Autofellatio Lifestyle Pt 04

I had just returned home from spending a long Christmas break with my family in north Florida. The weather had been unseasonably warm all week and I had spent most of the holiday week in shorts, as did all the hot college women living around my parents neighborhood. Watching all those hot girls around the community pool on a daily basis had gotten me insanely aroused all week with no way to relieve my growing sexual anxiety. During the endless family gatherings all I could think about was sexual and masturbatory-related fantasies I desperately needed to work out.

On several occasions I had the opportunity to get away for a few precious minutes to the bathroom, or up in our walk-in attic to get a few quick strokes in to pacify my needy penis for a few moments. I always felt rushed or paranoid though, and just couldn't relax to make myself cum, so I was never able to bring myself to orgasm before being interrupted or just getting too nervous to go till completion.

I normally live and work alone in a two bedroom apartment near my local college campus. When I'm at home there I to masturbate to orgasm regularly every day, not really because I have to, but because it's the fastest, most effective way to relax and clear my brain. I've tried running and various other forms of exercise, but nothing really works quite as effectively as pleasuring my stiff erection for hours on end. Due to my living conditions and flexible work schedule, carving out a long daily masturbation routine is easier for me than I imagine it would be for most people. My stress level tends to spike from day to day, depending on my work-load, various deadlines, the amount of sleep I get, or the amount of quality masturbation time I set aside for myself.

For a long time I found myself dressing and undressing before and after my frequent, daily masturbation sessions. After months of this I started questioning the necessity for all the clothing changes, often changing clothes three or four times a day and assigning items worn only two or three hours as "dirty", needlessly running up my number of laundry loads. Eventually I just stopped dressing all together and work completely naked at my work PC every day between edging sessions, occasionally wearing only a bathrobe and a pair of socks when it got cold.

Constant nakedness tends to raise my level of sexual arousal though. Staying naked for 6 or 7 days straight sometimes promotes the opportunity to touch my genitals a lot more often. Having instant pleasure available at a moments notice is a bit difficult to pass up for me and the constant view and smell of my ever-whispering cock is often an irresistible trigger to divert my attention to masturbatory activities. I regularly find myself absent-mindedly pinching and kneeding my limp or semi-erect penis between my fingers while I'm typing, watching television, talking on the phone, or even eating a meal. At night its not unusual that I'll wake up gripping a rock-hard erection. I do the best with this that I can though and I'm willing to tolerate the regular distraction rather than deal with the hassle of clothing and laundry all the time.

The longer I edge, the more I feel completely enslaved to the ritual of sustained self-pleasure. God, I seem to need to keep an erection working all the time and it feels so good when I do. My cock is always demanding more attention and takes everything I give it, always wanting more every day. I can really work it good and hard when I'm cranked up and surrender myself and abandon all my resistance to the demands of my horny flesh for as long as it wants. Some days my mindset is completely focused on pleasure and sexual gratification and I hopelessly keep a steady erection going to the point of physical and mental exhaustion before any hope for a mental reset kicks in.

I usually work out my marathon sessions spread wide in my large beanbag chair in front of a 36" monitor that I have mounted on the wall of an 8x4 foot masturbation closet that I created for my long, isolated stroke sessions. From there a dedicated porn PC with speakers on the top shelf displays the most delicious HD female masturbation and sex videos known to man. A long-cabled mouse runs down to the floor and an on-screen keyboard eliminates the clutter any other peripherals. Nothing feels better or relaxes me than spreading my legs out nice and wide and throwing my head back as I methodically work my greasy eight inch shaft with determined conviction as I watch hours of juicy, red hot porn.

When I get really hot and sweaty I start to smell my sex rising into the air. It's strong, pungent and arousing, especially in the enclosure of my darkened stroking closet. Once I'm worked up and coated in a film of sweat I like to drag my finger across the moist tendon between the edge of my sack and where my upper thighs intersects my pelvis, then lick the salty excretion to experience the flavor of my personal body chemistry, diffusing the flavor of my sweaty crotch throughout my mouth. It tastes like me, the perfect intimate foreplay for a session of self-sex. My essence spreads throughout my nose and mouth as I sample the salty discharge.

The hormone-laden aroma from my sweat glands around my damp crotch always puts me into a super horny mood and I gyrate and pump my pelvis to meet the caresses of my massaging fingers and hand. I fantasize about sucking the sweet glistening sweat from the bulging extensor muscles that rise from my inner thighs as I spread my legs wide. I moan in delirious ecstasy and make passionate love to my aching flesh, often with both hands, ignoring the gooey stringy mess that spreads out around me. I briefly devolve into a base creature of carnal lust and writhe and moan, drunk with dizzying self-lust as I work my cock hard into the long evenings.

When I returned home after Christmas my need for sexual relief became almost painful, to the point I was insane with the need to devour and consume my own horny flesh until it relinquished its warm, soothing gifts from the tip of my aroused flesh. After a week of almost total abstinence all I could think of was how badly I needed my cock returned to its usual state, in my mouth, my hands, or probing the interior of my stroke toys. My mouth began to water at the thought of tasting myself again as if my cock were a fondly missed lover and I smacked my lips trying to recall it's taste in my memory.

On the long car ride home I began to sometimes shove my fingers down into my sweatpants, down the edges of my warm, sweaty inner thighs to sample how strong my personal flavor was becoming as I drove. It smelled so incredibly good and inviting down there and I began mentally promising my cock how good it was going to get it as soon as we reached our sanctuary. I wiped the damp film across my top lip to sample it's flavor, desperate to taste and lick it from my body again as soon as possible. As I drove I would lick my lips with my tongue to get a taste of the dried fluids I had placed there and fantasize about all the spots around my smoothly shaved genitals I wanted to suck clean.

The more I fantasized, the more difficult it became to resist stimulating myself and I began counting the slowly passing mile markers in painful anticipation. My cock stiffened in my sweats and I pinched and massaged it constantly from the outside, fighting the urge to pull it out and just go at it as I drove. Before leaving Florida I purposefully shed my underwear for the road trip so I could drive commando, just in case the urge to masturbate became too overwhelming. I often masturbate for hours on long road trips and honestly didn't know if I would be able to make it home before having a session on the highway along the way. On this occasion I intentionally dressed in sweat pants, knowing they would retain a lot of crotch heat and sweat, especially with a lack of underwear to keep me dry down there. I felt like such a pervert, but my need for personal fulfillment was starting to override all other considerations, even the personal comfort of shorts.

As I drove and planned all the delicious debauchery I was going to perform on my body I could feel precum oozing from the tip of my expanding and contracting glans as it responded to my growing level of arousal. Several dark, sticky wet spots formed on the outside of my sweat pants and I took to fingering the leaky fluid from my glans and licking the sweet fluid across the top of my tongue, which only made the prolonged agony greater. I knew that if I started masturbating while I drove I wouldn't have the willpower to stop myself until I came, resulting in a frustrating and hurried interstate orgasm, squeezed in between the brief intervals of passing semi trucks. That wasn't the way I wanted to break my nine day dry streak.

When I finally got back into town my willpower had obliterated. Over the last hour of driving my thoughts were completely consumed with fantasies of intercourse and fellatio. About 30 miles from the city limits I broke down and pulled my erection out and started squeezing and tugging it softly. I pulled my sweat pants halfway down to my knees for complete access and after getting a few good rhythmical strokes going the tension of the last week really started to subside. The smell of my stale, sweaty penis had quickly filled the car as I repeatedly retracted and peeled back my partial foreskin with every down-stroke.

My most potent sexual odors always seem to collect just below the corona of my glans and release into the air when exposed, signaling my brain of impending sexual activity. The sharp, yeasty aroma excited my senses as I pumped my stiff shaft from the base, causing my glans to bulge and darken as blood ebbed and flowed though my hardened member in my lap. My eyes narrowed in blessed relief though, as if I were drunk from arousal and relief as I drove the last few blocks to my apartment. I took long, deep breaths, then released them, enjoying the sudden onset of physical relaxation. I was so ready to get into it and had planned every step of the next impending ten minutes to avoid any slightest delay.

Once inside I didn't even unpack my travel bags, dropping them just inside the doorway. I locked the door, and made a bee-line to my bedroom, stripping off clothing as I walked. I quickly turned the power of my various electronic devices on, then assembled my stroking supplies, lube, towels, an anal vibrator (if I decided to add it into the session), and a bottle of cold water for a long evening of hardcore cock work. I ran through some quick stretching exercises, then entered my private closet and turned on my porn PC and slumped deep into my beanbag. I threw my legs over my head, placed my bare feet on the dirty wall behind my head and stretched out a little more as I adjusted my shoulders beneath me.

My stiff, raging erection hung slightly above and in front of my face, bobbing invitingly an inch from my mouth and nose. At close proximity I could really smell my own sweaty pheromones between my legs easily now, concentrated and radiating from where my thighs meet my crotch and genitals. The multi-hour drive from Florida had gotten me really hot and sweaty as I had hoped and I was eager to take full advantage of my condition. My shaved sack and sourrounding scrotal area glistened with sweat that leached from my most intimate pores. I really could have used a shower, but the aroma of hours of built up, warm sweat without the assistance of absorptive cotton underwear had created a potent personal aphrodisiac sending my hunger for personal bodily communion into overdrive. I smelled so sexual and raw and wanted to lick and taste every inch of my smooth skin there.

Bubbly precum formed and glistened at the tip of my glans and had been steadily making a snail-trail down the underside of my red swollen shaft as my cock bounced and stared at me from above, inviting me to lick it clean. I was so horny and aroused I could literally feel the warmth radiating from it's surface on my cheeks in anticipation for what was coming next. I gave it a few short tugs from the base and my heart beat wildly in my chest as my breathing quickened and deepened. My mouth watered in anticipation and I moisten my lips as I finally settled into a comfortable position and slowly began to walk my erection towards towards my lips, pressing the warm glans at last to my face and finally into my warm mouth.

I quickly sucked at the fleshy intrusion, ignoring my usual foreplay routine as my glans slipped past my mips and just inside my mouth. I anchored it lightly with my teeth just behind the mushrooming corona and was instantly rewarded with a little burst of pleasure from the exquisite stimulation. I slowly angled my face upwards slightly and ran my tongue across the underside of my shaft several times, collecting the salty-sweet precum trail that had accumulated and withdrew each sample back into my mouth to enjoy. The sensation of my raspy warm tongue massaging my grateful penis washed over me just as the salty and inflamed glans pushed further into the wet oral cavity, sliding across my tongue as I pulled it inside.

I moaned softly from the exquisite ecstasy and took several long, deep relaxing breaths as two full inches of shaft slid past the gentle grip of my lips. My tongue rolled slowly in circles around the stiffening glans, methodically extracted the salty flavor of my long day from beneath the pockets of soft foreskin that wrapped around the lower half of my reddened glans. The familiar, unadulterated tastes and smells of my body diffused throughout my oral cavity as I lovingly bathed my warm erection in stringy saliva that had been quickly filling my mouth. I forced the shaft deeper into my mouth as I contracted my body to facilitate its entry. The pleasure was so unbelievable and desperately needed and I reminded myself I could do this for as long as I wanted tonight, never concerning myself with how long a lover might continue orally pleasuring me, or whether their jaws would tire out, or if they would gag from going too deep, or would eventually take my orgasm in their mouth. I could suck it for as long as it wanted and as long as my body would tolerate. If I gagged, and I most certainly knew that I would that night, then I would work through it unabated, and I knew without a doubt exactly where the inevitable happy ending would end up. The night was all about my sweet penis and it's pleasure.

I withdrew my cock with a loud, dripping slurp and stretched out briefly, then grabbed my buttocks and pulled them tighter and closer towards my face as I reentered, forcing another inch of warm shaft deeper into its submissive oral nest. I held the position firmly in place for nearly a full minute as I relaxed my lower back muscles and steadied my breathing through my nose. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sensual communion of complete sexual connection with my body. Reluctantly I gradually came up for air with another noisy slurp of saliva, resulting in a stream of thick saliva spilling over the front of my mouth and pooling onto my chest. A wave of ragged and labored breathing consumed me as I caught my breath and my legs trembled sporadically with pleasure.

As my breathing slowed I opened wide and took my erection deep again, almost in slow motion this time. I began pumping, tugging and rocking back and forth, making loud smacking sounds within my mouth as I used my feet to guide my gyrations. I made short choppy thrusts towards my face as I mouth-fucked my eager lips. It felt so intense and nice, yet obscenely naughty and taboo at the same time as I shamelessly deep-throated and fellated my horny flesh. I had needed this so badly for days and struggled to maintain eye contact with my genitals as my eyes reddened and narrowed and closed at times as I mentally withdrew into my own private world of sex. I watched myself in the mirror I had mounted beneath the upper closet shelf above me. My glazed expression was passive, with a blank vacant 1000 yard stare in my eyes that I could clearly see between my thrusting knees. My erect, wet shaft rose and pumped repeatedly into my widened mouth as I submissively allowed my body to have its way with me and beads of sweat had begun to form all over my reddening face.

My body seemingly had a will of its own as I relinquished control to the invisible forces of sustained physical pleasure. I had become both sexually aggressive and passive recipient as my body fucked my mouth. I relaxed the tension in my face, allowing my body to fuck and abuse it at its own pace as I lay still and took it. The awareness of my environment around me began to fade as I drew into my own private thoughts and the steady background hum and glow of lights computers, and servers in my apartment gradually faded from

awareness. As muscle memory assumed control of my bodily actions my mind drifted, remembering how the nights' activity compared to lovers I had slept with in the past, and enjoying the waves of pleasure that were coursing through my core now. The only thing that existed in the world was my stiffened penis, drilling in and out of my mouth, holding my body hostage to a cycle of intense, rhythmical pleasure.

My eyes rolled back in my head from the exquisite response within my central nervous system that continually fired pleasure in my brain and body and I knew I sensed I had found the optimal comfort zone as I began losing large blocks of time and skipping in and out of the awareness. The evening sun sank and died quite abruptly, darkening my apartment in what seemed like moments as I turned to a mindless machine of self-gratification. Sucking my own cock felt so incredible and sensual with every thrust and I alternated between fucking and making slow, passionate love to my warm flesh. My mouth was desperate to pleasure and pamper my inflamed organ and I fed it generously, and took it hungrily, pursing my lips outward in an effort to envelope as much of my flesh as possible and moaning longingly from such great sex. Waves of pleasure rewarded me with every movement of my tongue as it darted and circled and caressed the warm intruder. I peeled back my foreskin with my tongue and began to caress the sensitive glans and corona beneath it. I made noisy, obscene, slurping sounds as I rocked and thrust rhythmically to facilitate sexual congress with my body.

"Oh God, this feels soooo incredibly good", I whispered to myself, wanting the experience to last forever. I found a particularly sensitive spot that sent shivers through my core every time I drew my tongue across the area, just below the coronal edge, on the top side of my glans and began working it over and over with the side of my tongue.

"Mmmmm, Yes!, Right there, that's the spot", I said to myself. "Right there, right fucking there, oh my God! that's so fucking good, right.....fucking........there......ughhh!"

A wave of involuntary shivering overcame my entire body, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms and thighs, but I willed myself to keep the stimulation going at the sweet spot. Only I was going to be able to find this extremely sensitive spot just beneath the corona and work it with the perfectly rhythm and suction. It was the ultimate instantaneous feedback that a lover could never learn. I moaned and whimpered shamelessly like a girl as I left and returned to the sweet spot and worked it over and over, until the threat of imminent climax forced me to back down. My legs and arms violently shook as sensory overload wracked my body.

My body really began to warm up and sweat from my activity after about 45 minutes. The more I continued to sweat and excrete my personal sex hormones from my pores, the more excited I got as I breathed it through my nose. I smelled sharp and pungent and so very familiar and comforting. I wanted to run my tongue around my scrotum and collect all the delicious sweaty discharge, but was frustrated at my lack of ability to reach that far. Instead I consumed my stiff rod even more hungrily as rills of saliva and precum dripped and drooled down my face and neck. I reached up to catch a slower stream of the thick goo as it dripped towards my mouth and wiped it all over my cheeks and upper lip, slurping the last of it from my fingers, then continued consuming dick with a satisfying grunt.