On grunting

Image by the awesome Stuart F Taylor

Guys, you know that sometimes when you’re masturbating, you make a deep, sharp grunting noise in the back of your throat as you come? I like that. I like that a lot.

In fact, I would go so far as to say that it is the hottest thing about masturbation.

Not when I make that noise, of course. When I make that noise (as I occasionally do) it’s a shameful thing – something that I’m embarassed about, that makes me worry that the neighbours might be compiling a tally chart of just how often I make it so they can write a disgusted letter to the council. I expect you feel the same, which is why I’m here to tell you that it’s not shameful. Or disgusting. It is hot as all hell.

Warning: pervery on the horizon

Be warned that this post is building to something I’ve been informed is relatively disgusting, so if the idea of boys making this noise while they masturbate themselves to a grim and functional climax horrifies you, look away now and come back next week for some less gross but probably more enjoyable feminist ranting.

I frequently ask for cock pictures, and many generous dudes are more than happy to oblige. But the problem with having a steady stream of rock-hard dicks from myriad internet strangers is that the guys I actually fuck sometimes find it hard to compete. I say ‘problem’, but given that my current boy is a playful and competitive sort, ‘challenge’ is probably more accurate.

He once sent me an mp3 file. Yep. Just sound. Because he knows I know what his dick looks like, and he knows I’ve seen enough dick that there are phallic shapes burnt into my retinas, he didn’t want to send me something that was the same as the pictures that other people send me every day.

So he placed his phone on the arm of the sofa, set it to sound record and had a delightfully energetic and incredibly noisy wank.

A wank that ended with a grunt.

Unngh.

Scenes we’d like to see…

I get scenes in my head the way some people get earworms. While you might be humming the chorus from ‘Call me maybe’ because you’ve heard it five hundred times too many when walking around a shopping centre, I’ll have a snippet of hot filth that runs on a loop in my brain for approximately a week or so until I can get it out of my system by either doing it, watching it, or writing about it.

For reasons of etiquette and possibly legality, I can’t do either of the first two. So here goes:

A guy walks into the public toilet at Liverpool Street station, and goes into one of the cubicles. He’s achingly hard, probably suffering from a similar problem to my own – something hot playing on a loop inside his head.

He unzips his flies and pulls his solid cock out from his pants, gripping it tightly at the base and tugging slightly so that the foreskin rides back over the head. A tiny bit of precome leaks from his dick.

He braces himself with one hand against the back wall, and rubs hastily at his cock, biting his lip to avoid making any noise. His hand moves faster, and I can hear the slight shuffle of his hand against his skin, his straining fist rustling at his pants and jeans. It’s furtive, frantic, and there’s an element of practical necessity about it: he’s not horny in the traditional sense, he just needs release. He just needs to do this, to get there, to spray excess spunk into the toilet and relieve the pressure on his aching dick.

After thirty seconds, maybe a minute, he aims his cock down slightly, pointing it directly at the bowl, gives a few more angry rubs, then grunts.

Unngh. 

13 Comments

  • Ben says:

    Now I can’t say which station, because the station is small and in the middle of no-where, and there are no public toilets, I work for the company, and although I usually spend my time stomping up and down trains pestering people for their tickets, I have a lot of scope for where I can take my breaks, and I played out this exact scenario about a week and a half ago, biting my lip while my colleague was in the room next door making the tea. Unngh!

  • Thane Flynn says:

    Yet another fabulously interesting post. My girl has to travel a good bit on business so we engage in a fair amount of Skype sex. Hearing the beautiful noises she makes, including the grunts is so astonishingly sexy and hot for me but of course, like you she begs to differ. No matter how often I scold her for doing so, she tries to stifle the noises. But also like you, she tells me that hearing me cum is the hottest thing she can imagine. Perhaps I’ll appropriate your boy’s idea and make a recording for my girl. As I’m not from the UK, I can’t duplicate your idea exactly but I might be able to find a suitable time and public place to accomplish something very similar. :-)

  • I always tell my lover that I love when he is vocal, especially when we’re having sex and he does that grunt or groan when he feels his own pleasured release.

  • WenchTales says:

    Silent men always make me a bit disappointed. Such an incredibly hot sound. And not just the final big one (though that’s the best one), but grunts in general are welcome. SO welcome.

  • N. Likes says:

    I know, right? I really love listening to a woman cum, and I totally hear what you’re saying about what it sounds like when I cum. I’ve long collected, and published, women’s orgasms.

    Maybe I’ll put up one or two of my own….

  • D says:

    I was once engaged in a long distanc flirtation, and one night I was at a local nightclub, texting with this person, increasingly explicit, some involving people I had seen at the club, some involving the girl I was texting, many involving both.

    She teased me about how hot and bothered I was probably getting and a out how it was too bad that I could t do anything about it at the club, and when I pointed out that the club had bathrooms she shifted her tone to a mocking “yeah, but you wouldn’t”.

    So, I went into one of the bathroom stalls, unzipped my pants, pulled out my cock (really, though, that doesn’t quite get across the vigor with which it sprung out when I unzipped), furiously wanking until a grunted orgasm fill the toilet with spunk.

    When I was done, I hit the stop button on the phone that I used to record video of the whole thing, sent it to her, then got to the business of cleaning myself up and going back into the club.

  • Kitty says:

    You realise you’re never going to get pictures again, right?!

  • freddy says:

    As ever GOTN mines a topic and hits a seam of shared experiences
    We all love the sounds that accompany a climax, otherwise what would be the point of phone sex?

  • Dove says:

    I’m surprised people find this disgusting.

    I understand that everyone has stuff they don’t like and so a few people would – but in general I find this incredibly tame compared to most sexytime options.

    Maybe there’s something wrong* with me, but this seems relatively vanilla.

    *The only thing *really* wrong with me is my inability to distinguish between affect and effect.

  • Qryspy says:

    GOTN, I can’t imagine why you would feel ashamed or embarrassed about your own grunting. I absolutely love it when my wife grunts that way as she comes. If you suppress your own grunting, you are very likely withholding a great pleasure from your partner.

  • Anon says:

    When I’m alone I don’t tend to make noise……I blame years of housesharing. However, when I am with someone I make up for it. Once had the guy who lived in the flat above me stop me on the stairs with a comment about how much I’d enjoyed myself the previous evening. Lol.

    As for the noises guys make……I love them. :D

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.