Girl on the Net

It’s pitch black in my bedroom. Weirdly, so much darker than it usually is. Perhaps a streetlight is out, or maybe I’ve finally managed the perfect seal on my blackout curtains, so not a sliver of London night sneaks through. Either way, it’s dark. He’s lying naked next to me, big hands sliding smoothly down my body, soft lips on mine, cock growing hard in my hand. And although I’m going to try and tell you parts of this story in the sexy/atmospheric way in which I’ve begun this post, you’ll have to excuse me if the odd burst of glee breaks through, because on this special night I managed something truly remarkable for me: I gave a guy a hand job to orgasm!

I had not set out to give a hand job. That could be said of almost every single sexual escapade of my adult life to date. Me? The BJ groupie? Give a hand job to orgasm? Unthinkable! I mean that almost literally. I am renowned for being terrible at hand jobs. While I’m pretty much always up for groping a dick, I could count on the fingers of a single, spunk-free hand the number of times I have actually managed to wank someone off till they come. Three of those would have been when I was in my early twenties, masturbating younger men who could pop like champagne just because you happened to get the pressure right. One of those, the most recent though still at least a decade ago, was with a friend – a friend to whom I still brag about the event if I happen to get drunk enough. “Mate! Do you remember the time I literally gave you a hand job to orgasm? One of my greatest achievements, I swear to God! You literally CAME! In my HAND! Wasn’t it cool?” He rolls his eyes and laughs at me, but I know that secretly he’s very impressed.

So it’s pitch dark in my room, and I’m making out with this guy. Gripping his dick in one hand, trying to calibrate that grip to the way he likes it to be touched. A firm-ish squeeze, with friction that feels different to how I’d instinctively do it. It’s tough to undo all my years of training on one particular dick, so I’m grateful for practice and feedback.

How do you give someone a hand job?

When people think about hand jobs, they often think that cut/uncut is the headline difference between dicks. But there are plenty of other aspects which also really matter. In the past, some of the guys I’ve shagged have responded with surprise when I ask them to show me how they wank. “Well you just hold it and rub, like this,” they’ll say, doing this, with an expression on their face like I’ve asked them how to breathe in and out. “Thank you,” I’ll reply, grabbing their cock and doing my best to mimic whatever this looked like, then petulantly adding: “I’ve not seen anyone do it exactly like that before.” Because detail is important, and everyone really is different: no matter how instinctively you rub your own dick, and how perfect that technique might be for you, I promise you it’s not the same as the way a different guy showed me yesterday.

If you’re someone with a dick and this surprises you, I beg you to go watch some solo masturbation porn. Pay attention to the following things:

• where the tightest part of their grip is (at the head, just below the head, partway along the shaft)
• how much of their fist is in max contact with the cock (full-fist, just a ring between thumb and forefinger, maybe just a few fingers forming a kind of pinch rather than a complete circle)
• how tight their grip is and whether there’s a specific pressure point they’re hitting (I know some people who have a particular ‘side’ either to the left or right of the raphe line running down the underside of their dick which is more sensitive)
• how quickly they stroke
• how long their strokes are
• lube or no lube (sometimes this is a direct circumcised/uncircumcised distinction but not always)
• the angle of their cock (pointed up, pointed straight out, pointed down)
• whether they’re slightly twisting their fist as they slide up/down, and if so how much of a twist and in which direction
• how often they vary any of the things above, and whether variation is there to hold off their orgasm or bring it on. What are the differences between their technique at the start of a wank and the end? Do they ramp up speed? Increase pressure? Change grip? Switch hands?

I am far from a scholar of hand jobs, my friends, but wherever one lacks specific expertise, there’s a lot of value in knowing what you don’t know. These are the things I don’t know about hand jobs, so that’s what I am observing when I ask my lovers to show me. It’s also why I got in touch with my dick correspondent @Beardynoise so I could run the above list past him and ask: is there anything I’ve missed? THERE WAS! He explained:

“Man does not come by junk alone. Are they playing with their balls or butthole? Or nipples? I know someone who can’t come without yanking his nips off. There are many erogenous zones to use.”

Huge huge thanks to him, cannot believe I missed this part! The potential variations in dick-rubbing technique are just one factor in what makes hand jobs a challenge: there are many other things that come into play.

So! You can’t just master one style then copy/paste it onto everyone else. Even if you’re just focusing on cock, every dick is different, which is one of the things that I personally adore about blow jobs. Learning what each person likes, and tweaking my mouth/tongue/spit/hand/throat/breathing tricks to their specific and individual tastes. But while most people cannot suck their own dick, they are usually able to give themselves a hand shandy, so hand jobs have an extra layer of difficulty. Sing it with me, team: you will never be as good at wanking someone off as they are at doing it themselves.

An ex boyfriend once told me that hand jobs are like cups of tea: it’s lovely if someone makes one for you, but it’ll never be as good as the one you make yourself. This same ex-boyfriend, incidentally, once said – during an interview for a national magazine – that my hand job technique ‘underwent a radical and suspicious improvement’ as we opened up our relationship. The value of practice in action, people!

The sexy bit: I gave someone a hand job to orgasm

Anyway. As I say: it’s dark. Sorry for getting distracted. It’s dark and we’re snogging, and I’m touching his cock. I spit gently on my fingers so they can slide more smoothly over the head, and contemplate switching to a blow job. Blow jobs are my comfort zone – they’re something I can do that he can’t do for himself, so a blow job is usually the safe and easy option if I want to get him to come. Which I do. He comes really beautifully, this guy, and I never thought that was a thing someone could do especially well but there you go. He doesn’t come every time we fuck, but when he does it’s so stunning – he has these long, rolling orgasms which he makes sure to broadcast with grunts and moans that resonate right through my chest. Unngh.

I’m lying on the right hand side of the bed (i.e. the wrong one) so the arm with which I’m most dextrous is semi-trapped beneath me. And he’s started making surprisingly good noises just from me touching his cock, so I roll him onto his back and sit on top – straddling his legs just above the knee – freeing up both my hands so I can really get to work.

Timid little fucker that I am, I do start with a blow job. It’s hard to break the habit of a lifetime. But I don’t want to tell you yet another blow job story, so we’ll skip that part. Let’s instead get to the part where I’m taking a break from sucking to catch my breath, and while I do that I’m casually pulling gently on his cock with rhythmic, upward movements. One hand after the other. No down-stroke, only up.

In the pitch darkness, he moans, and the enthusiasm of it astounds me: “Ohhhh yeah,” he tells me. While I’m giving him a hand job! No lips! No tongue! No throatfucking! Only hands.

Just spit for lube and manual dexterity and firm, steady strokes from base to tip.

“Yeah that’s it.”

Perhaps a slight increase in pressure as the ridge of the head catches in the ‘O’ formed by my thumb and forefinger, but mostly just those strokes. One hand after the other. No down, only up.

“That’s it, good girl, keep doing that.”

I always go fluttery when he calls me a good girl. And in the moment I’m even more grateful for the encouragement than usual because without it I’d have stopped long ago: assumed that this was yet another hand job destined to end in a blow, because hand jobs are blow jobs on hard mode.

But he’s rock-solid for it, and dispensing the praise for which I thirst so desperately, and moaning eagerly with an undertone of surprise like he’s as amazed as I am that this feels so good.

Upward strokes. Over and over. Exactly the same pressure, increasing ever-so-slightly in speed as he makes more noise.

At a couple of points, he gives me direction, and I’m kicking myself for forgetting what it was right now. I responded to it so instinctively, so gratefully that it didn’t sink in. I’d been waiting my whole life for someone to tell me exactly how to stroke their cock, and in the excitement of the moment I forgot to take any notes. I’m sure he’ll be kind enough to remind me when I inevitably ask him for a recap.

It’s slight tweaks to what I’m doing though: the headline is the same. I’m straddling his legs, both hands on his cock, doing my absolute best to keep everything constant unless he tells me to change: speed, angle, pressure, everything. Sometimes I have to make adjustments, just for practical reasons – use one hand to hold his cock still at the base and let the other one perform the upstrokes. But broadly it’s unwavering. As consistent as I can manage with human hands. Firmly pulling upwards, over and over, over and over, over and over, while I grin like I’ve just realised I’m the front-runner in a marathon.

I’m so grateful for the darkness right now, because it means I don’t have to put on a sexy face. I’m not thinking about my expression or position or how my body looks. I don’t try to hide the fact that my smile is so gleeful it borders on creepy. I just stroke and stroke and stroke and stroke and then…

Oh god, the best! The actual fucking best! He starts to moan and twitch like I’m physically dragging the spunk from him, and pumps shot after shot after shot of hot cum right into my greedy little hands. Just so much of it. Fucking everywhere. The slipperiness of it lubes my fingers as I keep stroking – one hand after the other, up and up and up, trying to milk every single shudder and wave of pleasure from his perfectly thudding dick until he has to firmly instruct me to stop.

And remember I told you how beautifully he comes? It’s good in my mouth and it’s great in my cunt, but it’s such an exceptional treat to catch it in my fists. All over them, and all over him. When it’s in your hands instead of bagged up into a condom, it just feels so abundant, doesn’t it? So plentiful. Thick and hot and bursting out of the tip of someone’s dick like warm champagne.

Jesus Christ.

Where was I? Oh yeah. I gave someone a hand job to orgasm, my friends. I can’t take all the credit, and I won’t: I would never have come even close without his feedback and encouragement. His noises and words and explicit guidance and the fact that – let’s be honest – he’s a really astonishingly sexy man, and he was in my bed, and he let me touch his cock, and had the patience to let me keep going when lesser mortals would probably have just told me to give up and suck it. That alone is cause for gratitude and glee.

Despite my effusive ‘thank you’s as I popped to the bathroom to get a towel to clean things up, and the fact that I crowed about it multiple times before we went to sleep (“I gave you a hand job to orgasm! That never happens!”) I’m still not sure I’ve conveyed to this dude just how hot this moment was for me. His dick, in my hands, fully gushing spunk through the gaps between my fingers – a direct result of him guiding me in exactly what to do.

I gave a guy a hand job to orgasm, my friends. And it was the very definition of sexual teamwork.

Would you like to meet this guy? Shortly before I gave him a hand job to orgasm, we recorded an interview for my Patreon. Yeah, you genuinely can come and listen to him being funny and kinky and introspective and generally lovely: we recorded this while he was sitting naked on my living-room floor after a different shag earlier in the evening. Come hear us chat about how we met, nerd out about kink/sex stuff, reminisce about his best/most excruciating spanking implement, and discuss the origins of The Bracelet Game. You have to support me on Patreon to hear it though, that’s the deal. Your money helps to keep the audio porn project running, so you also get the joy of knowing you are technically a porn producer. GO YOU! Subscribe for one month for a couple of quid or get an annual sub at the lowest tiers for about £22/$22 – I’m grateful for any and all support, and you get to meet this lovely dude in return.