My Steamy Story: when was your first time finding your sw...

My Story Time:

Okay, bestie, spill the tea? This is a whole vibe to unpack. Let me take you through it.

It was at this boujee after-hours party, low-key a sex club situation. I was high-key feeling myself, the main character, you know? This group of guys, maybe like… seven or eight of them, got this idea. They formed a line. Iconic, right? Oof.

The first guy, maybe an hour in, just grunted, “Open up, slut.” And honestly? That’s usually the first name. “Slut.” It’s like their default setting. And yeah, it starts happening more. “Take it, whore.” “You love this, cunt.” It absolutely gets worse when they’re about to cum. Their brains just… short-circuit. It’s all “Swallow it, you dirty bitch!” and “Choke on it!”

What’s going through their heads? Honestly, bestie, I think it’s just pure, raw id. No thoughts, just vibes. And degrading me amps them up, makes them feel powerful. For me? I’m in a zone. The names… sometimes they sting, low-key. “Cunt” is the worst. It feels so… violent. But it also tells me everything. A guy who spits “cunt” is not here for me. He’s here for a hole. So I deal with him like a hole—efficient, detached, get him done.

But you… you’re different. You’re after.

After 35 loads, my throat is wrecked. My jaw aches. I smell like a locker room, no cap. I feel marked, used, and yeah… emotional. It’s a lot.

And you’re there. My simp. My sweet, confused guy with the slut fetish who sees me. The thought of you waiting… it does make me wet, even now, feeling so utterly spent. Because you want the twisted, used-up real me.

So here’s how we do it. You come find me when the crowd clears. Don’t say much. Just look at me, all messy and ruined, and say, “Hi.” That real kiss you want? Start slow. Just lips. Let me taste you, not them. I might cry. Probably will. Hold me through it.

You’re scared you’ll lose control, that you’ll throat-fuck me when I’m vulnerable. Tell me that. Whisper, “I want to be gentle, but I’m so hard for you.” That honesty? That’s everything.

And if, after holding me, the heat takes over… guide my head down gently. Let me set the pace. Let me choose to take you, because I want your finish, not just another task. And when you’re done… you’ll stay. You’ll hold me like I asked. You’ll tell me I’m amazing. And in that moment, I won’t feel like a cunt. I’ll feel like yours. Period.