How I Became a Slut Pt. 02

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In 1988, I went blonde aged 30 because several black men had mentioned they preferred fucking blonde white women, especially married blonde white women. My training continued: I was the naked waitress and the Super Bowl half-time cumdump for five black men for two years running (I was tied naked on a bed and during half-time, the five men used me as they liked); I’ve been a very eager black men’s reggae party cumdump several times. Throughout the 1990s I got addicted to black cocks (well, cocks in general, but I have a special attraction to (and obsession with) black cocks) and I made sure I got used a lot because I enjoyed the sexual thrill and the deep satisfaction (and the orgasms) I got from being used.

Finally, because of my slutwife card-carrying status, and after a lot of very subtly-placed hints, I was able to arrange sex with three black men. The black man I worked on thought it was his idea. Well. Wow. That experience was really like nothing else. It was profound. I didn’t know then, but I know now, it’s called being ‘airtight’, which is quite amusing in its way, but for me sex was always serious. I don’t really have fun; I get gratification, satisfaction, orgasms, a connection with myself. I find out who I am, and I love who I am. And the actual fucking makes me very happy. I am fun to be with, but fun’s not my motivation. I always keep it light and entertaining, but I’ve never had sex with men to please the men. I have a deep need that has to be met. Fulfilled. My inner core gets fed.

I got things from that three-man encounter that changed me and have continued changing me. I hate superficiality as a result of being fucked by three men simultaneously. Having a big cock up my cunt, one in my arse and one forcing its way down my throat at the same time was a moment of total revelation and intense self-awareness, let alone what was happening to my greedy and very, very responsive body. There’s a moment that a cock gets pushed into my body that just feels so fantastic. It doesn’t matter if it’s being thrust into my mouth, my cunt, or my anus, that sinop escort specific feeling of insertion drives me absolutely wild! I absolutely love and live for that feeling. If I could have just that over and over and over, that would be incredible. And that’s why they need to be big, by which I mean fat, not necessarily long, although I don’t mind that; I can take a really good length with ease. No, I love fat cocks. Fat ones stretch me out. I love to feel my canal, channel, whatever, spreading as the fat cock is pushed into me. And if it’s done well, by which I mean hard, rough, sudden, almost like a powerful lunge, or a very hard thrust, then I totally lose control, I catch my breath, I hyperventilate, I scream, I babble a load of old bollocks really, I sweat like I don’t know what, which I hate because my hair gets all stringy and goes into rat’s tails.

Then I reach a plateau and I start talking love-talk to my husband as though he’s the only person in the room. It probably would seem weird to anyone observing one of my adventures that I could say some of the most romantic, lovely, loving, meaningful things about my feelings for my husband as two or three or sometimes four men call me every crude and degrading name under the sun as they ram their big cocks into me simultaneously and make me scream, and cry and whimper and grind and throw myself around like a mad thing. But I talk lovingly to my husband at those times. I feel I have to – for me, more than for him. It’s what I need to do while I’m having those things done to me. It keeps me balanced. In tune.

That initial moment of penetration is the one perfect moment. It’s because, at that moment, nothing else matters. Not the past, not the future. Just that moment, that experience, those feelings, that now-ness. And underpinning it all is my deep love for my husband, an amazing man who lets me be totally me, who fully supports me in my lifestyle, protects me, cares for me and loves me for who I am, and who has never judged me for what I am.

And then the men sinop escort bayan come inside me and I orgasm several times and I get lost in the intensity of it all. And then it goes. Fades. The feeling recedes. And the day goes. And the weekend goes. And then the men go. And then I feel empty. Void. A shell of myself. A brittle shell. Less than half a person. That feeling, or that lack of feeling stays with me for a long time.

And so I arranged another adventure and I had three men again. I gave them a list of my ‘requirements’. My instructions were that they did everything on the list during the weekend. I got close, but it was a repeat. So I refined it and added more thrills to my demand list and that worked. By then I’d had two more husbands (I don’t know why, they were useless) but I burned them out very quickly and dropped them by the wayside. Over the next ten years my needs list got longer as I needed more and more experiences to fill my emptiness. Some men thought I was being crude when I said I needed my hole filling. They thought – well, it’s obvious what they thought I meant. But that’s not what I meant – not what I mean at all. I couldn’t always get three men, and I couldn’t always get black men, so I had to be extra-inventive with two men. I did find black men fucked better than white men. Not all black men, of course, but generally, black men fucked me well and had good-sized cocks. It was always hit and miss with white men. Anyway, my demands grew quite perverse, but I enjoyed (and still enjoy) what I put my body through.

I learned so much about myself, my body, my mind, my emotions, my psychology. I learned what really turned me on and what really made me orgasm hard. When I have an intense orgasm, I gush like a waterfall. I’ve splashed a lot of men’s faces. Some men love it when it happens. Some men drink it. I like it when they do.

I really like being whipped hard on my buttocks and thighs and I don’t mind if it’s with a whip, a riding crop, or a belt. A cane is good too. It really stings, but makes escort sinop my pussy tingle and gape open. Years of sex with big cocks has truly stretched my orifices. My cunt gapes open now. It’s not too small any more. Nor is my rectum. I have quite big orifices now. I also like to be handcuffed and anally fucked. I really love it when one man pulls his cock out of me and another man almost immediately pushes his cock inside me. That’s always best if there’s not much of a time gap between the withdrawal and the new insertion. I love being inspected for fuckability, especially if I’m naked and the men inspecting me are dressed. I like the feeling of vulnerability I get – it’s very erotic.

I like being ‘made’ to walk naked into public places. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve walked totally naked into a hotel bar and ordered drinks for my guests and put it on my room bill. Barmen usually make a joke and ask if I’m having a party. I usually answer by saying: “I am the party.” One young barman got very excited and said he really wanted to fuck me. I told him I had two black men in my room and that he was very welcome to join us. I never saw him again. Rough, hard, almost brutal anal sex really does it for me, especially if the man has a fat cock and rams it in. I love being used and humiliated. I don’t mean I like being abused, but I do like being used well.

I like the pretence of being submissive and obedient. Dominant men using me as their fucktoy. That’s what excites me and goes a long way to getting me in a semi-orgasmic state. I am addicted to cocks. Big ones. Fat ones. Thick ones. I am totally addicted to the feeling of big cocks sliding into my orifices. There’s not another feeling that comes close to it. I’ve got so many photos of huge cocks in my arse it almost unbelievable. Thousands. They almost look like the same photo. A huge black cock buried deep in my stretched anus. Another one deep in my cunt. And one forcing its way down my throat. I kept on organising adventures, chasing that increasingly elusive feeling of being stuffed to fullness. I love being ‘airtight’, and I love experiencing the mathematical sum of three-into-one does go. I made sure I got everything I needed from my adventures. I was having three or four adventures a year, with a bit of casual sex with one, usually two men in between the adventures.

To be continued…

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