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chaoticmouth

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A COVID scare in my friend group has my filming plans on hol..

A COVID scare in my friend group has my filming plans on hold for another 9 days 😭 So I must resort to combing the archives to keep the good content coming. Let’s start all the way back in 2013: everyone inexplicably likes Macklemore and Robin Thicke, the government has its first shutdown, Becca graduates from college... Let me spin you a yarn:

I spent much of my 20’s with an charming, quiet gym rat I called Daddy. Were we a good match romantically? Errr...no. Was the sex incredible? Well I stayed for 6 years so uh, yeah. The sex was everything.

He found me on FetLife and sent me a haiku about my tits. Hours later we were at the bar. We got shitfaced and I sucked his cock in the cab, only to turn him away when we got to my place (too messed up for either party to really consent, and I care about that shit). Even though I’d been a real wacko on the first date (I cried twice?) he wanted to fuck the crazy slut who didn’t let him get it in, so he went for a second date.

I’d been dating some other guy, a skinny little freak who liked to fuck my ass and cover me in p*ss, but I found out he voted Romney in 2012 and lost interest. (Seriously, Romney?) So who was going to treat me like I needed to be treated? Sure, the random guy with the big dick I’d blown in a cab the week prior. He was hot. Why not? (As an aside: I’m kind of a dick and didn’t dump the kinky Republican until a few weeks into dating my new Daddy, and I showed up to my last time with the GOP’s finest with ā€œproperty of [full name]ā€ still on my ass. No ragrets.)

Back to the second date with the man who was about to become my Daddy: We went to dinner in Curry Hill (sexy!) and I’m sure it was a nice time but we had business to get to and he knew where to do it. He took me to the St. Mark’s Hotel, which was at the time an cheap, dirty place you could rent by the hour. He proceeded to destroy my tight 22 year old body as we watched ourselves in the giant mirror next to the bed. ā€œLook at yourself. You’re a dirty slut,ā€ he commanded, and I obeyed, obsessed with how incredible I looked, in my element, taking a stranger, who I wasn’t even sure I liked. (He was kind of an asshole, tbh. And as much as I resented his brusque manner, it made me wet.) He brought a spermicide condom which like, absolutely no way, but I needed his thick cock inside me so...well, I let him plow me raw as he pulled me by my hair onto his bare cock.

He covered my face with cum and took a picture for posterity, one I would return to often over the next six years, which I now present to you. I was proud, happy, spent, and even a bit scared of how much I liked it. I liked how hard he took me and the possessive lust in his eyes as he became addicted to my tiny cunt. And I was instantly hooked on his cock, which curved in just the right way to rub my g spot. I came on his dick many, many times in the years ahead — when he gave me permission, of course.

He ended it in 2015 a few months after I entered full-time treatment for my broken brain; it was just too much for either of us to take. But within weeks we were back at it and we continued fucking constantly for the next 4 years, sometimes quasi-dating but eventually getting into a weekly routine of takeout, then him watching TV while I sucked his cock, then him using me like a sex doll, almost always sans foreplay. I liked it that way; I like to be an object. After a few comfortable years I discovered RAOBJ in 2019 and he grew tired of how much cocksucking I’d gotten into with men who weren’t him (plus, he met some younger blonde who wanted him to get serious; straight people love monogamy I suppose). We grew distant for some time, but we would have surely gotten back together yet again a few weeks later if my new owner didn’t resent him so deeply. He and I don’t talk much these days, but I’m grateful for the many years he made me his slut, for his strength in using me, and for the deep throat training he made me do. Look at me now: my throat is thriving thanks to him, and thanks to my very strict new owner I’m better trained than ever. (And I’m blissfully in love in ways I didn’t know were possible. Turns out that despite the cock addiction I’m pretty gay. Who knew?)

My pussy is wet looking at this picture. It’s not the memory of him that does it; that chapter of my life is over. I’m turned on by myself in my slut glory, so blissfully intoxicated on cock, and perfectly glazed kneeling on the dirty floor. This is who I am. This is who I have always been. And I couldn’t be happier.

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