The Man who Loved to Please Women

Philip Knowlton was so successful with women that he might well be considered a great lover. He had all the usual favorable attributes. He was exceptionally handsome, sexy (of course), charming, with a gift for le mot juste.

He was comfortably well-endowed. Large enough to thrill, not large enough to cause pain . Fully erect, his penis was six inches long but only slightly over three inches around, or about one inch thick. His technique was superb.

The one advantage he had over other men was that he was deeply concerned to optimise the woman's sexual experience. In fact, he had often stated that he got at least as much pleasure from giving a woman the best orgasm he could as he did from his own orgasm. He bent every effort to make the experience as exciting and enjoyable as possible.

He always felt, however, that there was one thing thing lacking which made it impossible for him to attain perfection. He had no way of knowing just what the woman felt. He had read and had been told that women derived greater plesasure from sex than men. He suspected that the evidence for this conclusion was largely anecdotal . But, suppose it were true . How could he perfect his role in the act so as to maximise the woman's pleasure ? He would have to know how it felt to be fucked by a man.

Repugnant though the idea was to him, Philip realized, of course, that a man can be fucked and that it happens, in prisons, for example, all the time. Philip had nothing against homosexuals, even knew a few casually, but was revolted by the idea of submitting his body to another man. Still, being buttfucked must resemble closely the woman's experience in being fucked.

If he really wanted to know what the woman experienced, that would be the way to do it. Once he knew that, he would be able to perfect his technique and be the ultimate great lover.

Philip had a co-worker in the office, an accountant named Sylvestre LaTapette, who was openly but not obtrusively gay. Philip had chatted with him at office parties and found him to be intelligent and likeable. Perhaps he could talk Sylvestre into doing him a big favour.

It was easy to obtain Sylvestre's telephone number, and, one evening, after much thought, Philip called him. " Sylvestre ? This is Philip Knowlton. I need to get the advice of a gay man concerning a matter of some importance to me. Could we have a talk sometime ?"

Sylvestre was agreeable to the idea and said that he was not busy that evening. "Can it be discussed on the 'phone, or should it be face-to-face ?" "Not on the telephone" said Philip. "Should I come over to your place or would you rather come here ?" "Why don't you come over here, Philip ? (Sylvestre knew that Philip hated the nickname Phil and preferred Philip.) 271 Bell St. Do you know where that is ?"

"I know where Bell St. is. ", replied Philip. "271 is on the corner of Bell St. and Maiden Lane." "Oh, OK. I can find it." " 8:00 PM, then." Philip was as nervous as a teenager on his first date.

Philip found the small ranch-style house easily. Sylvestre answered the door wearing skin-tight slacks. His prominent basket did nothing to relieve Philip's nervousness.

Sylvestre invited Philip in and offered him a drink. Philip chose Scotch-and-soda as did Sylvestre. Then, with much hemming and hawing, Philip explained what he was seeking. Sylvestre shook his head. "I wouldn't advise it. You don't know what you're letting yourself in for. I realize that of course, but it's risky way to get the information you're after. Not that I'd injure your rectum, and I don't have any venereal diseases. It's risky because you may come to like it much too well."

"I can't believe that, Sylvestre. I'm 100% straight." "Seems to me I've heard that song before...." crooned Sylvestre. Let me tell you a short true story about a rough, tough, married Marine. If, after that, you still think it can't happen to you, I'll do what you want, at your own risk."

" It was in the VietNam War, Sgt. McGregor and Lance Corporal Davis were stationed at a remote outpost in VietNam. It was an observation post and they were supposed to report any sign of enemy troop movements in the area to HQ. There were none. There was NEVER anything to report. There seemed not to be another human being within many miles. They had nothing to do.

Sgt. McGregor, aged 29,was married with two children, 'one with outside plumbing and one with inside plumbing.' Lance Corporal Davis was 23, single, but engaged. Both men were healthy horny males and they relieved themselves by jerking off frequently. It wasn't good enough and they were both getting stir-crazy from sheer horniness.

One hot, muggy night, Lance Corporal Davis offered Sgt. McGregor a blow job in exchange for letting Davis buttfuck him. Ordinarily, Sgt. McGregor would have rejected the offer indignantly, but it had been SO long since he'd had any kind of real sex, and he had never considered jacking off to be real sex, that the offer of a blow job seemed very inviting. He didn't even think about the buttfuck. He'd put up with it and then get blown.

Sgt.McGregor agreed. There was some Vaseline in their first-aid kit and Lance Corp. Davis greased up his dick, a modest 5-incher, and slid it thru Sgt.McGregor's sphincter without any real discomfort. Once he was inside, the Sgt. was amazed at how damned good it felt. When Davis began fucking and rubbing his stiff cock on Sgt. McGregor's prostate gland, the pleasure was pure ecstasy.

Sgt. McGregor hadn't expected or even imagined that being buttfucked would make him cum. After all, he was straight and a married man with two kids. But, he found himself rushing headlong toward an orgasm. He couldn't bring himself to say 'Stop !' The orgasm was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He couldn't stop cumming. It was as if he'd saved every drop of jism that his his balls had ever made and was letting it all go at once.

He heard Lance Cpt. Davis moan and felt his cock get bigger, harder, and hotter, and then his gut was being flooded with hot sticky jism. The Sgt. nearly passed out.

He was completely exhausted amd certainly didn't need a blow job that evening. He collected it next day, vowing never to do that again. Although he didn't want to admit it to himself, the pleasure he had experienced was MUCH greater than anything he had ever felt while fucking a woman. including his wife.

Of course, he couldn't keep his vow not to do that again and soon it became a routine. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, Cpl Davis would fuck him and on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, blow him. They agreed to 'observe the Sabbath and keep it holy.'

Finally, the Corps realised that they were out there doing nothing and reassigned them. Lance Corporal Davis was killed in combat soon afterward, just before the US admitted defeat and withdrew from VietNam having lost 60,000 men in accomplishing NOTHING.

Upon his return to his home, Sgt. McGregor made a terrible discovery. He no longer found his wife sexually attractive and was impotent with her. He told her it was due to combat stress, but knew that he was no longer straight. They were soon divorced and he moved to Washington, where I met him in Tacoma. We were lovers for three years. When my employers transferred me to Ann Arbor, he stayed in Tacoma."

Philip thought about the story for a while and then said, "Obviously, Sgt. McGregor was a latent homosexual." "Perhaps" replied Sylvestre, "but how do you know that you aren't ?" "I just know." "He didn't. Alright, I'll say no more.

If you're going to share the woman's experience, this has to be done right. I'm going to take you to dinner, wine you and dine you, kiss you, and indulge in extensive foreplay before we have sex, just as you would with a woman. It's too late to do that tonight, however. Are you free tomorrow night ?" "No, but I am on Thursday." "OK. I'll pick you up at your place at 8:00 o'clock."

Philip's mind was filled with conflicting thoughts and impulses on his way home. He was nowhere nearly as confident of his own heterosexuality as he had claimed to Sylvestre that he was. Should he cancel the date or go through with it ? Was he at risk of " turning queer" as Sgt. McGregor had ? He had never been attracted to other males. Well...he and his best friend had jerked each off a number of times at age 13, but surely that didn't count. Or....did it ?

Thursday night, Philip was dressed to go out to dinner, in dark suit and tie. Sylvestre arrived on the dot of 8:00 PM dressed in a neat black suit, shirt with French cuffs, and black bowtie: just a smidgeon less formal than a tuxedo.

They dined at Armand's on Chateaubriand au champignons with all of the trimmings, and a 10-year-old Pauillac. Sylvestre brought Philip home and kissed him on the doorstep. Philip knew his cue, of course, and asked "Won't you come in for a nightcap ?" Naturally, Sylvestre accepted.

Once inside, Sylvestre, no slow worker, took Philip in his arms and really kissed him and groped him as well. To his own embarassment, Philip had already gotten a boner, as had Sylvestre. Nonetheless, they enjoyed a glass of Chambord together and made small talk for a few minutes while Sylvestre made "bedroom eyes" at Philip who was both amused and strangely disturbed.

It was, of course, Philip's cue to say "Let me slip into something more comfortable." He returned to the living room wearing a lounging robe and a silk Ascot, with nothing underneath.

While they sat on the couch, Sylvestre reached up under Philip's dressing gown and began gently fondling his sex. Philip found himself becoming very excited, rather to his own surprise. While Sylvestre was kissing him, Philip unbottoned his shirt , unbuckled his belt , and opened his fly. Sylvestre swiftly removed his cufflinks and then stood up, throwing off his shirt and dropping his trousers, exposing his ultra-brief Undergear thong.

They repaired to the bedroom, where Philip had already laid out a Trojan and a tube of K-Y jelly on the bedside table. Sylvestre said "I guarantee you that I'm HIV-minus. You'll enjoy the sensation more, and so will I, if I don't use the condom, but it's up to you. Actually, you need a condom to keep from cumming all over the bed, because I am going to make you cum. Have no doubt of that."

Philip put on the Trojan and Sylvestre went into the bathroom and fetched a hand towel. He slicked up his dick with K-Y and told Philip to lie on his back with his knees on his chest and his thighs spread as widely as possible. "This way I can fuck you from the front as if you were a woman and you'll experience being fucked from the front like a woman. Also, I can gaze into your eyes and I can kiss you, both of which I'm sure you do when you fuck a woman."

As Sylvestre wiped the K-Y jelly off his hands, Philip noticed that, although his dick was easily two inches longer than his, it was hardly any thicker, it would probably be easy to accomodate. Sylvestre mounted Philip and placed his boner between Philip's buns and pressed it very gently against Philip's asshole. "I'm going to press gently on your sphincter until the muscle gets tired of trying to keep me out. Then I can slide my dick in without resistance and without pain."

Sylvestre was patient and it was nearly five minutes before Philip felt Sylvestre's hot stiff shaft slide through his relaxed sphincter and up into his body, all eight inches of it. On the way in, it rubbed against Philip's prostate gland and he felt an intense thrill and almost felt as if he were going to cum.

Then the fucking began. Waves of esctatic pleasure swept through Philip's body.

It was true, then, women did have the better sexual experience. Although he did not want to admit it to himself, Philip realised that he had never felt like this when fucking a woman. Everything he had ever done in bed before paled into insignificance beside the pleasure he was now feeling.

Sylvestre was being careful to touch Philip's prostate only very lightly with every stroke, to delay the orgasm as long as possible and thus maximise its intensity. He was very experienced in delaying his own orgasm until it became absolutely imperative to let go.

Philip was thrashing about under Sylvestre's thrusts the way many a woman had under Philip's. As Philip began to approach an orgasm which could not be delayed further, Sylvestre directed his thrusts at Philip's prostate gland, poking, pushing, and pressing on it. Philip screamed as he began to cum spurt after spurt after spurt, inflating the Trojan like a balloon. Just at the point when Philip felt that the sheer intensity of the pleasure would kill him, he felt Sylvestre's load of thick lumpy jism being discharged into his bowels. Philip's body strained to bring up some more cum, and he fainted.

Philip awoke feeling utterly spent, more exhausted than he had ever been before in his life. Sylvestre smiled at him and said "Now you have been fucked to a fare-thee-well. How was it ?" "About like any ten orgasms I've ever had before, rolled into one. If that's what women feel when I fuck them, I envy them."

Sylvestre took his leave of Philip who managed to get up and dump the contents of the hugely inflated condom into the toilet. In the morning, Philip was still too spent to go to work, so he called in "sick". Sylvestre 'phoned in the evening to be sure that Philip was alright.

Now that Philip felt that he knew what the woman experiences, he wasn't sure what to do with the information. Inasmuch as his own experience in a fuck was so inferior, he began to lose interest in doing it. It hurt his masculine self-image to admit that he had enjoyed being fucked so much more than he ever had enjoyed fucking.

Philip looked up in his little black book a really hot babe whom he'd had a few times and asked her for a date. All went as planned, He performed as well as he ever had and she was grateful, but he was unsatisfied. It seemed to him that fucking wasn't much better than jerking off. Sure, he could still do it, but he couldn't enjoy it any more.

On the other hand, he felt guilty, disgusted, and depressed that he had enjoyed a homosexual act much more than he had ever enjoyed normal intercourse. He desperately wanted to be fucked again but he was deeply ashamed about submitting his body to another male.

Uncertain what to do, he telephoned Sylvestre again and said only "I need it bad."

Sylvestre replied "I was afraid you might. Come on over." They had sex again and it was every bit as good as the first time. Philip realized rather bitterly, that this was what he wanted and needed.

Philip explained his guilty feelings and his notion that he was betraying his manhood. He enjoyed being buttfucked more than anything else in life, but he couldn't enjoy it without feeling awful afterward. "I don't know what to do. I feel that I should be fucking women, but I don't enjoy it much any more."

Sylvestre said "I've been thinking about this problem of yours for quite a while. I anticipated it and I feel responsible for it, even though you can't deny that I warned you and tried to dissuade you from trying it. I have a suggestion which you will probably reject as too drastic and unacceptable, but hear me out.

If you weren't able to make love to a women any more, you wouldn't have anything to feel guilty about. No one could blame you for turning to your own sex if you couldn't have sex with women.

A number of my friends are transsexuals. I'm not suggesting that you go that route and try to have your body converted into a woman's body. For one thing, you look too masculine and, even with boobs, you'd never look really feminine. Some of the Transsexuals have had everything removed : dick, balls, and all. Others have been castrated and take female hormones. Neither of these would be right for you. You don't want to give up sex entirely, you just want to enjoy passive sex.

To enjoy being buttfucked, you don't need a prick. Balls, yes. The testosterone keeps your body masculine and maintains the sensitivity of your prostate gland.

If you retained enough of your dick for pissing, but too little for fucking, you could submit to buttfucking without a qualm.

There's a surgeon in this city, Dr. Lemmick, who performs castrations and penectomies for transsexuals. He doesn't require proof that they want to change sex. He's satisfied by gender dysphoria, being unsatisfied or distressed to have male organs. He would amputate your prick, no questions asked. I know that this is a shocking suggestion, but don't dismiss it out of hand.

Think it over seriously and, if you should decide that it's a reasonable solution to your problem, call me and I'll set up an appointment with him for you, and I'll stay with you while he does it."

Philip, of course, was initially shocked and revolted by the idea of giving up his handsome penis which had given him so much pleasure. However, he had to admit that he wasn't getting much pleasure from it nowadays. Furthermore, he didn't really anticipate using it much, if at all, for sex any more. It also occurred to him that a stump which is too short for fucking is still long enough for a blow job.

Philip mulled the possible solution to his problem in his mind for several weeks, during which, he had visited Sylvestre twice and reinforced his desire to be buttfucked.

Finally, Philip called Sylvestre and asked him "If I had my dick removed, would you be willing to be my lover and live with me ?" " I thought you'd never ask. I didn't want to talk to you about love until you were ready to consider it. I'm crazy about you, Philip. Sure, I'll be your lover for as long as you want me."

Philip arranged for a month's sick leave from the company and Sylvestre introduced him to Dr. Lemmick who proved to be a kindly elderly man who discussed the technical aspects of the operation with him, how long the stump ought to be, whether enough skin ought to be left to form a kind of prepuce, partly covering the end, and such matters. He did not not, however, pry into personal matters or inquire further into Philip's reasons once he had been told that Philip was displeased by having a penis.

The very next day, the operation was performed under general anaesthesia in Dr. Lemmick's clinic, where Philip stayed for a week, after which Sylvestre brought him home and provided a male nurse, a gay friend of his, to attend to his needs during his convalescence. During that time, Sylvestre moved into Philip's apartment to begin their domestic arrangement, which continues to this day..