Not theoretically.
But viscerally, throbbingly, achingly, with big, bulging veins.
It was the kind of arousal that made my skin feel too tight and my breath come too fast and my entire body hum with a frequency I’d never experienced while looking at anything or anyone in my entire life.
And I was looking at men.
Naked men.
Doing naked men things.
So much for clinical detachment.
So much for preparation as a superpower.
I stared at the screen, heart pounding, cock throbbing, and thought:
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Like, literally, fuck.
Well, that settles that, then.
Without thinking, I hit play on one of the videos (yes, Google had graced me with moving pictures). One very muscled man was kissing another equally muscled man while his hands rubbed his chest and . . . oh . . . shit . . . his finger wentinsidethe other man’s butt. The buttee (yeah, I made that up because, fuck, my research hadn’t given me a word) squirmed and moaned and pressed his ass down on the offendingdigit. From the look of the pair, both of them were loving every minute—and inch—of this.
My cock pulsed.
Fucking rebellious traitor.
I clicked play on another video.
Another pair kissed the . . . oh, damn . . . flipped over and . . . seriously? One guy dropped to his knees and began sucking on the other guy’s cock like an eight-year-old who’d bought a popsicle from a roving ice cream truck. The other guy’s fingers dove in the sucker’s hair and began tugging, then pushing, then shoving. The next thing I knew, the sucker was gagging while the suckee fought to keep the sucker’s lips fixed around his dick.
The clip ended.
Google clips were too fucking short.
When had I started sweating?
One link about two-thirds of the way down the search results was for Man4Men.com. I clicked on the link and was rewarded with a porn site filled with full-length feature films (fine, they’re probably called something the Academy wouldn’t accept, but that’s what I knew at the time). I couldn’t access said films without a membership.
Damn it.
My wallet was on the coffee table, only a few feet away.
The membership cost $159 for a year of unlimited viewing. I thought that was a decent price for a proper education, so AmEx paved the way . . . to Porn U, my higher education institution of choice.
And damn, there were categories.
For everything.
And other things.
Things I, to this day, still do not understand.
I stuck with the main ones and clicked the first video, a title with “jocks” in it that seemed appropriate for an NHL player seeking the wisdom of the ancients. The story started simple enough. Two guys drove in an old pickup truck down a dusty road. I wondered if I needed to go get a snack. Would this be a good one? One worth rewatching? Maybe with Jacks?
