Descent

[trialrun]

For those who enjoyed reading my this, let me know what themes/plot points/moments you liked!

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Maybe I’m a coward with a sick and twisted mind. Who cares honestly. My mind is drifting in and out of consciousness, bouncing between the immense pleasure pulsing from my hole and the drug-fueled haze of the past. This stranger is pounding away at my hole, intent on dumping another load up my used cunt. At 39, I’m finally living a life that makes me feel whole: spending most of my waking hours working out and getting fucked. It’s taken me years to admit that my fulfilling life doesn’t involve fighting the good fight. I chased after degrees, titles, and projects that would signal an accomplished life. But deep down, I felt trapped by the mundaneness of routine and rules. It took me a while to admit that I’m selfish and the only things I care about are cocks and cum. I’m vain. I love having a muscular body to seduce other men. I love flexing my butt or stretching my arms to reveal my toned abs. Despite being a tenured professor at one point, I’m actually a dumb faggot deep down. 

Arghhhhhhh, the guy fucking me moaned. He thrust in me hard one last time before pulling out only to be replaced by another guy. I didn’t know what they looked like because I was blindfolded. I could see faint lines of light, but everything was hazy. My body was humming from the Molly, weed, shrooms, and poppers. As the new guy found his rhythm, my mind began drifting again, almost as if the rhythmic fucking was the key to start my walk down memory lane.

I met Tom when I was 29 and in my second-to-last year of grad school. The sustained stress of a PhD program unearthed and magnified my childhood traumas and fear of abandonment. I wanted a safe, stable relationship that could help me heal from my past. But I also knew that was the trauma talking. The thought of “wanting safety” had become an overbearing bodyguard, one that stood firm between me and the greater unknown. But also one that had backed me into a small corner. Of course, I didn’t have this clarity back then. Meeting Tom at the height of my life stress made me cling on to safety more than anything. And Tom was and still is the sweetest, most loving man I have ever met. He received all wounds with open arms. Supported me through the rest of grad school, encouraging me every time I wanted to quit or panicked because I felt inadequate. He was beautiful inside and out. Tom has these rich brown eyes that matched his skin tone. Those brown eyes gave such sweet, loving gazes. His nose and jaw were sharp and masculine. But his lips were large and soft, so delicate. And his cock. Oh god. That’s what really drew me to him when we first met. When he sent me dick pics over Grindr, I knew I was going to have fun. It tasted and felt even better in person.  So thick. 6.5”. Husband dick. Or so I thought at the time. He came over. Fucked me. We cuddled, and the rest was history. 

Those first few months were magical. I thought I had found my sexual match. He quickly learned that I love having my nipples played with. Tom was always down to breed me. He could go multiple times, sometimes even staying hard after cumming and could go again (slowly at first). One time I got curious and asked him what the most times he’s cum with someone in one session. Eight times. It was with he ex, Kyle. He met Kyle over Grindr and was going to be one of two guys to fuck Kyle. The other guy passes out after dumping two loads into Kyle, and Tom ended up staying up through the night fucking Kyle. No drugs either. He said Kyle’s hole was magical. He could slide in without lube and just start fucking. He said Kyle’s hole made his cock twitch and tingle in ways he had never felt. And Kyle had this chaotic energy to him that made the encounter so fun. Tom’s eyes were elsewhere as he was telling me. His cock was rock hard, leaking, as he recounted how amazing Kyle’s hole felt. Tom said it was a bad breakup, but he would love to fuck Kyle again. Of course I freaked out hearing that. Christian trauma and abandonment fears were like the angel and devil on my shoulders, except both were telling me in unison to freak out. So I did. And Kyle became a sore spot in our relationship. 

A couple years into the relationship, Kyle had reached out to reconnect. Tom and I talked it over and I said it would be ok as long as Tom sets boundaries. They met up and talked for 3 hours. Didn’t do anything. And I trust Tom (we were still living in different cities). He told me about everything after and assured me nothing has changed for him. Little did he know, I impaled myself on my largest dildo and came time. I was horny by the fear and jealousy of losing him to Kyle, of him wanting Kyle more than me. And the thought of that made me fuck myself again. I wanted some loads real bad. Went on sniffies and got some guys by campus to come fuck me. I sniffed so much poppers that I went blind for a few seconds. I felt a high so exhilarating that I never wanted to come down. Alas, I came down and came. Got a load and had tuckered myself out. A few weeks go by and Tom says that he still has complex feelings for Kyle. They hung out again and Tom said he felt this pull towards Kyle. I freaked out. I told him I found this hot, but also that I don’t have the bandwidth to navigate this right now. He agreed and paused reconnecting with Kyle. Such a loving man. 

Sniff, someone said as they held a bottle to my nose. I sniffed hard as someone played with my nipples. He hovered over them gently and it felt so good that I squirted through my cage. Sniff! My body began to fade into the past again as the poppers began to swirl through my lungs. 

Four years later, things were starting to feel stable. I was done with grad school and finishing up my third year of my tenure track. Tom and I had been living together for about three and a half years. We moved in together right after I graduated. The first year was tough. It took us a while to calibrate to each other’s idiosyncrasies, but with enough time and patience, anything is doable. Our home was like a well oiled machine. We had also done a lot of couple’s therapy by this point. I was able to confront my abandonment fears, and Tom showed that he wanted to spend his life with me. We opened up our relationship and it was great. Well it was great and confusing. Tom fucked so often. So did I. But just not each other. Tom wanted to, but I just wanted to be ravaged by men. It was about quantity. I felt a rush when men lust after my body and hole. I should have known that I never truly dealt with my emotional trauma. It had simply transformed from fear to a need to be desired. External validation was my new dopamine. Being loved by one amazing man wasn’t enough anymore. I needed more. 

I remember it was around the one year mark after we opened that I grew restless. The overnight or weekend cum dump sessions weren’t enough for me anymore. I was growing tired of the balancing act I was doing. Coordinating my life with work and Tom meant I could never really act on my sluttiness on a whim. Everything had to be scheduled, meaning being a faggot had to be scheduled. But I had worked so hard for this life. Worked so hard to build my relationship with Tom. But my hole by this point had a mind of its own. It would rumble and vibrate telling me it was hungry. Sometimes I swore it would send my mind visions of the type of cock it was craving. Then I would need to hunt for this cock. But I could never stay out for too long, so my hole was never satisfied. Weekend motel sessions became the highlight of my month. 

Fall 2023. My foggy brain can’t pinpoint the month, but I know for a fact it was autumn 2023. Tom was gone for 3 weeks between seeing family and for work. I prepped for a week long cumdump session at my favorite motel. I set my out of office emails and notices, put up ads on all my fav sites, got drugs, and went to the motel. I had an abundance mindset. I wanted everything and nothing was too much. I was high on molly and weed. Four or five guys had fucked me by this point. My hole was humming. I was so happy. I was playing with my hole and nipples. Switching back and forth with one hand and scrolling on my phone with the other. He walked in. My eyes and lips went soft and numb. I couldn’t believe the god in front of me. He looked like if an Abercrombie model grew up to work as a mechanic who still worked out. Muscular but daddy. His shirt clung to his muscles. He was tall and hairy. His face looked serious. I wanted him with all my being. I perked up and slowly crawled to him, from the bed to the carpet. He looked down at me and didn’t say anything. He inspected my eyes carefully and then pulled out a pipe. He told me to standup and suck it. 

I stood up faster than you can blink. I never wanted anything more in my life than to have sex with this man. I mean that. I loved Tom, but this wasn’t about love. It’s about desire. And I have never desired another man more than him. I projected all my dom fantasies into this man the second he told me to smoke from his pipe. Not a question but an order. A fantasy I had replayed in my head a thousand times. I saw myself being owned and trained to be a nasty cumdump. Daddy’s sex slave. Daddy’s cash cow. Daddy’s faggot. I was leaking possibilities. So I looked at him with big puppy eyes and inhaled as he lit up that pipe. And he kept the fire going. And just when I thought I couldn’t anymore, he stopped and told me to hold. He sat slowly down in the bed and undid his pants. Told me to exhale on his cock. I did just that. Nothing more. I just hovered over his cock never stopping eye contact. I wanted to show him that I’m a good faggot. This was my audition. I wanted to show him how I’m a good faggot so I quickly darted my eyes to the pipe and then back to him. He didn’t budge. I was so horny. I want him to fuck me up. I wanted to get fucked up. So I said please can I have more? He lit the pipe. I inhaled and exhaled. More, he said. So I took rapid fire hits. My body was humming and my eyes felt like they were going to roll around the sockets. I wanted his cock so badly. I begged. Please can I have your cock? Please I need your cock. My hole was screaming at me to get on his cock. My head and hole were fighting! 

[serviceunityyc]

Preach.

[wondering]

Awesome start!  More please!