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Folsom 2022 - You & Tina


pervypen

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NOTE: Chems don't enter the picture until SUNDAY, so if you only want to read that, just scroll forward to Sunday, you won't need to have read anything else up to there. That said, I like the build up but I'm very biased.

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It's here, the weekend you've been waiting for. You told yourself it would be a zero holds barred weekend of intense, hedonistic sex. This is what you've saved up for, after all. You arrive with no plans, no tickets purchased, nothing. You tell yourself you'll go with the flow of what excites you in the moment--there are always tickets to be sold last minute anyway.

 

It's Friday night when you first log onto the apps. Grindr, Scruff, BBRT, NKP, Sniffies. You had forgotten, but are quickly reminded, that probably half your weekend will actually be spent in the room, online, looking for men. Because there are people here who have traveled from around the world to engage in the same orgiastic ritual of man sex that you have. It's like the ocean floor suddenly dropped to reveal a gaping maw of the depths, and there are thousands more creatures and denizens of the deep to probe. And they're fucking hot! And so are you. Frankly every time you look at yourself in the mirror you admire how lucky you are to have had your genetics. Earnest eyes framed by thick brows, cheekbones that need nothing to stand out, a jawline that someone could cut themselves on tapering into a perfectly groomed beard framing your chin, and a cute mustache hugging around the corners of your soft lips. Your body is tight, naturally so, without having to go through the burden of hours at the gym each week, and your skin is thin so the muscles ripple out. Your arms are criss-crossed by veins that men love to trace with the tips of their tongues before lapping at your calloused hands sucking on your knuckles bulky from years of working outside.

 

But no one's perfect, and neither are you. Unfortunately, everyone online is always hoping to find Mr. Perfect, and they're always thinking if they plumb just a little deeper, they'll get there. So you mentally prepare to put on a good Netflix series, keep the apps open, and see what you get.

 

Thursday 11pm.

 

Until the parties truly begin and the out-of-towners flood the city, these early nights are a good time to sample the local meat. You're in the neighborhood of Pacific Heights. A lean, white-collar executive wants you to open him up with your fist, and he's already loaded. You love when a man's clean-cut exterior belies the pig inside. You show up, he's on the bed and blindfolded, J-lube and poppers next to him.

 

You tell him to take a hit as you take off your clothes and stick just a single, knobby finger in. You twirl it around getting it nice and wet, before taking it out and sucking on it. Not a big taste of cum, so that load must've gone deep, but that's OK because you know you'll end up fishing it out.

 

You're a slow and gradual fister. You add finger by finger and then switch to the fingers of the other hand. You use a thumb from each to pry open the sphincter and lick around the opening, causing him to moan and push back. You tell him to take two more hits. You love feeling the muscles relax as the poppers set in. There's a small black hole in front you now. You stick the index finger from each hand in, using the four fingers to pry him open further. Then more tongue action. Maybe you even sneak in a popper hit or two.

 

Eventually it's time to introduce the whole of it, all fingers are inside, and you're slowly screwing your hand into him. His moans are soft and shallow now. Once you've turned your wrist as far as it can go clockwise, you move counterclockwise, applying gentle pressure all the while. He suddenly groans much more loudly as the hole abruptly widens and then swallows the whole of your hand. He sighs in relief as he pushes himself back on you.

 

You love fisting because you can feel the entirety of someone's life. When you stop at mid-forearm your fingers are touching an organ pulsing with the beat of his heart. You caress it as he moans and fidgets around you. You tell him to take more hits. This is indeed a very loose hole, and you know exactly what to do with that.

 

You pull out your arm slowly. As your hand reaches the entrance, you turn it palm up in a cupping shape, and press the back of your hand to the bottom of his rectum. That way, as your hand comes out, the cum pools on your palm rather than dripping uselessly to the floor. It was quite a big load, and as you haven't used any lube yet, it's delicious as you slurp it up, making all the noises to let him know you've taken his load.

 

That gets you good and hard so you stand up and slide your dick into him. There's nothing quite like fucking a fisted bottom. You've always preferred looser holes, the folds of the ass caress your entire length like a Swedish massage, which you've always preferred to the other kind that digs in.

 

As you pound into him you tell him to take more poppers hits, and then feed you a few as well. You love being in a synced popper high, and bend down to kiss him, your tongues battling for control up top where your dick clearly has taken over down below.

 

After one last deep grind into him, you pull out with a swift motion while immediately shoving your hand back inside. He gives a sharp gasp but takes it all the same. You stroke and savor the wetness of your dick with one hand while expanding all the fingers of the other inside of him. After the first deep penetration, it's time to explore width.

 

Slowly you slide the fingers of the other hand along the wrist of the hand already inside; then pull out the hand inside and let the fingers meet while applying the same consistent pressure. Your hands are only parallel for a moment before the one that was in slides out and the one that was out slides in.

 

Back-and-forth you go with this sliding motion, gradually shortening the slide so that instead of one full hand coming out as one enters, both start to linger inside. You tell him to do a series of quick hits back-to-back. As the last of the hits settle in you add a twist to both your wrists and once again you screw yourself inside of him, this time with both hands.

 

He groans loudly, his dick has visibly twitched in front of you so you eagerly lean forward and take it in your mouth as you start to twist back and forth inside him. Once he's sufficiently comfortable with both hands you interlace your fingers and start distending your palms outward.

 

His movements are getting more erratic, and his legs start flailing a bit. With the both of your hands unified as a single fist you really start to move quicker, moving in and out with more force. His cries get louder and louder until you feel spurting in your mouth. Immediately you slow the movement of your hands, letting his body quake around them as he empties himself and you swallow eagerly.

 

When he finishes cumming and his legs collapse on either side of you, you keep your fists in for several minutes, slowly suckling on his soften dick and letting him ride those waves of pleasure. By the time you pulled out you almost think he's snoring. Smiling to yourself, you get dressed and head out.

 

Friday 10pm.

 

You're in the neighborhood of Noe Valley. Cute, you suppose, from the row of boutiques that have long since closed. There's not a ton of activity here, a few late night spots open, but you're about to make your own soon enough.

 

You turn off into a side street, walk up the steps to a classic San Francisco Victorian, and ring. In a few moments, the muscle daddy is there. You love a good muscle daddy, the ones that look like they must have taken steroids to look as bulky as they do--as this one does. He's also decently taller and grinning down at you like a lion. You enter his den, fully aware that with a swipe of his paw, he could end you. Yup, that's the turn on.

 

This muscle daddy, however, wants to serve you tonight. His profile on BBRT said vers top, but he responded to your ad mewling to be opened. He gets on all fours and you're surprised momentarily by how smooth his skin is to the touch. As if all the muscles relaxed to grant you dominance. You enter slowly; he's tight! But soon he's opened up, and you're riding on top of him with a size differential that makes you look like small man on minotaur.

 

Friday 3am

 

Muscle daddy came long before you were even close. That's another thing you have going for you, stamina. Maybe it's a good and a bad because sometimes you wish you could be done already. But as they say, don't look a gift horse in the mouth!

 

You had gone back to the room, turned on the apps and browsed some more, but by the time you had returned, a lot of guys were out at the parties, and no one else caught your eye. You sign up for all the cumdump parties on BBRT, because half of them will flake anyway, and rest up for the next day.

 

Saturday 4pm

 

You love this scene. Easy access hotel, door unlocked, ass up. And the cherry on top? There are two beefy cumdumps side-by-side. You come toward the end of the scheduled party because you want more loads inside, obviously, and because you know you have a way of getting people to... extend their end time.

 

When you walk in both bottoms are already getting fucked. You love a good group scene. You undress quickly to not ruin the atmosphere, and crawl up onto the bed. You offer your dick to the bottoms to suck in turn while tweaking the nips of the tops plowing away at them. One of them, a gorilla of a man, moans in appreciation. So you start to tweak both of his nipples while leaning forward to kiss the second top, a younger potbellied pig.

 

The gorilla gets off soon enough and it's your turn. You sink into a really velvety texture. This man is surprisingly loose, the kind of loose that you can't get from cock alone, no matter how big. You mention that and he points to the literal horse dildo he'd been sitting on earlier in the day. You smile big at that and ask him if he wants to take a fist. He says yes and it's on.

 

For several hours, men come and go. You aren't selfish so you offer up his ass as well, but really, it's yours. You're easily punching into guts, and when you rapidly pull out and ask him to push, a beautiful prolapse at least two inches long follows. You quickly use your fingers to pinch his anus and keep the rose bud. It's glorious - each petal with white frosted tips, evidence of cum from the countless other men who have cum inside. You take your time making out with it, using your tongue to probe each wrinkle and fold. Once you've licked up all the cum, you stand up and poke your into the mass of throbbing red flesh, letting your dick curve and bend and be manipulated before finding the hole in the center through which you push. With a gasp from him the whole mass of it shrinks back up and pulls your cock in with it. You tell him to take some popper hits as you relish the warm wet caress on your dick.

 

You pound into him, churning up the loads until you see a frothy mess start to form around the base of your dick. That's what you like the best, knowing that at that point, when the cum is leaking out there's no way it didn't already fully coat every inch of your dick, even sliding into your dickhole.

 

You pull out and start punching again. Full fist, no tapering of the fingers. On the last one he shouts and his entire body shivers as if he's having a seizure. This is the biggest anal-gasm you've ever seen. He whimpers for minutes as it overwhelms all of him. You slap his ass cheeks as the shaking ends and pull out. He pulls you into a sloppy kiss of gratitude before being alarmed at the time. He needs to get ready for a dinner, and you're onto the next one.

 

Saturday 8pm

 

The density of events like this means that the next man is actually a few blocks away. This one just arrived and just finished cleaning out, so is totally fresh, which is nice in its own way. He greets you at the door and pulls you in. He's your height, and similar in build.

 

So far he's the tightest - you can't push your fist further beyond the wrist. Still he's enthusiastic, pulling at your arm to try to bring it further in while making out with you. You alternate fist with fist with dick until he, too, cums, frantically yanking on his cock. You swallow down another load and bid him adieu.

 

Saturday 11pm

 

You're headed out to an orgy. Which sounds fun, but honestly you don't have high expectations. Everyone goes to an orgy with the expectation of porn shoot, but it always ends up with a bunch of standing around. Really, an orgy is often just a bathhouse scene at a smaller scale. It takes a lot of work as a host to cultivate the right type of energy with the right attendees to make it truly a pigsty. And only porn producers have that type of time.

 

Still, the host is super cute, which is always a plus. You're immediately drawn to his supple lips and the way the one on top crinkles a bit at the corner as he smirks. Unable to resist, you start making out in the elevator on the way up to the room. Part of you wishes that elevator ride just didn't end because, predictably so, once you enter you notice that half the people are just standing around and watching, some not even jerking.

 

But that's not you, so you quickly strip and join in on the action. Having topped quite a lot, you focus on sucking. You love sucking especially the dicks from the ass of the cute twink that greeted you at the door. And then you run your hands through his thick curly hair as you push him down on your dick as well.

 

Too soon, however, the orgy is over. The attendees spill out into the night for another party. $100+ tickets are not ones to waste!

 

You head back to the room and browse some more, but ultimately head to sleep, hand on cock.

 

Sunday 11am

 

Overnight an unbelievably young kid messages you - the type of young where you'd almost want to see his ID before hooking up. (Thankfully, he's of age.) He's got a round face, big ears that you love to pull on, and thin lips that part into the most mischievous grin. He's smaller than you, but with a package that, even in underwear, looks like it belongs on a muscle daddy. This was going to be fun.

 

The kid asks if you party, with a twinkle in his eye and that grin on full display. No, actually, you don't. But he's so fucking cute and earnest, and you did tell yourself this weekend would be no holds barred... he offers you a bong and even lights it for you. But of course you have no idea how it works so you suck lamely, and aren't even sure if anything's happening or not. When you pull off of it and no smoke escapes your lips, it's confirmed that nothing happens.

 

He just smiles and takes the bong instead, and you watch as he expertly lights and sucks on it. Once he's got his lungs full he beckons you close and presses his lips to yours and then actually blow the hit into your mouth! So surprised you were that much of the smoke actually escapes before you catch on to the idea and suck in the rest.

 

He asks you how it feels and honestly you don't know what to say. Nothing seems to feel like anything. You're expecting the immediate intensity of poppers, but Tina, as you will soon learn, is nothing like that.

 

You push him back onto the bed and start to finger his hole. This is your routine after all, so maybe once you get familiar, some feeling will kick in. It's early in the morning and the kid is tight. You have to actually work to get a finger in. He simply lies there and sighs as you begin.

 

From the mess on the bed he pulls out some poppers and huffs. Then a can of Max Impact and huffs. Then more of the smoke. The first hit, he blows down toward you and you're surprised at how thick the smoke is. For a second, you can barely even see him! The next hit, he doesn't blow out. Instead he raises and eyebrow and gives you a meaningful look that you understand. So you pull out of him and move up to kiss him, this time taking the full smoke into your lungs.

 

As you exhale and wonder if the smoke is obscuring your face the same way it did his, he motions to get up for a moment. From a drawer he pulls out a plastic bag filled with clear crystals, and drops several into the round bulb that protrudes from his bong.

 

He gestures at it and says let's smoke this shit up. You're nervous, he's probably at least a decade younger than you but has the experience and confidence of a master addict. Strangely, that also turns you on... and a word pops into your head unannounced - trashy.

 

He blows you another hit. Maybe you are feeling something. There's a slight... hum in your mind. You really just want to throw him down and rape his ass. You tell him that and he just smiles, telling you to go for it.

 

So you push him onto the bed, barely giving him time to put away the smoke supplies. You spray a good load of Max Impact onto a towel and cram it in his mouth. You pinch one nostril shut while stuffing the poppers into the other one.

 

You're rock hard and you start pushing into him completely dry. After you make him take several hits from the poppers bottles, you take some as well, then lean down and hold your mouth over his to suck in the Max Impact. You continue pushing into him and peek out the corner of your eye to see that he's just serenely staring at you, with that same twinkle in his eye. That light that suddenly you just want to snuff out.

 

You push into him hard the rest of the way and he moans around the towel. You push off his torso and feed him more poppers hits. You tell him you want to fuck him up. Something in your mind tells you to ruin this kid. His eyebrows slightly wrinkle as his face fully flushes red from the drugs. You don't let up and start to really fuck him, both hands around his slender neck. He's still looking at you with that mirth even though you never took the towel out and he can't actually smile. That enrages you and you fuck harder, even though the abrasiveness even hurts you a bit.

 

You roughly pull the towel out, hands him the bong, and demands he smoke more. He simply utters a fuck yes in the sexiest rasp you've ever heard and complies. Again the first hit he blows toward you so you can't see him at all, and the next he beckons to give to you. This time with an open mouth you hungrily move to accept it into your lungs. When done you blow it back at him and then slap his face, so you can spit into his mouth open from shock. You just smile and punch his chest as well as you begin fucking him in earnest.

 

He tells you how good it feels. How much he wants you to fuck him up. You're starting to drip sweat down. A bead of it catches in your eye and blurs your vision a bit so you can't tell if he's wearing a grimace or a smile. You hope it's the former even though you know it's probably the latter.

 

Sunday 3pm

 

You're back on the apps with intent. Something about that kid brought out an animal inside of you on a murderous rage from years of being caged. And as much fun as you were having and wanted to have ripping him to shreds, he had to catch the fair.

 

Another muscle daddy hits you up. Normally people write Ask me in the question on Drug use, as far as you've casually noticed. This daddy has a clear Yes and you don't even hesitate to get his address. You're on your way before you've realized that you haven't even eaten anything yet.

 

Sunday 4pm

 

You arrive at muscle daddy's place in the Sunset. Too quaint a neighborhood to contain such a pig of a man, you think to yourself, recalling what his profile had implied. He opens the door in a jock and gruffly beckons you in.

 

He has a fully outfitted play space ready to go, backlit with red and purple lights. Music that makes you feel like you're in a bathhouse fills the room and there's porn on two different screens while mirrors allow you to see yourself from every angle.

 

Damn, you think. All that's missing is a sling. Daddy wastes no time in getting on his knees on the bed and showing off his ass, wiggling it at you. He tells you it's full loaded and ready for you. You give it a full lick from his balls all the way to his tailbone. Indeed you smell and taste the cum, just how you like it. The taste brings out that inner beast again, and you start to feel the hum come back. Almost immediately you're back into your route of fisting and fucking soon enough, and this daddy proves to be the most verbal of them all, absolutely loving it and demanding more and more.

 

You pull out and he flips over, before you can get back inside he pulls you for a kiss. He swirls his tongue around in your mouth once and then pulls away. You've been partying? he asks. You nod and he grins. We're gonna have some fun then, boy, he tells you.

 

He hops over to a cabinet on the side of the room, pulling out a pipe, light, another bag of tina, and some other supplies. You tell him, somewhat surreptitiously that it's actually your first time trying the stuff, and you just smoked a little with another kid earlier.

 

He tells you it's not a problem. You wonder if it's an unspoken rule that partiers abide by that blowing hits to newbies is the way to go. But that's what he does anyway. You think he must have a much bigger lungs capacity than the kid because almost immediately after he fills your chest with smoke the hum comes back but it's a bit louder this time. Oof you say as it hits you. For a split second, you feel a similar spiking of intensity like poppers, but it never reaches as high before it mellows out into that hum again. He grins and pushes you onto the bed. You turn around waiting to get at him again but before you know it he's wrapped his arms around you from behind. This is what's great about size differentials; you feel completely enveloped. His large hands run up and down your front, cupping your balls, stroking you dick, tweaking your nipples. His tongue is in your ear and nipping along your neck as his hard cock throbs incessantly against your own entrance.

 

You arch your back to meet it as he thrusts and glides his cock along your ass crack. Next thing you know it's him who has the poppers against a nostril and tells you to inhale. He tells you to inhale big, stroking your stomach and telling you to fill it up, then pushes against you as you exhale, and then switches nostrils. He repeats that four times and the intensity of it - this was a fresh bottle - completely catches you off-guard, as well as the fact that he's halfway in your hole.

 

He pushes you forward and slowly starts to glide in and out. He hands you the bottle and this time tells you to sniff yourself, but on his count. Normally poppers momentarily deflates your dick, but for some reason, this time, pressed against the bed you're hard as a rock. You wonder if this is how your subs feel but you can't think about that too long because he suddenly thrusts all the way in, hits that spot, and you cry out loud.

 

He grinds into you right there and presses his entire body on top of you, once again enveloping you. From that position he thrusts just his pelvis in and out. You hear the sound of the torch and before you know it, he's blowing out the clouds right past your ear so you're completely enveloped in those clouds. You suddenly notice yourself inhaling, trying to bring in the smoke, but he tells you not to worry, the next one will be for you. You strain your neck back, almost giving yourself a cramp to ensure you can adequately reach his lips to take in all that he has to give you.

 

Again a brief momentary flash of intensity and then that hum again, a little louder. You push back against him more, suddenly wishing he were even more hung than he was. He slides his hands under your body to tweak your nips while he continues to thrust his pelvis against and you arch back to meet him.

 

Normally you consider yourself the type to change up positions frequently but suddenly you feel like he could do this to you forever and you wouldn't oppose. When he finally lets up you're almost disappointed. Lucky for you he has to plans to pull out. Instead he expertly maneuvers you while he's still inside so that he's side fucking you, and suddenly hitting new positions inside while you continue to lie there in utter bliss.

 

Again he lights up and blows a first hit at you and the next one pushes into your lungs. You marvel that there's such a quantity of smoke that even when you breath out again he briefly fades from view covered by clouds. Once again that baseline hum that you think is desire comes to life around you. You're moaning as you've never moaned before as he impales you on his cock.

 

When he finally pulls out you almost whine with the desire to have it back inside. He asks you if you've done G before. You tell him you haven't. He nods and tinctures out some liquid and then mixes it with Gatorade. He hands you a glass and without question you chug it down, noticing the bitter taste of it. He tells you it'll take awhile to take effect but there are other fun things to do in the meantime.

 

He lies down on the bed, asking you to get on top and ride him. You love this position as well so you eagerly obey, squirming to get him down all the way to the base of his dick. You feel his sweaty balls pressing against your butt cheeks and that simple touch suddenly makes you profoundly happy.

 

He tosses you the popper bottle and gives you some specific instructions to follow. He asks you to nod to confirm you've understood and you do. You've always loved poppers and you're starting to really dig the smoke so this idea sounds fantastic.

 

He lights up again and nod at you, your sign to take the longest hit you've ever taken on each side of your nose. He'd told you to inhale until literally you can't take in anymore and then hold it. He does the same with the smoke, then nods again. As instructed, you exhale everything in a quick whoosh, and then tightly lock lips with his. He exhales as you inhale, but this time once it's over, rather than part, he instructed you to exhale into his mouth as he inhales.

 

You wonder how this works as there can't be oxygen in that smoke but somehow the meth is powering the two of you. Back and forth you exhale and inhale into the other until actually you're dizzy from lack of oxygen. Finally you pull away and sit up as he starts thrusting upward into you in earnest. Your head is actually dizzy now, the intensity of the poppers somehow dulled and delayed by the smoke comes back in a fever pitch while the hum of the tina somehow becomes more incessant all around you. He tells you to tweak his nipples as he does yours and you look down to grab them. Fuck, you think. You must be really fucked up because your vision is even going weird. In the faint colored lights his face blurs and as he grins it looks like the devil himself is the one fucking you now, goading you to continue. You think how hot it would be for the devil to be the one fucking you and you respond back in earnest, riding and grinding down hard to meet his thrusts. You feel amazing and if you came right now you know it would be the best orgasm of your life but no one is jacking your dick and for whatever reason despite how good you feel you are completely soft.

 

This time, once the popper intensity subsides the pounding in your head continues for even longer, as if your body were struggling to maintain the blood flow up there. Somehow your daddy senses this as you do and tells you to get off and onto your hands and knees. In this position the pounding is dulled and quickly he once again drives into you. He tosses the torch and pipe in front of you. Smoke it you little meth whore, he commands, slapping your ass.

 

Something about that makes your dick momentarily harden and you're eagerly grasping for it. You don't even know what you're doing but you know you want to please him, so you take the torch and heat up the bulb like you saw him doing. As the chamber fills with smoke you suck on it, bringing it into your lungs. When you exhale and see the smoke billowing around you you're actually proud of yourself.

 

Fuck yeah, he says, that'll make you really want it, you want it? Of course you do but you can't somehow articulate the words so instead to show your affirmation you just pick up the pipe and do it again. This is the dirtiest and sluttiest, you've ever felt. Being commanded to do drugs by someone you couldn't see, and filled with an irresistible urge to do so.

 

After you do another hit he takes the pipe for himself. The Pavlovian response built up quick, the sound of the torch makes your dick twitch and soon enough there's another cloud surrounding your head. You shake your head, trying to somehow will it to enter you through sheer contact. He laughs, then blows you another hit and says, fuck yeah we're gonna make a little meth whore out of you. To your surprise you want that, and you tell him fuck yeah, drug me up. You wonder if it's you talking or just you under the influence.

 

You've always been a verbal fucker but you're saying all kinds of things that night you've never said before. He tells you he's going to keep you drugged up all night and invite all the guys to fuck you, and you, you who have never been gangbanged in  your life or even really wanted to participate in one as a bottom, eagerly agrees, telling him to tie you up so you can't say no.

 

He tells you he has some really hung as fuck friends who most bottoms have a hard time getting in. You surprise yourself by telling him that he can just feed you more drugs until they get it in. He tells you he has some sexy poz fuckers who would love to dump their HIV+ loads in your hole. You counter and tell him even AIDS is fine.

 

At that, even he laughs and flips you over. He sinks back into you missionary and again presses his entire body languidly against yours, pelvis continuing to gyrate into you, as he tells you what a quick learning son he has. You beam at the praise. He momentarily pauses, and wonders out-loud if you've ever done a slam. You tell him you have no idea what that is. He just grins down at you and says maybe you'll be ready another time. He catches your disappointment and bends over to lick your nips causing you to twitch with pleasure. He tells you he wants you to build up to it, to being a trashy meth whore of your own doing. You tell him to feed you another hit, then, to which he readily complies.

 

He continues fucking you until you tap him and tell him you have to pee. He shrugs and says, just go, with no motion of getting off. You confirm with him, like... here? He tells you the sheets are waterproof. So you let loose a torrent of piss from your soft dick trapped between the two of you. He groans in pleasure as he rubs his chest across yours, getting that piss everywhere, and then sneaks a hand down there to catch some and rub it on your faces and drip it into your mouth whereupon he quickly leans down and scoops it back out with his tongue.

 

Fuck, you think, this is even fucking dirtier and sluttier. Once again you feel like if someone were jacking you off you might have the biggest orgasm of your life, but once again you can't even reach your dick to touch it.

 

The piss tastes funny and he explains its chem piss, it has all those drugs in it and it will only continue to get you more high. You groan at that and try to suck the piss clean from his fingers. He jokingly tells you he doesn't want you to overdose. Again you surprise yourself... the words that come out of you are: keep fucking me even if I do.

 

You fuck like that for hours. You've always had stamina but the drugs make you feel like you can spend an eternity in this state. And it won't even matter if you never come. As the time goes on, you start to get semi hard again and rapidly stroke yourself, trying to cum. But for whatever reason each time you try to stroke yourself to completion it feels empty. Yet whenever you're not touching yourself, it feels like you're having a body-gasm from how he's fucking you, how he's tweaking your nips, how he's kissing you.

 

That doesn't mean the sex isn't good. The next several hours continue to be the best of your weekend. Even his verbal is bringing you to new realms of... mind-gasms? that you never knew were possible. You just want to marry the three: cock-gasm, body-gasm, and mind-gasm, but it seems an impossible task for some reason. You furiously jerk while he's drilling you and telling you how he's used the cum from his ass as lube and is spreading that dirty load deep into your guts while playing with your nipples, but you never get hard and the cock-gasm refuses the join the other two. Then you're in a 69 and as he's pushing your head to choke down on you while sucking furiously, you feel like you're getting close but wishing someone were commanding you to take that poz load. You want to be the center of an orgy where everyone's focused on getting you there. Someone is fucking you. Your dick is in someone else. A third person is feeding you drugs, while a forth is playing with your body. Bringing you to that elusive nirvana until you finally explode.

 

And indeed that's the fantasy that ends four days of edging, while you're frantically jerking your semi soft cock hard enough to get a cramp. It's not like a normal orgasm, where the feeling crescendos and then the cum shoots out. No, this time you first start spraying cum, and since your dick is soft and it's being jerked every which way it shoots out like a sprinkler system gone haywire. You're worried for a second, almost afraid that the orgasm won't happen until it suddenly does, in the middle of the spurts. This orgasm is different, this orgasm you feel traveling the full length of your dick (well, as much length as there is at the moment anyway) until it reaches climax and you shoot out even more cum. He crows at the quantity of cum spattering forth to cover the both of you as you scream into the darkness of the room. Your body buckles and roils literally you think you've lost sight because you swear your eyes are open but you can't see anything but a hazy gray fog.

 

You lay there, stretched in the afterglow as he laps up the cum off your entire body, triggering secondary quakes as his tongue drags across a nip, or wiggles around the crown of your dick. You've never ever had an orgasm like this before in your life.

 

Sunday 11pm

 

It's only 11 when you finally make it back to your room. When you had first gotten up out of his bed, you got such a head rush you crashed down again and he laughed at you, telling you to take it slow.

 

Like a gentleman, he drove you back, though the drive was painfully awkward with small talk. It felt like you were in a lovers' spat: going from consuming each other with your mouths to being stifled sharing the same air. It was like the orgasm took with it all the happiness you had in your soul and now you were in a vacuum where you were just going through the motions.

 

Soon enough you're back home, and even though you only live on the 2nd floor, you can't take the steps with how much of a migraine you have pounding in your skull, and call for the elevator. Everything feels numb, but actually. Your skin is tingling, You think you actually hear a buzz or a ringing, the same kind of effect that happens when you've been exposed to loud sounds for a long time. You collapse into bed, covered in cum and dried piss and hoping to just sleep it off.

 

Except, you're not sure if you actually do sleep. Instead, you're always hovering in that limbo where it seems like you're partially awake and could be fully awake at any moment. You've had insomnia before, but this is different. Normally, your insomnia feels like a hundred racing thoughts, but thoughts that have endings. This feels like your mind is opening a dozen browser tabs by the moment, but none of the pages render more than the title. There's just a mass of empty content filling up your head and preventing the soothing bliss of deep sleep from taking your body.

 

Monday

 

You regret not taking the next day off from work. You're absolutely destroyed. Coworkers think it's a hangover, but this is far worse. Your stomach feels like it's tightened up into a small ball from not having anything to eat in over 24 hours, and you hunch over because that's the only it doesn't hurt. There's a dry lump in your throat that demands you drink water to sooth it, but that retaliates with painful jabs each time you swallow. The buzzing is still all around you. Your hearing has improved but there are still moments when you think the world is being filtered to you through a thick fog. Finally, you go home early.

 

You order some food and barely eat a few bites before nausea sets in. You think you'll just spend the rest of the day in bed watching Netflix, except you can barely understand what they're saying. Frustrated, you just lie supine, the only position where your head doesn't pound as much, and stare up at the ceiling.

 

You feel guilty. That, really is the core of it. Harder than the physical come down is the mental anguish, that you did this to yourself: you traded what will be at least 24 hours of physical pain, for such fleeting pleasure. You don't even know how else the drugs may have fucked up your system. Would you be addicted now? What will people think of you for doing such shit? You're frustrated, drained, and deeply in pain.

 

The worst? You were literally begging for it. You think back about the old man calling you a meth whore, and just how trashy you were as you desperately sucked on that glass pipe. You remember how you did hit after hit to try to chase those first few mind-gasms even though you actually never got them back. Your hand unconsciously palms your crotch. You're not even horny and can't even get hard still, but somehow you want to play with it. You vow to never do drugs again, but before you sleep, you'll log back online and add that muscle daddy as a friend.

 

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FINAL NOTE: This is the first draft of a commissioned work (I write hardcore erotica for clients), and yes the Monday experience was part of the request! Anyway, client changed direction so I thought I'd just put it here. Since i's a first draft, please forgive any grammatical or writing errors. As Folsom just happened, I did go through quickly and changed some settings to adapt it. Let me know if you got a load out reading this!

 

 

 

 

 

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Best description of fisting I've ever read. I want your hand inside me because you get it. You understand the seduction, the connection, and the sensory thrill without demanding harder/faster/deeper as the only badges of FF achievement.

That Sunday-afternoon orgasm description is equally impressive. You describe the timing, the sensations, and the distinctive not-entirely-satisfaction in exactly the right way. You pay attention to how things go, and you have a gift for describing them with nuanced sophistication.

Thank you.

Did I get off reading this? No, but that's not the only measure of success, and you know it. Do I want to read more of your work? Absolutely. This story was holistically satisfying in a way few stories in this forum manage. You helped us experience a ride, not just peep a freak show.

Again, thank you. That was worth the time you put into writing it, and you're not the only one who enjoyed the build-up to the marquee scene. The whole thing is good.

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Outstanding writing; I felt I was actually there & experiencing the action firsthand, even though I’ve never been fisted or tried meth.

Thank you though for describing the cum down, and the feelings he had afterwards, which added further credibility to the tale. Despite this the protagonist is clearly taking steps to repeat the experience, providing a cautionary warning of how easy it would be to slip into long term drug addiction.

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