"The point of ejaculatory inevitability" was the way it was described when I was in sixth grade sex education class. The teacher was a raving lunatic named Dr. Zarlingo, and we, as sixth grader boys were desparately trying to act like we knew it all already, while also trying to take it all in.

That phrase was one thing that I took in, because it described an experience I had, every day, often multiple times a day - I don't think anyone masturbated as much as I did, though I gather that all boys think that.

Anyway TPOEI is the place where you *know* you're going to cum, no matter what. It's where you say, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!", and if your girl doesn't like it in her mouth, she's hopefully learned to move her face away, quick, before the thrusts come.

TPOEI is the place where my personality changes - before it, I'm hot, fun, ready for anything, wild. After it, I'm shy, remorseful, withdrawn, freaked out, ashamed, on and on. I've tried all my life to breach that wall, the wall that separates these two parts of me.

One thing I discovered, is that if I could reach the place, just before TPOEI and relax, that I could maintain my high, fun state. And even better, sometimes I'd reach that point and, if I could *not* do those butt-check-clenching-hip-thrust thing, sometimes, cum would just start to flow out of my cock - I'd have cum, but I wouldn't have orgasmed! This meant that the prudish part of my personality wouldn't have come out yet! So there I'd be, still hot, passionate, wild, and I'd have a nice pool of sticky cum to play with. This was the best!

I'd collect the pool of cum in my hand, and dip my finger in it and smear it over my lips, like cum lipstick. I'd smack my palm with the cum onto my forehead and smear it around my face. I'd chug it into my mouth, and make sure some of it came dribbling out of my lips, and swallow the whole thing. I'd drip it on my face and let it seap down. If I had a dildo around, I'd coat the dildo with it and lick it off. I'd always have a mirror around, so I could see what my cum-drenched face looked like - what I looked like with a thin stream of cum connecting my mouth with the dildo.

Once I collected cum from lots of different jack off sessions in a film canister. I'd found a spot in the freezer where I could hide the cannister. Then when my wife was out of town, I took the full cannister out, and made a great big sloppy mess of myself. I cut the frozed block of cum in two, and put one half in my mouth, and the other half on my forehead while I was lying down. And it was such sweet agony to feel it melting in my mouth, and feel the streams of thawed cum dripping down my face. I still remember how sweet I looked, with big globs of cum all over my face.
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I loved my little secret life. To the world at large, I was a respectable person, helping others, very professional. And whenever inspiration hit, wham, I'd visit a change machine to get about $5 worth of quarters, drop by a porno magazine store, pick up some trashy lingerie, and walk into the arcade. It was cool and pretty dark in there, and I'd wander around, check out a few movies to try to find one I'd like. Enter the booth, shut the door. And with that click of the lock, I'd feel like I could relax.

Such a relief to undo my pants, feel them drop. Take off my tie, jacket, unbutton my shirt, and slip it off. Drop my underwear over my raging erection, and start getting the lingerie on, all the while watching the usually frantic action on screen. I gloried in the my contrast between the well dressed professional I'd been 5 minutes before, and the...what...slutty, depraved, person burning hot with desire.

I would do things to extend it, to push further. One time, when my wife was out of town, I dressed up in the lingerie at home - it was a garter belt and some black nylons (with the seam in back), and a red bra/top type thing. I put my regular underwear on, then my pants, and a t-shirt on underneath my jacket. I put a scissors in my backpack, and the moment I got into the booth, before I could chicken out, I took off my jacket, got out the scissors and cut my t-shirt off. I then undid my pants, and made a big cut in my underwear so it just fell off. There I was, no shirt, and no underwear, locked away in a porno arcade booth - I was *so* turned on, it was furiously hot.

This kind of thing went on for awhile, but, I could feel the raging desire draining out. It started feeling more like an empty ritual, an attempt to get back that passion I'd felt before. What to do? I'd gotten to where I was by pushing the envelope, acting out something that had been forbidden, taboo. How could I push it further?

I fantasized about keeping the door unlocked, letting someone come in with me, but I'd always chicken out. I just couldn't get myself to do it.

One time, when I was buying the lingerie, my eyes passed over the dildo counter, and my heart lit up. The next time, I got my nerve up, and, oh so casually, bought *both* some lingerie and a small, cheap dildo. It was cool - I could do my regular game, AND take another step. Just when the girl in the movie started to suck on the guy's cock, I could suck on the dildo. I could rub it over my face and kiss it, just like her. It was icy hot! I felt I'd reached new levels of depravity. I was not only watching a porno movie in a peep booth, I was dressed in women's underwear, and sucking a dildo. Just the thought of it still makes me hot.

One time, my wife was out of town again, and I splurged and bought an expensive dildo - it had all the ridges, the veins, everything looked just right. I brought it home and put it inside a pair of my pants that I'd laid out on the bed. I got naked, and unzipped the pants on the bed. Pulled the cock out so it stood up. I licked it from the balls up to the head, like an ice cream cone that's dripping. I could feel my tongue reach the ridge around the head, and I'd let my tongue glide around it, licking the top. I kissed it, over and over. I put my mouth around the shaft, coming from the side. Finally I worked my mouth up to the top and wrapped my lips around the head, and felt it come into my mouth. Mmmmm...I'm drooling even now when I think about it! It just felt - perfect - me with a big cock filling my mouth.

I rolled over on my side and just sucked and sucked, like it was a lollypop, or a bottle and I was a hungry infant. I'd nibble at it with my teeth, give it a lick every now and then, and just suck and suck again.

I so wished that it throbbed like a real cock, or that I could stroke it and feel the skin move up and down the shaft, like a real one. But most of all, I wished I could taste the precum and feel streams of cum spurt into my mouth. I'd sometimes take some of my precum and coat the head and then lick it off, and that was cool. But every time I would cum, I could never break through my shame and turned-off feeling to put that cum on the dildo and lick it off. So, I had to work on figuring out how to make *that* happen.
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So, there I was, going to the Lusty Lady to watch, and strip, while I was watching film strips. It was so exciting at first, I felt so free. But then, like so many other things, it started getting old and stale. Needed to up the ante a bit. What to do?

There was a porno magazine store across from the arcade, and sometimes I'd wander in there first. Browse some magazines, trying to get in the mood. And it was there I saw these little boxes with trashy, cheapo (but not cheap!) little flimsy women's lingerie accessories. They have this picture on the box of some gorgeous woman wearing this flimsy little see-through thing - and I got real turned on.

When I was a little kid, I used to hang out in my mother's closet when I was home alone, or when the rest of the family was watching TV. I loved the sheer feel of her slips, when I would brush my cheek up against them. The bumpy feel of lace. The smell - I just loved it. And every now and then, when no one was home I'd get dressed up in her underwear, and I'd get so hard. I'd be wearing her big old panties - bloomers she called them - and there would be my dick sticking out, all rigid and turned on.

So I guess I was prepared for the idea of getting turned on by wearing women's underwear. I bought one of the lingerie things, and went over to the arcade, and did my same old game. One piece of my clothing off for each quarter. Then, when I was naked, I'd put on the slutty women's panties, or the garter belt, or the trashy cloth sparkly bra, or the flowing nightgown. And wow! Once again, I was back into it. What could be more depraved, more slutty than being naked, jerking off in a porno booth? Being naked except for some wearing some trashy women's underwear while jerking off in a porno booth. I felt like I was in heaven, like I'd arrived exactly where I was meant to be. Entirely alone, just cloaked in some sheer women's clothing and my own shame, and loving it.

When the guy in the movie came, I would come, and it was like I was *both* the guy who was spurting great gobs of hot white sticky cum, and the woman who was receiving it, right smack dab in her face. The performers in the film loved it, and I loved it.

After cumming I'd always throw the lingerie away - again, needed to distance myself from my great turn on. I probably went through hundreds of dollars of lingerie - I even started going to regular department stores to buy it and bras, but the porno shop stuff was the best, it was the most trashy, and that was what I wanted.

And it held me, for awhile...
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Posting here has been kind of a thrill - when I saw some comments on my earlier posts, it kind of sent shivers up my spine (and got me a little turned on, I must admit). All my fantasies have always been my secret, and the feeling of coming out, giving them out in public (even anonymousely...) and reading other people's responses makes me a little dizzy, to be honest. I once heard the porn star Nina Hartley give a talk, and she said that having a secret could be really exciting - but it could also be lonely, as no one can connect with you about your secret. It feels good to connect here...

I've always felt this dichotomy between my secret desires and my public face. As I write this, I had a thought that maybe that's part of why I've always wanted to cum on my own face, and had fantasies of wanting other guys to cum all over my face - I don't like the secrecy, and if there's cum on that public face, well that would break the secrecy, wouldn't it?

Way back when, I discovered arcade porno booths - you know, where you'd put in a quarter to see a loop of film in a private booth. I had this (very naive) fantasy that once you got in the front door of the arcade, that all the guys in there would be relaxed, cheerful, open. After all, there was no need for pretense anymore - you don't need to pretend you're not into porn, once you're in a peep show arcade right?

Well, ha! I was *so* disappointed to see the same air of furtive, shameful secrecy inside the arcade as outside. Lowered lights, no one looking each other in the eye (I discovered later that that's a signal that you want company in your booth), people running from booth to booth, because the particular clip that was showing wasn't what they wanted to see. It seemed like a Marx Brother's movie sometimes with all these doors opening and closing - but all very serious, very intense, very furtive. I guess others have the same conflict about secrecy that I do...

There was one place in particular, that has since become kind of famous for having a unionized shop for dancers, the Lusty Lady in San Francisco. Before they had dancers, it was just - oh, probably about 20 individual booths, with locking doors on them. And they weren't TV sets with multiple channels, but each booth had its own 16mm projector - little movie theatres, that would show about a minute or 30 seconds of a film clip for a quarter. You'd watch through the glass, and put in another quarter each time it ended.

I was glad I found the spot, and went there lots, whenever the mood struck me, as I only lived about a 15 minute walk away. As you can imagine, I most enjoyed the clips where a guy (or two) was being sucked off, and where the cum shot was all over the girl's face. I would jack off, and time my orgasm to the films, so it felt like my cum up there on her face.

Then I had an idea for a crazy game. I stacked up a bunch of quarters on the machine and took off one piece of clothing for each quarter I put in (I'd keep my shoes on because the floors were pretty gross). I'd cum as soon as the guy in the film did. If the guy in the film came before my clothes were off, so be it. I'd then just get dressed again, and be on my way.

But I'd try to find films that were close to the beginning of the loop, and one by one, quarter by quarter, my clothes would come off, and there I'd be - naked, really hard, and stroking myself, trying to hold off as long as I could. I felt so free! so excited! It felt so perverted, so slutty - like what could be more depraved than being naked, jerking off in a porno booth? I did take it further (that'll have to wait for another post). And while it was all *very* exciting, it also felt like the gap of secrecy was even more pronounced - how could I go public about something like this??

Well, I guess I just did - and I'm really enjoying the opportunity to do so, and to read your comments...
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I hate it when I feel guilty and ashamed after I cum. *That's* something that's been with me for a long long time. I get so excited, really jazzed on some fantasy or act, and then, once I come, poof - all that excitement is gone and all that's left is shame.

It feels like there's two of me - like one who is so excited and sexually creative, and another that is just ashamed of all that sexuality. And these two side meet at a wall, and that wall is my orgasm.

One time when I was about 13, my friend C came to sleep over, and we got ourselves all excited. I got into his bed and actually touched his dick while he touched mine. It was so amazing - I still remember the feeling of wrapping my hand around someone else's dick! It felt so good.

And we were stroking each other, and I came, and immediately, I got up out of the bed, cleaned myself up, and went back over to my bed. He tried to lure me back, but - no way. I so regret that! If only I had reached over with my mouth and kissed and sucked on his dick!

I'd think, if the excitable part of me was able to leave a mark, instead of just being wiped up and flushed away, maybe it would extend that wall, or knock it down a little bit. So I'd bend myself over and try to work myself up to cum on my face. It would be like, here it is! cum on my face! I'd be forced to admit that this part of me existed.

But I'd always pull back, just before I came. It wasn't until years later that I actually did cum on my face. But more about that later.
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