There are two specific moments in my life when I remember the feeling gripping me. A heaving, monstrous wave of lust that left me unable to think of anything else. The first of these moments was the first time I saw a naked woman’s body when I was a young boy, perky breasts and wide smile looking back at me between banner ads on www.boobs.com.
The second time was when my first high school love brought up the idea of bringing another man into our sex life (we were both 18 by now). I remember us jokingly mentioning it as I was walking her to her bus at the end of the school day, and I remember how our expressions changed as we looked at one another’s face realizing collectively that we both wanted this to be more than just a fantasy. It turned me on like a jolt of lightning shooting up from my groin and showering sizzling sparkles through my brain; I would lay awake at night with her fuzzy voice whispering through the telephone the play-by-play of what I was going to see; how she would hold her legs up for him, the jiggle of her voluptuous breasts as she bounced on his cock for me; the spit dripping down his balls as she took him in her mouth.