True Sex Stories: Effective Methods

I wanted–-no needed–-to come at the hands of another. I needed the hands and mouth of a man devouring my cunt, I needed to devour some cock...to just forget the bullshit branch of life for a few hours.

Living stems from two branches. One branch is the people, the art, the words and poetry, and the love we live for. The other branch is the bullshit we must go through to enable us to live for the other–work, bureaucracy, the assholes, traffic–the bullshit.

Well the bullshit side of my tree seems to be bearing an overabundance of shit fruit since the onset of 2011, nothing life crushing– just simple annoying costly bullshit. It's all made me just an angsty bundle of nerves, in which there was only one cure. Cock.

Well, not just cock, but I wanted–no needed– to come at the hands of another. I needed the hands and mouth of a man devouring my cunt, I needed to devour some cock, I needed to just forget the bullshit branch of life for a few hours.

I get into this mood often, but do not always act on it–or at least not as much as I used to, but the feeling was too overwhelming for me to ignore.

There were drinks, there was an incredibly cooked meal–which lead to a whole lot of sucking and fucking. It is not always easy for me to let myself just go, to let someone I've only emailed and briefly met take me, to pass the threshold of letting go. To give over to orgasm at the hands of a stranger is not always something I can do. However; I came in with little expectations, just simply that if I felt a comfort enough to fuck this man I was going to do just that. I would let myself have this, let myself go, be free to cum at the hands of this man who means nothing to me other than the flesh, fingers and mouth that was going to make me come and I would reciprocate and treat his cock like it was the cock I really loved.

While rolling around this mans room, I could not help thinking about the men I actually have emotional connection to–while I attempt to make a connection with this guy, I am fully aware we are nothing but disconnected. I have to be disconnected to have sex like this and to allow myself to cum, and cum, and cum with a man I have no feeling for.

The sex was fun! I allowed myself have fun. I let him suck and lick my wet little pussy, his fingers filling and fucking me, I became lost as I bucked into his hand. As his fingers fucked me harder I could feel it happening, the creamy liquid dripping around his hand, into the crevices of my pussy and in between my ass cheeks. He certainly held some effective methods to make me cum, which I did all over his bed. I am not really squirter, really I'm not, at least not usually, especially with a near completely stranger.

That sort of cum makes me want to cry, it is a release of so much–particularly with the weeks I have been having. I wanted to cry, but I didn't– I held back. It would have felt good, but the connection for such behavior was not there. I turned on my own emotion and became a slut, a whore. I devoured his cock with my mouth and with my pussy-I licked and swallowed his dick after he buried in my slit, tasting me off of him. I made him rock hard, bouncing on his cock like crazy, I let my emotion get stifled by cock.

His cock was fun to service though. Never before have I had the request to bite down.
"Bite? Really?"
" Yes, bite," he pleaded with a growl.
He liked to have his cock bitten. It was strange, but then I got into it. It definitely felt like I was biting into a sausage with a real tough skin, but hot damn it sure did make his cock solid and left me free to grasp and grab him with all my might, which I did. I like a dick I can grab onto firmly as edge him closer and closer to cumming. My mouth and hands slid all over his solid trunk, I filled my mouth with his balls, I let him feed me his cock, to choke me a little, to let my eyes water.  I sucked him off like the pro I can be.

We had a nice long romp, I informed him early on– I would need to cum three times before he did. I came four times. Throughout the romp I brought this man close to cumming several times, then backed off. Repeat. Being spent from all that orgasm release, laying to his side, I slid his cock into my mouth one last time–bringing him from soft to hard–it was time. I would not ride his cock again, I cannot be filled with cum and all of its potentiality so I wanted to stroke and suck him until I could watch his cum hit me in the face and onto my waiting tongue.

Perhaps it was all the edging, bringing him so close, but not ever over, that made his cum shoot straight past my eager slut tongue up to his chest, across his shoulder and to pillow behind his head.

With the cum splatter, it was all over. Dipping my finger into a little pool of cum, I tasted him, then rose to dress. As I walked down his stairway towards my car, I never looked back. I felt like a hooker that didn't get paid. Disconnected.

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.