Date: Sat, 13 Oct 2012 19:31:22 -0700 (PDT)
From: Arthur Arthor <creativewriting303@yahoo.com>
Subject: THE WONDER RUB, CHAMPAGNE, AND PEANUT BUTTER

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * C A U T I O N * * * * * * * * * * *
       Individuals with a peanut allergy should not read this story.
      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * C A U T I O N * * * * * * * * * * *

If you are under 18, please, read no further and go to Disney.com –
RIGHT NOW, YOUNGUN!

If stories involving inappropriate acts between minor boys, or equally
inappropriate acts between adult men, offend you, go to Google.com and
search for Winnie the Pooh.

If, after you read this story, you believe it to be true, then you rank
among those that told George Washington Carver that he was wasting his time
with the stupid peanut.

If you feel prompted to recreate any part of this story, other than in your
dreams, then you should seek counseling from a board certified
psychotherapist , , , or, settle for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

In writing this story, no names were changed, because no names were used.
I will tell you that the bellhop's name was Carlos and the chauffeur's name
was Fritz.

If, after reading the above admonitions, you continue to read and find it
enjoyable, you can find several other stories of mine listed in the
"prolific authors" section.  How about that!  I've never been prolific in
anything, and now I find myself to be a prolific pornographer.  PLEASE, do
not tell my mother.

If you enjoy these fictional representations of wantonness, depravity, and
debauchery, then donate to keep Nifty.org free.  SAY, WHAT?  Yes, there is
no such thing as a free lunch, and, if Nifty is to remain "free", Nifty
needs support from you.  Think of it as an investment in your future
enjoyment - put it right up there with Viagra.

One more thing: You don't get arrested for self-abuse, unless, of course,
you do it in public.  Always practice safe sex . . .  unless you're a
banker, then you should get a room in addition to a condom.  Not being one
to throw caution to the wind, I always advise people to never even
masturbate without a rubber glove!  One never knows where that thing has
been!


*************************************************************
THE WONDER RUB, CHAMPAGNE, AND PEANUT BUTTER
*************************************************************

I was at Chicago's O'Hare Airport waiting for a flight, and, as I opened my
laptop, a gentleman sat next to me.  I did not remember that I had been
reading a Nifty story the night before and had not closed the Nifty
homepage before I closed the lid.  After entering my password, there it was
- the distinctive, and telling, baby blue and rose homepage of Nifty.org.
I quickly scrolled down the page so that the header with the large mention
of erotic stories was not visible.  I had no thought that my new companion
would otherwise be familiar with that selfsame page.  He leaned close and
whispered to ask me what section I preferred.  I could have broken my neck
when I flinched and turned my head to look at him with saucered eyes.  I
had been caught red-handed, or, better said, red-faced, as I'm sure that my
face must have been beet red.  I stammered as my mouth was working faster
than my brain and uttered, "Adult-You-ah-ah".  He turned his head to survey
the area.  After assuring himself that we were well enough isolated from
the madding crowd - not by proximity, but by actuality, because it was,
after all, a madding crowd which was paying little attention to anything
other than their own agendas, he spoke softly and told me that he liked
"Young Friends" best of all, but all of them offered him pleasure - except
for those that wallowed in sadism and degradation, because they had nothing
to do with love.  Then he offered that he knew that there were those that
found cocksucking to be degrading and abominable; which only proved that
they had never had, nor given, a blow job.

I was somewhat relieved that my fellow traveler was a "fellow traveler",
and exhaled for the first time since my unintended confession.  He asked me
how long of a wait I had.  He told me that we must have the same flight and
that four hours was a long time to spend in the uncomfortable environs of
the concourse.  He said that he thought a room in a nearby hotel would be a
much better place to wait, and, with a sly grin, invited me to join him.

Within ten minutes we were registering for a room for the afternoon.  He
asked the clerk to send up a bottle of champagne and two classes.  I could
tell by the expression on the clerk's face that he surmised what we were
going to do.  At that point, I could have cared less, if the whole world
knew that my fellow traveler and I were anticipating a roll in the hay.

After we freed ourselves of our belongings and removed our coats, he
clasped my head with both hands and pulling me into a passionate kiss.  I
embraced him as our tongues got to know each other.  From his closeness I
could tell that, as myself at that moment, he had an erection yearning to
be freed from its confines.  I placed my hands on his hips and pulled him
into me as I ground my pelvis into his.

There was a knock on the door, so we broke our embrace.  It was the bellhop
with our champagne in a silver ice bucket on a stand.  He placed it next to
the table on which he placed a tray with two champagne flutes and another
tray of complimentary cheese and crackers.  He placed the palms of his
hands on either side of the bottle and rolled them back and forth, as
though that would add to the chill of the champagne.  He removed the bottle
and placed it label side up on a bar towel which was placed on his extended
arm.  My fellow traveler smiled and told him that that was an excellent
choice and nodded toward the glasses.  The bellhop removed the wire cage
from the cork, and, with the bar towel, twisted the cork; which needed
little encouragement to be extricated from the tight grip place on it by
the bottle.  He filled our flutes and replace the bottle in the ice.

My fellow traveler thanked him and pressed a hundred dollar bill in his
palm as he shook his hand before he left.  He then told me that, if the
bellhop had pushed the cork with his thumbs and sent the cork flying into
space with a loud pop, the tip would have been only five dollars.  He said
that a job well done deserved recognition and reward.  Whether or not the
bellhop was impressed, I sure was.

After one sip of our champagne he asked me whether or not he could do the
honors, as he reached for my belt buckle.  We placed our flutes on the
table and began to undress each other as we each stepped out of our shoes.
We then stood and just looked at each other with mutual admiration.  I was
relieved that he seemed to find me attractive.  I was impressed by his
physique - he reminded me of Michelangelo's David, but more handsome and a
helluva lot better endowed in the penis department.  (I always felt pity
for David with his diminutive little wee wee.  I guess I should give him
the benefit of a doubt and assume that he had just stepped out of a cold
bath.  They shrink, you know!)  However, I much prefer the more adolescent
and sensuous form of Donatello's David.  His penis, while still diminutive,
seems more appropriate for the perceived age of his David.  I always
thought it was suckulent; and, I would wager that Donatello was of the same
mind.  But, I digress.

We approached each other and each took the penis of the other in hand and
felt the hot flash which was pulsing with each heartbeat.  He guided me to
the bed and had me sit on the edge as he splayed my legs and knelt between
them.  He licked my scrotum and nuzzled my crotch with my penis pressed
against the side of his face.  He turned his head and kissed along the
length of my shaft.  He lingered as his lips pressed against my frenulum
and he extended his tongue and flicked it across the surface - both back
and forth and up and down.  There barely was contact but it was so rapid
that I felt as though I could shoot right then.  He then opened his mouth
and engulfed my glans into that hot, moist cavern of delight.  He moaned as
he savored the small amount of fluid that his ministrations had already
conjured.  He swirled his tongue and slowly pulled his soft lips over the
glans until he was just kissing the tip and his tongue could only flick the
meatus.  My penis knew what he wanted and proffered more seminal fluid for
him to savor.  He opened his mouth and placed his lips tightly around the
ridge of my glans as he rocked his head to and fro.  The sensation was
overwhelming and I knew that I would not last - and I wanted it to last.  I
asked him to stop and stood up as I reached for his hand and told him to
join me on the bed so we could engage in a little quid pro quo.  When he
stood I could not help but notice that he was about to leak his fluid onto
the carpet.  I bent down and lapped it up before placing my mouth around
his shaft and bobbing my head a few times to, in some way, equalize our
situation.

We kissed again as we reclined on the bed.  He was on his back and I
rotated my body and straddled him with a knee on either side of his head.
He maneuvered himself into position and took my cock into his mouth again.
I licked his penis from the frenulum to his scrotum.  I laved his scrotum
and teased his testicles with my tongue.  I considered that only a
formality and quickly returned to his engorged and flaring cockhead.  With
my thumbs at the base of his shaft, I adjusted the angle of attack and
plunged my head upon his shaft as the fingers of one hand played with his
testicles and the other arm wrapped around his leg and I lightly danced my
fingers over the marvelously magical area of his inner thigh.

I did not want to fuck his face, but, sometimes one's reflexes are masters
over intent.  I was fighting the desire to plunge my penis as far as it
would go into his mouth - which is always rude.  I stopped and asked him to
roll to one side; which he did without skipping a slurp.  We had agreed
that we wanted this to last and would tell each other when we were on the
edge.  We edged several times each until it was impossible to hold back and
we had near simultaneous orgasms.  It was all I could do to keep up with
his offering as it seemed that with each swallow my mouth would be filled
again.  He, also, kept his lips sealed around the ridge of my glans and did
not waste a drop of my seed.  We continued to lick our, then deflating,
penes for several minutes.

He then asked me the obligatory question - "Was it good for you?"  I never
understood that question on a man to man basis.  Whether it was good or bad
is always obvious; even the anus is aware of semen flow from the feel of it
as a penis flexes within the rectum.  I've only done that three times -
both giving and receiving - and, although the final moments were indeed
pleasurable, the process, to me, is too laborious and loathsome.

He topped off our champagne flutes and told me that he thought champagne
was the perfect accompaniment to sperm, as he handed me my flute.  We made
a toast to sperm and downed our champagne.  We then kissed again before we
dressed.  As we dressed, he started telling me about himself.  To the best
of my memory, this is what he said:

*************************************** I was an only child and I was the
only child in our neighborhood.  What playmates I had were few and far
between; being the grandchildren, nieces and nephews, or cousins of our
neighbors.  My parents were wealthy; Papa was a financier (today he would
be called and venture capitalists) and Mama was an heiress to a fortune
made in the Texas and Oklahoma oil fields.  Her great grandfather had
drilled more wells than anyone, made several billions of dollars, banked
all of his money, and lived like a hermit.  The residual money should last
several more lifetimes and is in a family foundation and trust funds.  But,
that is beside the point to the story.

With my parents' busy schedules, there was but little time to nurture the
emotional needs of their child.  I spent most of my time as an infant and
preschooler in the care of my governess.  She was a middle aged Prussian
who had been a governess to one of the royal families of Europe; which
accounted for her calling me her little prince.  She was a stern
disciplinarian and I learned very early what was expected of a good little
boy.

When it was time for me to go to school, my governess had already taught me
to read, write, and fundamental mathematics.  I was accepted by an all boys
school - a private academy which had a student body of one hundred and
fifty boys; there were no girls to distract us, and, likewise, for us to
distract.  Each class had no more than ten students and all of the teachers
had Ph.D.s.

They were very strict and intolerant of aberrant behavior.  There were no
detentions or paddling; the only punishment exercised was expulsion.  A boy
might misbehave once; never a third time.  There were no boys admitted who
were not capable of academic excellence, and, if one failed to meet the
standard, he would be placed in "intensive care", which required ten hours
of study with his teacher on Saturdays.  The parents paid and astronomical
amount of money for the education of their sons and we all knew better than
to waste their money and bring shame to our families by being expelled.
And, a boy would rather die than not make the grade.  It was an idyllic,
tranquil, and almost utopian palace of education.

The chauffeur drove me to school each morning and picked me up each
afternoon.  We had no recess and no athletic program.  So, there was no
socializing other than when in the presence of adults.

In this rarefied protected environment, I was not exposed to anything
sexual.  I never thought of sex and was very naive.  The only joy that my
penis provided was when I relieved a bloated bladder.

At about age ten, as I was reading a history of the Roman Empire, I made a
discovery that would change my life.  I was naked, turning pages with one
hand, and absentmindedly fingering my penis with the other.  I had had the
transient erection from time to time and had been amused by them but I
never played with them before this time.  I became aware of a tingling in
my crotch and an involuntary constriction of the muscles of my lower back.
This causes me to flex my buttocks spasmodically and waves of pleasure
radiated throughout my whole body.  I pulled my hand away thinking that I
had broken something.  I closed my book and put it aside.  I looked at my
penis in amazement.  I tentatively touched the sensitive area under the
glans and my penis jerked in response.  I did it several more times before
grasping it between the thumb and index finger of both hands.  I just held
it there as I flexed my hips up and down.  It felt marvelous.  I then
started moving my fingers up and down the shaft, which increased the
pleasure beyond measure.  I found myself holding my breath and biting my
lower lip as the pleasurable sensations grew to an insane level.  My eyes
rolled to the back of my head as my fingers manipulated my foreskin with an
ever increasing pace.  Then suddenly my hips flexed high into the air again
and again as I experienced my first orgasm.

I collapsed onto the bed and enjoyed the afterglow.  When my breathing
returned to normal I looked at my deflating penis and cupped it tenderly
with my right hand.  My first thought was to run and show what I could do
to my governess.  My second thought, which proved to be superior to my
first thought, was that I should not share this with anyone.  And, besides,
my governess would likely severely admonish me and incest that I never do
it again.

The contact of my hand on my penis caused it to again become rigid and I
did it again.  This time my grasp was lighter and the sensations seemed
more enjoyable.  I knew what the goal was and pumped as though possessed by
a demon to reach the goal.  I experienced my second dry orgasm and again
collapsed in the afterglow.  I was exhausted and fell asleep in short
order.

Sometime in the middle of the night my eyes opened to a darkened room and I
had been tucked into bed.  My governess must have put me there.  I don't
know the state of my penis when she did this but it was asking for more
attention that morning.  I obliged and then obliged again, and then again a
third time.  I was floating on a cloud as I drifted back to sleep.

After sunrise I showered and dressed.  I willed myself to not touch my
penis as it had become chafed from the attention it had received.  It was,
however, the subject of my every thought.  I thought that, if I could sell
it, I would make a bigger fortune than the oil fields had produced.  I
thought of what I should name my invention, for I truly thought that I had
invented, what I later would learn to be, masturbation.  It seems that
every boy child from time immemorial has "invented" masturbation.  It
likely played a part in the rivalry between Cain and Abel.  I can hear them
now saying, "I invented that!" "NO!  I invented it!" "NO!  I invented it!"
"BANG-BANG, you're dead!"

I may not have invented it, but I spent several years perfecting the
process.  You know that little twist of the wrist on the up stroke?  That's
mine; I invented that.  If you use that technique on yourself or on your
lover, you should send me a royalty check.  I think a half cent per stroke
should be sufficient to make me another fortunate.  But, I digress.

At that time I settled on the name of WONDER RUB for my new invention and
worked on perfecting it daily - sometimes hourly.  I assumed that this was
something unique to me.  When I did the Wonder Rub, I did not fantasize
about other boys or girls; it was all about me and my penis, and my penis
and me.  I could not imagine sharing this activity with anyone; it was,
after all, a private thing with my privates; that's why they're called
privates!

When I indulged in this absolutely marvelous activity there was no fantasy;
it was all reality.  However, when I was in school, it was impossible to
find the privacy needed to indulge in the Wonder Rub.  Nevertheless, I
could and did daydream about the last time I did it and calculate when I
would be able to do it again, and again, and again.

I found that, after doing the Wonder Rub for several weeks, a clear fluid
was emitted from the meatus.  I rubbed it around the glans and its ridge.
At first I thought it was clear pee but it was slightly viscous and slick.
It was a great addition to the process as it lubricated the skin and it
seemed to increased the pleasure.  It wasn't long after that that, at the
point of orgasm, about a spoonful of the liquid was propelled onto my belly
at the point of my greatest pleasure.  However, within the clear fluid was
a milky cloud.  Over time this substance increased in volume and the milky
cloud constituted an ever increasing portion of it.

One afternoon in my fourteenth year, as I was being driven home, I noticed
the edge of a magazine under the chauffeur's seat.  I picked it up.  It was
a bodybuilding magazine with pictures of near-naked man flexing their
enormously oversized muscles.  I'd never seen anything like it; they were
almost repulsive to my young eyes.  I thumbed through several pages and
felt nothing but amazement at what some people thought worthy of exhibiting
to the public.  As we turned into the driveway I absentmindedly closed the
magazine and placed it on top of my books.  It was not until I placed my
bundle on my desk that I realized that I still had the chauffeur's
magazine.  I grabbed it and headed for the door before realizing that Mama
was returning from her annual trip to Paris, and the chauffeur was leaving
to fetch her from the Airport.

After I finished reading my assignments for the day, I picked up the
magazine and thumb through it again.  I wondered what would possess someone
to want to look like that.  I set aside the magazine and prepared myself
for a session of Wonder Rub.  I picked up the magazine again and was
reading an article on one of the bodybuilders as I pleasured myself; I was
not aroused by the images nor the text, but I did find it interesting.  I
tossed the magazine to the floor so that I could utilize both hands.  At
this point Papa entered the room unannounced.  I had never been caught
playing with myself in all the time that I had been doing it.  I
immediately ceased and raised my knees to obstruct his view of my erection.
He asked me whether Mama had returned yet.  I informed him that the
chauffeur had gone to fetch her.  He turned to leave, and when he got to
the door, he turned and pointed to the lock and told me that I should use
the god damned lock, if I wanted privacy.  He then walked over and picked
up the magazine; he said nothing, but his face reddened and he clinched his
jaw as he shook his head in disapproval.  I said nothing.  I was in a state
of shock.

I surmised from this interaction that I had tacit approval on developing my
invention, as long as I locked the door, and that I should not be reading
bodybuilder magazines.  One would think that the opposite would be true.
The truth was that he thought that the magazine was stoking the fire in my
loins, and I must be homosexual.  But, as I stated earlier, the Wonder Rub
was all about me and, while doing it, I only thought of myself and the
immense pleasure doing it brought me.

The next day there was a knock on my door.  It was Papa.  He told me to
pack a small bag for a weekend trip.  I did.  I did not ask him any
questions and he remained reticent as to why I was doing this.  It was not
until we were on our private jet that he told me that he thought I was
ready to be introduced to a friend of his.  I was to stay with his friend
for two days; in which time she would instruct me in "social graces."

When he indicated that his friend was a woman I became somewhat nervous.
With all of my advantages, or, better said, disadvantages, I was socially
awkward, shy, neurotic and otherwise inhibited in anything non academic.  I
was always taught to respect women as being special creatures.  My neuroses
translated this to mean that they were to be feared.  Sure, my teachers, my
governess, and my mama were female, but everything with them was mechanical
to me.  I feared them all.

After we landed, we drove to the large house where I would spend the
weekend.  Papa took me to the door.  We were greeted by a butler who took
us into a parlor.  It was not long until a strikingly beautiful woman came
into the room and we were introduced.  No sooner had the introductions been
made when Papa said that he would be back on Sunday and turned and left me
there.

The woman embraced my shoulders as she walked me up the stairs and told me
what a good time I was going to have.  She showed me my room and told me
that I should take a shower.  She handed me a pair of silk boxer shorts and
told me that I should wear them after my shower - and nothing else.  I was
perplexed but offered no objections; which was my way.

After my shower, I put on the silk boxers and walked into the bedroom.  My
eyes wanted to pop out of my head when I saw that the lady was naked and
stretched out on the bed.  With a finger she beckoned me to approach.  With
trembling knees I approached the bed, but I tried not to look at anything
other than her forehead.  She reached and pulled me onto the bed and on top
of her.  She reached for my penis and fondled it gently as she whispered
words in my ear.  I can't tell you what words she whispered as I was in a
state of shock.  My limp penis remained so; as all of my blood was now
being used to turn my face bright red.  She rolled me over and asked me why
the turtle didn't want to come out and play.  My scrotum was drawn up so
tight that my testicles almost receded.  My pubic hair was enough to hide
my shaft from view.  At that time, it would normally be three and a half
inches when soft and six inches when erect.  It had drawn up as though it
had no structure.

She shifted on the bed to where we were facing each other and she pulled my
head to her breast; which pushed me over the edge - I fainted - dead to the
world.  I was shocked back into the world when she crushed an ammonia
ampoule under my nose.  She now had on a silk robe and was consoling me and
apologizing for causing me to faint.  She said she understood and that my
papa did not need to know what went on while I was within her walls.  Then
she told me that she had a son about my age and asked me whether or not I
would like to spend some time playing games with him since I was going to
be there until Sunday.  I said nothing, but nodded my head.  She took me by
the hand and led the way downstairs and then into the basement which was
fully finished with two bedrooms, and exercise room, a TV room and two
baths.

She knocked on a door and it was opened by her 12 year old son.  One might
not think that he was her son, as he had a dark complexion, dark brown
eyes, and jet black hair; which was in contrast to her Irish looks with her
red hair, rosy complexion, and sky blue eyes.  It was obvious that he was
of mixed blood.  She told him that I was their guest for the weekend and
she wanted us to play together.

She left us alone and went back upstairs.  There I stood, still in the red
boxers, shaking the hand of a total stranger.  His mother had failed to
properly introduce us, so, we introduced ourselves to each other.  As we
spoke, he removed his clothing to his boxer shorts, which matched the ones
I was wearing.  I was still frightfully nervous and hardly realized what he
was doing until he was standing in front of me with a magnificent smile on
his face.  He had dimpled cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes.  His skin was
the color of coffee with cream, and was without a blemish.  His black hair
was curly, and reminded me of a Greek boy from the academy.  When he smiled
the contrast between his teeth and his skin made his teeth seem whiter than
white.  Overall, he was one good looking boy.

He asked me whether I would like something to snack on or drink.  While
asking, he grabbed his crotch in a suggestive manner and looked at me in
anticipation.  I told him that I would love a Coke and some chips, if
available.  As I said before, I was very naive.

From a refrigerator in a corner of the room he pulled two Cokes, he opened
a can of Pringle's, and nodded in the direction of the television to
indicate where I should go.  He plopped down on a love seat in front of the
television; I did not know at the time how apropos the name of that piece
of furniture was - I would learn soon enough.

He handed me my Coke and the can of Pringle's as he turned on cartoons for
us to watch as we refreshed ourselves.  We chatted during the commercial
breaks and I asked him where his father was.  He told me that he was dead,
that his mother had shot him between the eyes after he raped her in a dark
alley in downtown Dallas.  He told me that his mother did not know that she
was pregnant until two weeks before he was born.  He told me that his
mother had always treated him as a mother should and that he was glad now
to be able to help her with her business.  I was naive; it could've been a
flower shop for all I knew.

Occasionally we would laugh so hard at the Roadrunner or Foghorn Leghorn
that I hardly noticed that he had moved closer to me and we were
practically shoulder to shoulder.  We turned our heads to look at each
other at the same time and butted heads.  He said that he was sorry and
extended his hand to my forehead and touched me ever so lightly.  Then he
ran his fingers through my hair and stroked the side of my neck and
clavicle with the back of his hand with just the tips of his fingernails
grazing the surface.  A chill went down my back and I felt a familiar
sensation as the muscles of my lower back responded.  I felt a twitch in my
groin as the turtle was coming out of its shell.  The titillation frighten
me because I had never been touched like that before.  I thought that this
must be what a kitten feels when its fur and stroked, because I wanted to
purr.  He could tell I liked it and did it again.  This time he placed the
palm of his other hand upon my crotch and with his extended fingers gently
massaged my silk covered scrotum.  Other than his mother, I had never been
touched like that by anyone.  Unlike his mother's touch, which shocked me;
his touch evoked waves of pleasure throughout my body and I became
instantly hard.  The turtle had come out of the shell and was now being
pressed against my belly by my new friend's hand.  The turtle had never
been happier as my hips rocked and pressed against the invading hand.

I splayed my legs as an implicit approbation of my new friend's invasion of
my person.  He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.  He ran his tongue
across my lips and parted them.  He then took my lower lip between his lips
and ran his tongue and over its surface.  He then did the same to my upper
lip.  Next he plunged his tongue between my lips.  I instinctively opened
my mouth and welcomed the invading tongue as I tried to mimic his actions.
After doing this for several minutes, he pulled away and ran his palms over
my chest and tummy before pulling my torso to his and we embraced.  He
nuzzled my neck, and, with his velvety tongue, he licked behind my ear and
down my neck.  I turned my head up and back to give him better access.  I
heard moans of delight and realized that they were coming from deep within
my chest.

He loosened himself from our embrace and continued licking down my body.
He licked from my clavicle down to my sternum them, alternately, from one
nipple to the other, flicking them with his tongue before gently, with a
mock biting action, taking them between his teeth before sucking them as a
baby would its mother.  He then moved down my chest to my navel.  I could
feel his spittle filling the cavity before he sucked it out.  At that
point, he was slowly jacking my penis; an action I was most familiar with,
but the fact that it was being done by another's hand intensified the
pleasure I was feeling.  Did I say "pleasure"?  No, it was not pleasure; it
transcended pleasure!

He took my hand, and, as one, we stood and removed our boxers.  Although he
was two years my junior, our penes were equal in size; much to my amazement
and delight.

Then it was I who pulled him into an embrace and kissed him as our pelvises
ground into each other.  Our penes were touching - side by side pressing
against the others tummy.  My eyes were closed and my breathing was
sporadic as he broke our embrace, fell to his knees, and pressed his face
into my penis.  He parted my testicles with his nose before licking them
with his hot, moist tongue.  He then licked up my shaft with one long
sensuous lick.  I thought my knees would buckle from the sheer pleasure
that my new friend was creating in my loins.  It was almost imperceptible,
but my hips were forcing my penis forward in response to these new
sensations.

I thought that, as an inventor, I was a rank amateur.  I now stood in the
presence of another Thomas Edison.  The electricity coursing through my
body was just as powerful as anything Edison had produced.  It certainly
was more fun.

My new friend sucked my penis for several minutes before standing and
pulling me to his bed.  He squatted next me and stroked my penis as he ran
the fingers of his other hand from my neck to my navel and back again.  He
then licked my penis before taking it again into his mouth.  He pulled his
lips up my penis as his tongue playfully stroked the frenulum and made
circles around the ridge.  He then pulled himself up and ask me whether or
not he was doing a good job.  I told him that I had never experienced
anything comparable, and I thought this must be what heaven is like.  And
that was true, because all the while, I could hear in my mind a choir of
angels singing THE HALLELUJAH CHORUS.

He stood and giggled as he walked away, much to my chagrin; for I wanted
him to continue what he had been doing.  He told me that, if I liked that,
I was going to love what was coming.  He went to a cabinet and retrieved a
jar of peanut butter.  He seemed to be dancing as a return to the bed,
opened the jar, and, with his fingers, scooped out a glob of a peanut
butter.  He told me to sit on the bed and pull as far forward as I could.
When I did, he spread my legs and spread the glob on my penis, my groin,
and scrotum.  He then told me to roll back and pull my knees to my chest.
It seemed weird, but I did as instructed.  He took another glob of peanut
butter and pressed against my anus, spreading it around my buttocks.  What
seemed weird before was now downright bizarre.

He then preceded to remove the peanut butter with his tongue.  In short
order he had cleaned my butt cheeks before starting on my anus; which he
licked like a kitten lapping cream.  I thought, okay, it's weird - it's
downright bizarre; but what a good weird - what a good downright bizarre.

After satisfying himself that my buttocks and anus were cleared he preceded
up the perineum and sucked the flash of my scrotum into his mouth and
squeegeed the peanut butter with his lips as he pulled back.  He did that
several times before proceeding to add first one testicle and then the
other to his actions.  As he pulled his lips back, he flicked his tongue
across the sensitive testicles.  I never would have thought so, but this
was very sensuous.  I pushed my thighs further apart as he licked the
peanut butter from each side of my crotch.  I was impressed by his
enthusiasm, and, I believe, he was enjoying it as much as I.  He sure as
hell liked peanut butter!

As he removed the peanut butter from my engorged penis, I added a little
taste enhancement; which spurred him on as he took my glans into his mouth
and sucked the remaining peanut butter from my flash.  I was watching his
face as he was doing this and I noticed that, in addition to his dimpled
cheeks he had a small one on his philtrum as he slurped my cockhead.  That
only added to his charm.  I was falling in love.

I sensed that he would not object to my squirting my seed down his throat
and issued no warnings before doing so.  I doubt that I had ever had a
better orgasm in my life.  He raised his head and smiled at me as he wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand.  He then climbed on top of me and
kissed me several times as our mouths tried to capture the tongue of the
other.  He then nuzzled my neck and licked from my clavicle to my ear.  He
teasingly nibbled at my ear lobe before darting his tongue into my ear and
swirling.  This prolonged my afterglow.  I was one contented individual.

We stayed like that for the better part of an hour.  I loved the feel of
him pressed against my body.  The warmth of him, the feel of his breath on
my neck as it caused the fine hairs there to tickle as they moved in
response, and the awareness of his heartbeat all added to my pleasure.

Up until this day I had been a solo act.  I had been content with the
Wonder Rub, as I could not conceive that there could be anything that could
feel better.  Now that I had been exposed to this whole new plateau of
ecstasy, I had cause to wonder whether or not the Wonder Rub would ever
bring me joy again.  Also, I noticed that my new friend seem to be
receiving joy from his actions.  I rolled to my side and I kissed his neck
as he had done mine; nibbled at his ear, as he had done my; and reached for
the peanut butter . . . . .

***********************************

At this point in his narrative, I had to interrupted my fellow traveler to
tell him that we had lost track of time and our flight had departed fifteen
minutes ago.

He reached for the phone and called the front desk to advise them that we
would be staying over and asked them to please send up another bottle of
champagne and a jar of peanut butter.

__________________________________________________________
I hope you enjoyed this story.  I think my next story will be based
 on my favorite Elvis song; you may know it - BLEW BY YOU -
you don't so much hear it as you do feel it.

The story was dicktated using voice recognition.
Please forgive any anomaly of syntax which you may find.