chronicles the 21 waking hours of Justin’s 21st birthday.

Please note: I don’t know jack about Tantra, the art or practice of. Just using creative license and no harm is intended!

Much thanks to Sue for excellent edits, additional information and great guidance!

1 - Breathe


**

Brian

7pm

Admitting past defeats, I want to get him something good this year. Something he’ll enjoy, but that won’t pain me to give him. No fucking rings, or jewelry of any kind for that matter, and nothing romantic to the point I want to puke. There has to be some middle ground.

I’m in my favorite bookstore on Liberty Avenue when I see the answer to my quest for greatness.  It looks like a simple book, but looks can be deceiving.  The inside jacket reads, “Discover deeper states of ecstasy and love. Greatly extend your sensual and sexual pleasure, deepen your intimate connections using the ancient sacred art and science of Tantra.” Well the ‘love’ bit is a little over the top, but I could get into discovering a deeper state of ecstasy. As deep as I’ve drilled into Justin I don’t think we need any help, but if he wants to try Tantric sex, we’ll give it a whirl.

I buy the book and go next door for a cup of coffee. Deb would flip if she found out I just paid 5 bucks for a latte when the diner is down the street. Frankly, the diner’s coffee tastes worse than the sole of my Kenneth Cole’s.

I settle in the back corner, burn my tongue on my coffee and pull out my new purchase. Time to study up so that I can play professor later. He’d better fucking worship me for a while for this one.

Four hours later:

Holy shit! What the fuck time is it? Jesus that book was...

I mean, the things it says you can do.

If any of it’s true.

Good God.

**

Later that same night:

“Honey, I’m home,” my voice is sing-songy and dripping with my trademark sarcasm as I throw the door to the loft closed.

“In here,” he answers from the bedroom.

I walk up the stairs, after stashing my secret weapon where he won’t find it any time soon.

I lean over the edge of the bed and plant a soft kiss on his smooth lips. He’s sketching something and though he turns his attention into my warm greeting, his hand never stops moving. I sneak a peek at a still life he’s doing of the nightstand (covered in condoms and various brands of lube). It’s amazing.

“That’s good,” I nod at his drawing as I hang my jacket in the closet and start shedding my clothes.

“Thanks,” he replies, shy as always about any compliments I spend on him.

He puts his sketchpad on the floor next to the bed. Then he stretches out like a cat, arching and moving around as he loosens all of his stiff muscles. I watch the way his soft cotton pajama pants slide down his hips, just barely revealing his pubic hair. I want to reach out and stroke that silky tuft.

I lie down next to him once I’m naked and reach over to stroke the patch of hair I was admiring. He sighs a little and props his upper body up with his elbows in order to watch me. I lean down and kiss the place I was just touching, finally trailing my lips down his hips and nipping at the soft skin there. Out of the corner of my eye I can see his erection stirring.

“What time is it?” I ask abruptly.

 

“Ten to midnight,” he responds, surely wondering why the fuck I would interrupt foreplay for a time check.

I roll onto my back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Ten minutes then.”

“Ten minutes to what?” he chuckles, clearly amused by my spastic behavior.

“Just lie there for ten minutes and you’ll find out.”

He rolls on top of me. “Fuck that, I’m already halfway to hard. We’re gonna fuck.” With that, he attacks my chest, running his tongue over all the places he knows drive me wild. It takes me a second to regain my breath, but I manage to fight him off.

“Yes we are, but in ten minutes.”

“Brian?” He furrows his brow at me, clearly kind of pissed that I’m being so cryptic.

“Trust me,” I say softly as I run my thumb over his full bottom lip.

He sighs loudly and flops down on the bed.

Minutes go by and I peek up at the clock, 11:53. Fuck, this is going to be the longest 10 minutes of my life.


Justin

I yawn and let my eyes drift closed. Ten minutes is kind of a long time. Of course, when you have to hurry up and wait for sex, especially sex with Brian, any length of time is an eternity.

I’m on the brink of sleep when I feel Brian’s hands start to roam over my chest. I let my lips curve into a smile as my body starts to tingle, but I don’t open my eyes.

He moves completely on top of me, draping his long limbs over mine, and when his lips find mine, I finally peer up at him. He looks unbelievably beautiful. I don’t know what it is, but something in his eyes is different than usual. It’s making my gut tingle in a funny way.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers against my lips, making me giggle.

I pull away from him and laugh, “We had to wait 10 minutes to fuck because you wanted it to be my actual birthday?” Interesting…

“I wanted to give you your gift.”

My eyes soften. I held no preconceived notions or false hopes regarding my birthday.  I know that Brian doesn’t make a big deal out of birthdays.  And I’m okay with that. Even when Brian asked me what time it was and told me to wait 10 minutes I did not let my mind reel with birthday possibilities. But now, I have to admit I’m a little excited.

Don’t let me down Brian. Please don’t…

I wait patiently for him to make a move. He kisses my lips softly, and then moves off of me. “ Roll over.” I’m a little stung by the fact it appears that getting fucked by him is the equivalent of a birthday gift. Sure, it’s my favorite activity of all time, but I get to enjoy it twice a day. As special as it is, it ain’t that special.

Deciding not to start a fight and just get on to the sex that I want anyway, I roll over onto my stomach.

He strips my pajama bottoms off and immediately straddles my ass and starts rubbing my upper back. I’m a little confused, but I go with it.

His hands knead my tired muscles. I sigh as I settle deeper into the soft center of the bed.

“Feel good?” he whispers seductively into my ear.

“Mmmm,” I purr in response. I guess a full-body massage is a pretty nice way to start my 21st birthday.

He leans down to speak softly to me again, “I did a little research on a topic that might interest you.”

“Oh yeah?” I mutter, not knowing what the fuck he’s talking about.

“Yeah. Did you know you can have multiple orgasms without ever coming if you master Tantric sex? I figured if we start practicing now, we’ll have it all figured out by this time tomorrow night.”

My eyes widen as I turn my neck at a funny angle to try and meet his eyes, “24 hours of birthday sex? I could get into that.” I just laugh, trying not to let my supreme delight show. I can believe that he picked up on my not-so-subtle hints about Tantra, but I can’t believe he actually went out and learned about it. He is so fucking in love with me.

“Well, according to my research we can actually do it for all 24 hours of your birthday.”

Still wide-eyed, I turn a little to face Brian. He’s completely serious about that. My body’s humming with anticipation.

“So the thing about Tantra is,” his voice gets quiet and his hand starts to make lazy circles on my back, “you have to worship the other person. And you already think I’m a God, so we’re halfway there.”

I laugh a little and swat him on the thigh. Then I raise my eyebrows for him to continue.

“Once we recognize the divine in each other, and I’d say that’s covered, we can move on to expanding our consciousness. Basically, I’m going to drive you crazy for hours and then make you come all day.”

 

After he finishes his Cliff Notes of Tantric sex, he pushes my shoulders square to the bed and starts kissing the back of my neck.

"Where'd you learn that?" I inquire.

“I read a book,” he states matter of factly.

“You can read?” I joke, which earns me a slap on the ass.

“We’re gonna try it all out. Just listen to me, Grasshopper, and all will be revealed.” His hands start to knead deep into my back again and I moan my compliance. I have no fucking clue what he has in store for me, but I’m faint just thinking about it.


Brian

I massage every inch of his body just like the book suggested. I start with the major muscle groups in his back, running my fingers and hands slowly over his skin, watching it turn shades of pink under my meticulous touch. I move up to his neck, out to his arms, I even rub and scratch his scalp for a while which makes him whimper. Then I move down the back of his strong thighs and calves. On the way, I spend a minute on his unbelievable ass, but have to move on quickly because it’s all I can do not to reach down and take a bite out of it.

When I finally move all the way down his body to his feet, I hear that his breathing has evened out and I figure he’s probably three seconds from sleep. Moving up next to him I slide an arm under his stomach, “Roll over,” I whisper against his cheek. His eyes flutter open and his body moves in the direction I’m pushing it. His dick is just semi-hard, which is good. I think that’s how this is supposed to go.

I straddle his thighs and start to repeat my masterful massage on his front side. Completely avoiding his dick, I end up down at his feet again. I pull them up into my lap and push deeply on all of the pressure points the book pointed out. Apparently, if you hit certain nerves in the bottom of the foot it triggers responses in other parts of your body. Different nerves can do things from stimulate your prostate to relieve a headache.

He moans a little as my fingers push deep into the muscle, searching for some kind of sweet spot. I must have hit one, because his moans grow louder.  Finally, I run my hands back up his body and pull at his arms until he’s in a sitting position in front of me.

His lazy eyes focus on mine and his silly smile makes him look like an innocent child. It gets me right in the gut. I bite my bottom lip, hoping I don’t come undone and just take him before we get to the Tantric part.

I take his hand and lay it flat to my chest, “Listen to my breathing and feel it at the same time.” I speak in a low, lust-filled voice. We haven’t done a thing yet, but I’m already past the point of being turned on. Worshipping his body was…mmm, it was good.

We sit cross-legged and facing each other. My hand on his chest and his hand on mine. I silently think that I would never tell a soul I did this. But it’s not too bad.


Justin

Brian gives me this little talk about how we’re supposed to match our breathing and pace it and some other shit. That our hearts are supposed to be beating together.  I swear I’m so fucking relaxed from that amazing massage that I can barely keep my eyes open. I leave my hand on his chest where he placed it and try to focus on the instructions he’s giving me.

Minutes pass, but it seems like forever. I’m concentrating so hard on the pattern of his slow, steady breathing that I go into a weird trance.

I don’t know if I actually fell asleep or just zoned out, but Brian lays me down on my back and starts slowly, softly kissing every inch of my body. It’s amazing.  I just murmur incoherently as his lips become the only thing that exist.

I feel his teeth graze my nipples and then he sucks them, one by one, slowly and deeply until I moan and arch into his mouth. He pets my stomach, “Just breathe.” I suck in a deep breath through my nose, letting it flow out through my mouth. It makes my body warm and tingly. I feel so fucking good.

He keeps moving. I feel his lips trail along my stomach. His tongue dips into my navel. He nips my thighs and licks my calves and traces his tongue along the tips of my toes. I tingle with delight until all I can feel is one deep, long shiver running through my body.

”Brian,” I mutter his name.

“Brian,” I say it again, trying to add a little force so he knows I’m not just moaning.

His face shows up right in front of mine. He looks so fucking sexy looming over me, lips shiny with saliva, eyes twinkling with lust. I want to let this play out. I want to know what else he has in store for me. But  I desperately need him inside me.

“Fuck me,” I whisper.

”Soon,” he smiles softly as his hand pets my stomach.

He keeps staring at me long after our exchange is over. Like he’s staring past my eyes to somewhere deep inside of me.  He just keeps looking until I nearly blush from his unwavering stare. Finally, he puts his hand on my chest again and matches his breathing to mine. I try to keep each breath deep and slow and steady. I’ve never seen him so calm, so controlled (in bed I mean). It’s disarming. It’s wonderful.

 

Brian

I sit with my hand on Justin’s chest for a long time until our breathing synchronizes again and he’s relaxed and not as hard.

I get off the bed, knowing his eyes are following me as I cross the room to the dresser. I open the top drawer and pull out a box, tied with a purple velvet ribbon.

I get back on the bed and hand it to him.

“What’s this?” His eyes widen as he sits up.

“Gift number one,” I reply quietly. I know he wants to jump up and down at my implication that there is more than one gift, which there is, but he shows total self-control. Good boy.

I pull on the ribbon and flip the top of the box off.

He pulls out the small, cream-colored object with the two curly handles and holds it in his hand.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Should I even ask?”

I just shake my head, “Lie back down.”

**
“Jesus,” he gasps as his back arches impossibly high, practically turning his head upside down.

“It’s just me,” I smile down at him.

“Fuck, Brian.”

“Yes dear?” My voice drips with sarcasm and I want to laugh, I’ve never seen him writhe like this. It’s making me so fucking hard.

“I…” his eyes get wide and my thrusts increase in speed.

“What?” I ask softly as I loom over him, practically drooling like a predator about to feast.

“I…I feel strange.” He gulps and I feel nerves jump around in my stomach.

I slow down and focus on his eyes, “Strange how?”

“Like I might pass out or something.”

I try not to smile. “Want me to stop?” I raise my eyebrows as my hand stills.

“NO!” He practically screams as he grabs my wrist, keeping my arm steady between his legs and his new toy lodged safely inside of him.

I pet his stomach with my free hand and lean down close to his face, “Breathe.” I whisper the word and let the warm air from my lips wash over his face. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as I start to move the toy inside of him again. I lay my hand out flat on his chest, partly to remind him that he’s suppose to be breathing and partly so I can be sure that he is. It seems a simple thing, breathing. Air in…air out…but when you’re so turned on that the world’s gone quiet except for your heartbeat and your vision has turned into a color-filled haze, it can be a hard thing to remember to do.

His legs fall apart a little as he relaxes back into the rhythm and the feeling. I watch, with almost detached fascination, as the little white object moves in and out of him. I wonder what it feels like. I wonder how it can be better than a dick. I wonder how on earth he’s held off for nearly an hour. Of course, I’m in complete control. I could probably have him teetering on the edge like this all night. Every fucking tip in that book about giving a prostate massage to someone who’s totally relaxed has been right.

Now, we’ve used toys before, I’ve got a fucking trunk full of them. It was already overflowing with shit before he came along and since then…well, let’s just say we’ve had to make room in a few drawers too. Ironically, we do it au natural the majority of the time, but every once in a while he gets in this mood. And when Justin’s in that mood (I don’t even know what to call it), every fucking gadget I own comes out and I have to fuck him three ways from Sunday with six different dildos while I tug on nipple clamps and smack his ass with my black leather cat o’ nine tails. Kid’s fucking kinky. Love that.

Guess the whole fascination with trying Tantric sex was just an extension of that. Of course, this is also a lot different than just sex toys. There’s something deeper here. The breathing and the focus on the connection between us. I admit, it’s all pretty hot. And then, of course, the whole point of the practice is to extend the plateau of pleasure and forget about the end goal being an orgasm at all. That bit sounds crazy, but we’ll see.

The full body massage got him all warm and relaxed and feeling the buzz. Then I licked every inch of his body until it was slick with spit and he was shuddering. Now I’m using this Japanese contraption to massage his prostate. It’s called an Enemagra, looks like a dildo, but designed specifically for mind-bending prostate massage. The guy at Lickety Dicks told me it’s the hottest thing on the market and that if you use it right you can send someone into an extended orgasm where they feel like they’re coming for half an eternity. Finding the toy was what inspired doing the Tantra research. Well, that and all the hints that Justin had been giving me.  It just kind of all came together in my mind. Now if Justin and I can just come together at the end of this marathon I’d say this was a damn fine start to his birthday.

His dick is purple and so hard it’s pointed straight up at his fucking chin. His legs are open and relaxed again. I keep petting his stomach so he’ll remember that I’m right here. It’s not like we’re doing anything even remotely odd or dangerous but the reassurance is nice for both of us. I’m giving his prostate the workout of the century with this little Japanese wonder. But I realize that after nearly an hour of this he might really be about to pass out.

Over and over and over I’ve been bringing him to just this side of ecstasy and then backing off at the last possible second. The great thing about doing this with him is that I know exactly how far I can take it.  I know what he wants.  What he craves.  What makes him scream.  And what makes him whimper.  He’s easy to read; well, after all this time anyway.

 

I look up as he rolls his head back and gasps. He’s getting close again so I have to back off.  I slow the rhythm down and make my thrusts a lot shallower, not getting all the way to his prostate.

I run my hands down his thighs, “Be right back.”

I slide off the bed and hit the kitchen for a couple bottles of water. The last thing I need is for us to get fucking dehydrated during sex play.

I come back up the steps, and the vision that I see makes my breath catch in my throat.  Legs spread wide, back slightly arched, mouth hanging open. He’s the most gorgeous fucking thing to ever grace this bed.

“Drink,” I put a bottle in his hand as I suck my own down in one long gulp. I discard my empty bottle on the floor, retaking the toy in my hand as he sits up and it starts to slide out of his ass a little. He gasps when I push it back in a little further and then tips his head back, letting the cold water rush down his throat.

When he’s done he hands the bottle and the cap back to me. The rough underside of the cap, lined with little plastic points, scratches the inside of my hand and a light bulb goes on in my mind.

I run my hand up his chest to settle him back on the bed. I take the Enemagra in one hand and the rough little bottle cap in the other. I start a steady rhythm with the toy again. He’s whimpering in no time.

I wait for him to start getting close again. The sweat beads start to roll down the center of his chest, he’s panting and whimpering with every thrust. I see his hands involuntarily come up to control my actions, but he fights with himself to keep them down at his sides.

”Brian,” he moans to me. The way he says my name, so desperate and raw, makes me fucking crazy. I want to take him right then, but I want this to play out, too.  I physically shake my head, trying to regain some control.

Then I pick the bottle cap up from where I left if on the bed and rake it over the sensitive skin on his lower belly.

“Shit!” He sits up a little and looks down to find out what the fuck I’m doing.

I hold up the bottle top and show him the rough underside. I run it over the palm of his hand and down the length of his arm. He shivers from the slight scratch and slight tickle of it. Depending on the pressure it’s wonderful or painful. Both feelings are pretty damn good.

He moans and flops back down on the bed.

“You’re killing me,” he whines, but starts to arch into the touch of the cap as I run it over his hips and stomach.

”Fuuuuuck,” he moans as I apply more pressure. “Brian, please, I have to come.”

I stop moving the Enemagra in him and I cease the bottle cap torture. Putting an arm on either side of his body, I prop myself up above him, put my face close to his, and wait for his eyes to meet mine.

“You want me to let you come?” I whisper the question just before I stick my tongue out and lick his lips.

“Please,” he whimpers in reply.

“So you’ve had enough of the Tantric plateau?”

“I’m gonna die, Brian. Please fuck me.”

“Well, it is your birthday, Sunshine.”

He smiles up at me. “It’s been really good so far.” His voice is quiet and low and his eyes are so soft and happy.

I move down to settle between his legs again and give him a cheeky smile before I start an all out assault on his ass with the odd-shaped toy I’ve been torturing him with all night.

“Brian,” he practically screams as I start in on him.

“Breathe,” I answer sharply as I start to move the massager inside of him with purpose and force and speed. I grab the bottle top with my free hand and start pressing it into the skin on the insides of his thighs.

”Christ,” he moans. His body is jerking to get away from my touch, even though he loves it.

“Come for me,” I say in a thick voice just before I start biting a trail up his thighs, following the bottle cap as it gets closer to his groin. He can feel the direction in which the rough plastic and my teeth are moving.

“Brian,” he moans a firm warning.

I keep moving that way and when I get to his balls I trace the bottle cap over them as lightly as I can, causing him to shriek from the pleasure and pain of it all.

All the while I’m rubbing the rounded, molded tip of the Enemagra over the rounded end of his prostate just the way I’m supposed to. Luckily, before all this started I was pretty fucking familiar not only with prostates in general (I’ve encountered one or two) but specifically with Justin’s. I know what gets him off and just how to touch him.

I take his balls into my mouth one at a time, using my tongue to trace lightly over the area I just scratched. He sucks in a quick breath through clenched teeth. The noise reminds me.

“Breathe,” I order for the tenth time tonight.

“Deep,” I add hoping to remind him of all the things I told him earlier. The deeper you breathe and the more you control each breath, the better you can control your orgasm. You tell it when to start, when to rip through you and how long to last. Learning how to control your body is the key to mind-blowing sex.

With any luck, this kid’s head is about to fly off.

 

Justin

If I could explain this I would.

It’s fucking…uuuuuuuhhhhhhh God. Fuck. I can’t. Shit. God. Fuck. Me. Ssssssssss. Ah.


Brian

I have never in my life been so focused on someone else’s orgasm. But of course, this is Justin I’m talking about. He’s proven to be the exception to every rule.

I can’t wait to make him come all over the place and then slide into his warm, spent, aching body.

I decide it’s finally time to let him come.  I push the Enemagra into the spot on his prostate I know is sure to nudge him over the edge. I just hold it steady and do a little push, push, push and then his body throws itself over the cliff. He’s freefalling into oblivion.

He chants my name as thick, creamy, opalescent streams of come create art across his chest. Besides a little ball licking, I haven’t touched his dick. His orgasm comes from deep inside and wracks his body in a way that is honestly a little frightening. But it’s beautiful to watch. Can’t say I’m not jealous. But this was my idea, after all.

When all is said and done, his eyes are closed, his chest is heaving and his skin is covered in his own seed.

I pet his dick and then give the tip a quick lick; I’ve been dying to taste it.

I slide up next to him and start to run my tongue in lazy circles over his chest, filling my mouth with his scent and distinct taste. It’s salty and it makes my jaw tingle. I love that feeling.


Justin

It’s funny how you often think after great sex, ‘ Wow, that might have been the best orgasm of my life.’ I attribute this to the primacy-recency theory. You just fucking had the orgasm so the effects of it are fresh in your mind. Thus, even the one you had an hour ago can’t compare. But my point is – if I can have a point in my current state of mind – this was, truly was, the best fucking orgasm of my life.

Now that’s what I call a birthday gift.

I just lie still on the bed, feeling my body start to cool and my heartbeat return to a normal rate.

Brian moves up beside me and starts to lick the come off my chest. I fucking love it when he does that. He’ll kiss me in a minute and I’ll taste myself all over his tongue. Drives me fucking wild.

Sure enough, after he’s lapped up every drop of me, his lips meet mine. I open my mouth a little and his tongue delves in, parting my lips the rest of the way. I feel him slide along my teeth and search under my tongue. It’s like he’s bathing the entire inner surface of my mouth with my essence.

He moves on top of me and starts lightly trailing his hands up and down my sides. I know he’s trying to get me hard again. He was so focused on getting me off that his dick is still standing at attention waiting for me to finish it off.

I reach down and take it in my hand. I look up at him with sad eyes.

“What?” He furrows his brow.

“I don’t think I can have you near my ass for a little while,” I say apologetically, but I try to smile to make the news sting less.

He laughs a little “As long as you can fuck me, that’s fine.”

My eyes reveal my shock. Brian does let me fuck him, but not often and he’s never nonchalant about it. Well, he’s never anything about it other than unemotional. This is a nice change.

“Are you asking me to fuck you?” I grin ear to ear.

“Well, it is your fucking birthday.” He answers snidely as he reaches for a condom. I’m hard again, by the grace of God, just from thinking about his velvety, tight hole.

“Best one yet,” I whisper as I kiss him on the cheek. Simple gesture, but I think he gets that I’m thanking him.

“And it hasn’t even really begun.” He raises his eyebrows, implying I better buckle up and prepare for the remainder of my day.

“I don’t know if I can take much more,” I wrinkle my nose and smile as he rolls the condom onto my dick.

He glances at the clock. “Mmm, 23 more hours,” he laughs as he rolls over and raises his ass to meet me.

I grip his hips and slide in smoothly. We both grunt as I bury myself to the hilt and cover his body with my own.

My nose touches the back of his neck. I let my lips touch the soft, moist skin there. I can feel his body adjusting to being filled and I wait for a sign that he’s ready.

“Just breathe,” I whisper his Tantric mantra into his ear just before I hear him release his held breath.

Then I finally start to move in him, thinking about what an amazing birthday this is.

And it's just started.

1:02 am  

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