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Showing content with the highest reputation on 11/16/2021 in Blog Comments

  1. I confess that I, also, find obesity an unpleasant feature, and I do not enjoy servicing men who are morbidly overweight. But my duty is clear-cut; if a man wants my holes, they are his. My personal pleasure or displeasure is immaterial, and I can be quite harsh with myself if I realize that I am not doing my best for a man because of his physical form. To my mind, it is perhaps even more crucial that I serve such a man than a man of admirable physique, because the man who lives within that overweight body likely also suffers from a deficit of physical contact and sexual expression - I may be his best chance at getting something every human being needs. That, essentially, is why I believe I was made this way, to do this thing - to provide an opportunity for men who have a deep need they find it difficult or impossible to meet. That’s why I turn no one away, not because it makes me feel slutty, but because the next man may need me desperately. My experience tells me that sometimes they do - most often, I find that if I apply my tongue to an obese man’s cock, he’ll coat it with cum in very short order. I have serviced the old, the disabled, the misshapen, the timid, the deeply hurt, the deeply confused, the lost. I take them inside the warmth of my body and make them the center of the Universe for a brief time, and do my best to show them that they are human, and they are men. Some of them benefit from this; some of them get no more than they would from shagging any random hole, and that’s fine. That’s also a big part of my purpose, to satisfy men’s incidental need as often as I can. Yet you never know how deeply a man is affected by his encounter - an aggressive, Dominant Top who generally has no difficulty finding ass when he wishes may choose me to breed, and I may find in the course of that breeding that I am able to help him draw more deeply from the well of his primal instinct and connect with something that fulfills him beyond his expectation. If the process leaves me battered, wet, sticky and half-conscious, it only proves that I was the proper instrument for the task.
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