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Need2submit

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Posts posted by Need2submit

  1. I began my journey toward being a total bottom when I was around 13 and discovered that I enjoyed nothing more than shoving any and every phallic shaped object I could find into my hole.  Candles, screwdriver handles, plunger handles, carrots, and I became adept at carving large candles into dildos.  I would stay up until the wee hours feverishly fucking my boy pussy until I collapsed in exhaustion.

       If I had access to the real thing back then I would have been the biggest cock slut imaginable.

    • Like 3
  2.    Like most nights, I was bouncing between different sites trying to find someone to calm the tension winding up inside me, keeping me wide awake.  It was always the same thing-bots, weirdos, but mostly tops who wouldn't top (if you could find a top at all).  I was tired of half heartedly trying to enjoy someone sucking my dick while waiting for their cock to get inside and trip the switch that so desperately needed tripped.  In the last few weeks I'd finally bought myself a cock cage and changed my profile pics to feature it prominently and make my position as clear as possible.  But, the message still wasn't getting through.  So here I sat in the blue glow of my laptop screen, the pink nub cage dwarfed and engulfed by my swollen balls and a plug firmly in my hole.  All dressed up and no one to blow.

       I popped between windows for yet another tour of the hookup desert while a bareback gangbang squicked away in the corner of the screen.  There it was, the "(1)Email" holy grail on BBRTS.  There were never many guys on it from my area, but the ones who were tended to be the real deal.  My nub twitched as I clicked.  It was from OneMaster.  I'd seen his profile every now and then, right around my age at 45, tall, hung (according to him-there were no pics unlocked), and a lot of "ask me"s right down the line.  Usually I skip past the Ask Me guys, but his blurb kept me alert to his presence: "I'm not the master you will ever want, but I am the ONLY master you will ever need".  And that was it.  Eighteen words and I was on the hook already.  Desperation is a hell of a drug I guess.

       "What scares you the most?"

       That was it.  And it put me right on my back foot.  I was immediately uncomfortable.  It was a simple question, but so weirdly out of context on a hook-up site it threw an instant chill right down to my plug.  And then that chill began to burn, ever so slightly.

       "I'm not sure what you mean." 

       "You know exactly what I mean. Answer the question."

       Was I sweating?  Yes.  I was.  "I'm afraid of going to a hook up and never coming back." 

       The response was "pictures unlocked".  I clicked in and saw some very elaborate bondage equipment-like the BMW of bondage equipment.  Black, smooth, with stainless steel and leather and potential that made me a little sick inside.  Not sure why, but it just did.  He was serious about what he did and I hadn't encountered anything close to it before.  My throat dried up instantly and apparently all of that moisture leaked straight out of my confined piss slit.

       "Get up right now and drink as much alcohol as you can stomach.  Then, drink some more.  I'm sure you also have some sort of benzo hiding in one of your drawers so take some of those too.  You decide the dosage.  While you're doing this, change into the pink panties you are wearing in your picture, get dressed and order an uber.  You are going to take a trip to the bookstore.'

      "Yes sir" I typed and sent and then quickly followed his instructions.  Two ativan, a tumbler of rum chaser, and then into my jeans and a t-shirt.  Of course I was already wearing the panties-a lacy pink thong.  That's just a given.  I'm not a crossdresser per se, but these are my second skin.  As I sent the uber request and slipped on my shoes, I felt that rum heat climb my neck.  I hadn't eaten since lunch and we were already north of midnight as I poured one more glassful for the road.  My nerves were firing hard, but losing the battle quickly.

       "Text me when you are in a booth and down to just those panties."  He left his number and went offline.  I took my last swallow and then waited by the door.

     

    THE BOOKSTORE

     

        I sat on the cool pleather of the bench seat in the booth, goose flesh immediately ran across my body and the push of the plug as my weight came to rest centered me.  There was a decent crowd in the corridors tonight, I counted ten or eleven guys slinking around while I swayed back to my favorite spot.  As I stared at the sweaty, cum foamed balls slapping a faceless bottom's taint on the screen I texted him.  "Here".

        His response was immediate. "Unlock the door, turn to the bench and bend over at the waist."

       I was significantly less surefooted than I was just minutes before as I rose and clicked the lock open.  The ativan was kicking in and the adrenaline was wearing off.  It felt like it took ten minutes to turn away and bend, my hands almost missing the bench as I lurched forward.  I'm glad I didn't have anything to focus on because that was well outside my ability from that point on.  I'd settled for a moment and the door slowly opened, the spring at the top corner stretching its coppery sound.  Then hands.  Smooth hands, sliding with just a little less firmness than I'd expected from a man as decisive as someone named OneMaster.  I rode the tingling though and waited for where this dance was going to end up.  It didn't take much more than a moment for the zipper to sound out and his pants to hit the floor.  The hands pulled and turned my head to the waiting, semi-hard cock.  It was a good size, probably seven or so inches when it filled completely, and thick.  The moments between things began to get edited out as they happened.  Hands on my head and then the cock down my throat as though it had been there the entire time and I was just now noticing it.  He didn't say a word and was hard and banging away at my face instantly.  Then his hand sliding down the cleft of my ass, grabbing the flange of my plug on either side of my thong strap, pulling and twisting and pushing in hard. 

        As I was processing every sensation rushing through every part of me, my phone pinged.  At the same instant the cock stopped and held firm in my mouth, taking on that familiar swell.  Then it popped.  Hard.  Cum fired down my throat causing me to hitch just enough for a choking cough to eject a good portion of the load up through my sinuses and straight out my nose.  He pulled out and three more solid pumps splattered across my face.  I was dazed and gagging and struggling to clear my nose and my eyes enough to get back to my senses.  I braced myself and saw the glow on my phone lock screen of the text message.  As he pulled up his pants from their pool on the floor I unlocked and saw the message.  

       "Has anyone come in yet to join you?"

       Now I was confused.  He wasn't in the booth with me?  I shook my head a bit to focus on texing.  "He just finished fucking my face.  That wasn't you?"

       "Oh god no.  I'd never go in a place like that.  Have him take a picture of you right now, if he hasn't left already."

       Somehow I managed to communicate what I needed to the guy before he got out the door and he happily snapped a pic before giving me a smart slap on my plug and making his exit.  I puzzled at it as I hit send.  My face was plastered with cum, my eyes red and glassy, and I looked like I'd been pulled through the fuck bush backwards.  As I hit send, I heard "Thanks faggot, you look good with a face full of cum.  You should frame that pic for your mother!"  and the door slammed shut.  

        A moment after that, my phone pinged again.

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  3. Unplanned.  I had been using condoms when I hooked up, but one night while hooking up with a top from adam4adam the top made a big show about how the rubbers were just too small for him (they weren’t of course) but I decided to say what the fuck—I wanted dick more than an argument.  He proceeded to bone me into paradise and filled my ass with cum.  I’ve never gone near a condom since.  

  4. Your first name : chris

    Your cell number : 492-427-0410 (text only)

    [deleted]: Need2submit 

    BBRTS: Need2submit 

    location Omaha NE, 68154

    Times you're generally not available:  only available Thursdays and Fridays during the day.

    Age: 52

    Height: 6’3"

    Weight: 210

    Ethnicity:  white

     

    It can be hard for me to get away, so when I do, I want to go ALL OUT.  

    72B54ABF-0375-4ADF-AB82-43D916B74B86.jpeg

    • Like 2
  5. Total bottom here and I definitely don’t need to “cum” to enjoy getting my ass thoroughly fucked and destroyed.  For me, cumming is for when I get home, pull out my plug,  and use a mirror to watch those loads leak out of me.  It’s the second best feeling in the world. (Number one is, of course, getting my hole blasted by cock)

  6. Total bottom here and there’s nothing like that drive home, hard as a rock and feeling my thong tight between my cunt lips soaking up anything I can’t hold inside.  The walk of shame is so much better with an uncontrollable hard on and blue balls.  I save shooting my load until I’m home and able to sit in my humiliation while I push the loads out my wrecked cunt.

  7. On 9/3/2019 at 12:35 PM, BoyStrangler said:

    Not too many guys looking to date a dirty fucking whore like you. pozzed up faggots are what men like me use for the dirtiest fucking and doing shit that you can't do to a normal guy. you're not the kind of girl one takes home to meet the family , you're the kind we fuck in the alley. I love fucking trash but I don't want a boyfriend that half the city has fucked and is a well known cumdump. Just keep bending over, spreading your legs and taking all those loads bitch. That's what you exist for. 

    I’d just like to have a relationship with your belt as you tighten it around my neck.  Loads feel better when I feel them shoot deep in my hole just as I lose consciousness.  The biggest orgasm is not knowing if you’re going to wake up this time...

  8.      It was a standard night.  Late.  Laying in bed next to my wife who was sleeping soundly.  It was my time, essentially the only time I could bounce around on sites like A4A, BBRTS, and Breeding Zone and dream of the things I could get up to, or in me.

         I’ve always been Bi, but my chances to explore my Bi side had always been limited to a few times a year and the anonymity of an adult store’s vid booths.  From the start, I knew I loved sucking cock.  Actually, even before I sucked my first cock I loved to wear panties, sometimes pantyhose if I could manage to grab a pair.  When I did go to the booths, I always wore panties.  Not that anyone ever saw them, I was always on my knees before anyone there could get my pants down.  I never wanted my cock touched because I knew I’d cum almost immediately and then all the desire would be on the floor in a puddle and I’d have to leave.

         This secret held well into my 40’s and I’d managed to keep those desires buried in my “real life”.   To that end, I only had two pair of panties-both thongs.  One was a pale pink “no seam” pair and the other a sexy, deep red lace number.  The red lace one I’d wear to work at least once a week so I could feel the texture of the material pulled right against my hole.  It was such a turn-on I needed to wear dark pants to hide any bleed-through from the precum I generated because of the intense sensation.

        But, back to that night.  As I scrolled through the profiles I fell deep into the rabbit hole all the profiles dragged me down.  This one was 6’5”, 250 lbs with a brutal looking cock, the next was a kinky fucker into bondage, piss play, and group action.  The more I looked, the harder my cock got, and the wetter my shorts became.  The more I looked, the more I didn’t want to just look.  I wanted to be in their place and I wanted them in me-balls mashed against my drool covered chin as I knelt before them wearing just my tight panties, my hole creased and clenching against then thong.  As time had worn on, the occasional trip to the booths and the secret lingerie weren’t cutting it.  I needed to act.  There wasn’t really a choice for me anymore.

        The danger of going into some stranger’s house pulled at the pit of my stomach, made me feel like I was in one of those falling dreams I couldn’t snap awake from.  I’d already set the framework for my next step when I’d set up my account a long time ago.  Because I loved being on my knees worshipping a hard cock, I’d set my screen name as “Need2submit”.  It seemed only natural, but it also was another kind of step I wasn’t aware I’d taken.  A certain type would always bite on my profile, and they wanted exactly what that name implied-a slut who would do any goddamned thing they decided.  As time had gone by, I began to want the same thing, but this time outside the fantasies clanging around in my skull.  I wanted to take that next step.  I needed to take that next step.

        Just as I felt my cock almost ready to burst from the thought, the message tag popped.  I’d chatted with a LOT of guys, but it was all talk.  I didn’t tease or flake, I would just evade when that hook-up request came up.  This time, though, something clicked in me.  If the man on the other side of that message wanted something, he was going to get it as soon as I could manage.

         I opened it and saw the screen name, “Victoria”.  Clicking to the profile, it was a cross dresser in full drag.  He was a top, and that confused the hell out of me.  I then flipped back to the message.


        VICTORIA: Hi.

        ME:  How’s it going tonight?

        VICTORIA:  Bored.  Horny.

        ME:  Same here.  Only more so.

        VICTORIA: LOL.

        And so it began.  As my fingers skated across the keyboard, I found myself an hour in and stiff as a side of beef in a deep freeze.   He was cross dresser and a serious top.  In one of his pics, I could also see what else was on offer: a very long, very fat dick that snaked out of a pair of black silk panties and rested on the top of his opaque black stockings that seemed painted on his leg.  The pic was too low res to see the stain of precum dripping out of the mushroom head, but I knew it was there.  And my mouth watered.

        VICTORIA:  So, let me guess.  You’ve never done this before, but you’d like to take this to the next level.

        I sweated as I typed.

        ME:  Yes.  Yes please.

        VICTORIA:  If we meet, you will definitely go to the next level.  Full-on drag.  Makeup, wig, heels—the whole slutty package.  And then, you’ll find levels you’ve barely been able to imagine.

        God.  My heart was almost beating out of my chest.  I had dreamed forever of getting completely decked out, going full sissy.  And then the words came.

        ME:  Yes please.  Absolutely.

        VICTORIA:  Then that is what will happen...

     

        to be continued...    

    • Like 5
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  9. I prefer a real cock for goddamn sure, but a buttplug will always give me a feeling no cock can—that STRETCH and then the POP when my hole clamps shut on the narrow neck.  Plus, a nice fat plug keeps all that cum where it belongs: INSIDE.

    39FD33E0-1FF8-4A56-998D-73FA79A0224A.jpeg

    • Like 2
  10. I’m bi and married, totally on the DL, and yes I feel guilty and filled with regret each time I take a cock and feel that load bust inside me.  I feel worthless and sick when I leave the door unlocked to my vid booth at the ABS and then service every anonymous cock that comes in.  I feel like the lowest filthy whore when I feel the cum soaking through my pants as I drive home, red faced and heart pounding after sneaking out while my wife is deep asleep in the middle of the night and I’ve just gotten railed by someone I found on BBRTS.

         And still I keep doing it because it fucking GETS ME OFF better than any drug I could imagine. 

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