The Sounds of Sex: III – Cumming
Funny how no two guys cum quite the same way. I don’t mean the mechanics. No, what I’m talking about here are the special effects.
First, you’ve got the silent cummers. Those who grew up in strict Catholic households and disciplined themselves to shoot in silence. By the time you realize he’s sprung his load, he’s got his shoes on.
Then there’s the dirty talkers, straight from a student script of the USC Film School’s Porn Screen Writing 101. “Fuck yea – yea, man, here it comes, man, ready for it fucker?– Huh, buddy, huh? HUH?” And he keeps that truck stop buddy motif going right to the last drop.
Then you’ve got the St. Vitas’ Dance Boys. You think the guy may be having a stroke. His body is quivering, his eyes are rolling into the back of his head, and he’s barely breathing. And all you’re wondering is how you’re going to explain it to the paramedics, or worse, your partner who just returned from Walmart and thought you were cleaning the oven while he was gone.
Finally, you’ve got the screamers. No matter how butch they’ve been up to now, and I don’t care if they’ve fucked the shit out of you for the last 45 minutes, when it’s their moment for that DeMille close-up, they’re screeching at the top of their lungs like some silly adolescent girl happily losing her virginity. You either hope your very straight Bible Belt neighbors aren’t home, or thank God you live in a gay ghetto.
But somehow, no matter how we cum, just about every one of us will give out a giggle of relief after it’s all done.
Is the sexual climax God’s ultimate joke on us?