I didn't think I'd continue with my story, but a few things have happened lately that made me reconsider. My extreme behavioral and personality changes are something I'm still trying to understand. I've gone from a meek, naïve little creature who thought sex was just something that made you have to clean-up afterward, to someone who will try almost anything - and can't seem to get enough cock. See how I talk now? Previously, I didn't use words like cock, fuck, etc. Now, I think about it most of the time. Randy is the one mostly responsible for this drastic change in me. Whether I love him or not, I don't know, but I just can't seem to get enough of his wonderful cock.
One of the questions you might ask, did I leave my husband? Yes, I did. I've been with Randy for two months now, following him to NY after he enticed me into leaving my husband of six years. I just left a note saying I'd met someone, and that Stu shouldn't try to find me. I didn't even have the guts to do it face-to-face. So call me names, I'm sure you will. I deserve it. My family is so pissed they won't talk to me, and all my old friends think I'm nuts, leaving a good-looking guy like Stu for a big sloppy cook like Randy. Maybe I am crazy, but sex with Stu was like eating a dirt sandwich, and him being the only man I'd ever slept with I never even knew what I was missing. Randy came along with that Pakistani Dust stuff he put in my drink one evening before he commenced fucking me like an animal all night. After I'd had a taste of it though, I'd gone back for more. (Awakenings 1-3). I was never the same after that. I speak of what happened in my earlier stories.
Randy and I fuck two, three times a day - everyday! I'll walk into the room totally unaware, and suddenly I'm jerked around, shoved facedown over the back of a couch or chair, and his big cock is slamming into me before I'm even ready. It makes little difference to Randy which hole he enters - well, to either of us I suppose. Sometimes, he'll just walk up to me while I'm reading or watching TV, pull his cock out, wrap his hands in my hair and shove it down my throat so far I can feel pubic hair against my lips. I revel in his brutality, the anxiety of possible suffocation, the way he shudders when he climaxes, and most of all the bitter-salty taste of it spurting against the inside of my mouth. I love it all. I know. I'm a slut, okay?
I don't know if Randy is a sex addict or just over-sexed, but he told me he's been this way for as long as he can remember. He said that even at an early age, he'd jerk-off a dozen times a day. He admitted he still does sometimes. Anyway, my libido is totally in control of me these days and yes, I've already cheated on Randy. It wasn't my fault though.
Randy's day off is Thursday, so we usually wait to use that "dust" stuff until Wednesday night. That way we'll have a day to recover before he returns to work on Friday. Believe me, we need it too. After five or six orgasms, we are sore, fatigued, and totally exhausted for at least 24 hours. The rest of the week, we fuck without using Randy's dust. Even at that, we're still doing it every night. When there are conferences in town Randy has to work late, getting up before dawn several days in a row. During those days, we abstain from rigorous sex.
Being accustomed to regular sex almost daily, by the second or third day of doing without it, I'm climbing the walls. I practically attack him when he comes home on that last day. A couple weeks ago, he had to return to Washington, D.C. (the same place we just left) for a week-long cooking class. That's when I did it. Fucked someone else, I mean. He knows about it now and still loved me, so life continued for us as before. I was scared to death for a while, though. I think he may also have cheated with someone while he was gone, and maybe felt a little guilty because of it. Anyway, all is fine now. By the way, I got on his computer one day and saw he reads stories on this site! He loves 'em!
There's a park with a lake, near our condo. Randy and I walk there sometimes and I jog around the lake during the days Randy works. We were walking and feeding the ducks one evening and I noticed a group of men near one of the bathrooms. I commented about it and Randy said if I needed to use the potty, to use one on the other side of the lake, nearer to the main road. He said these men were just a bunch of perverts. He went on to explain about glory-holes and all that, which I found really weird - but kind of exciting, too. He admitted that he'd frequently gone to glory holes when he was younger, but quit visiting them because he'd been scared of getting a disease.
The next day, I researched glory holes on the computer - and boy was I stunned! The first thing I saw was a pretty blond with a black penis about the size of Randy's, stuck down her throat. She looked as if she were loving it. I'd never seen a black penis before. There were dozens of them on that site, others too. I got so excited I jumped Randy's bones as soon as he walked in that evening!
Well, about the third or fourth day he was gone to that cooking class in D.C., I was already climbing the walls I wanted it so badly. The vibrator he bought for us didn't do a thing to relieve my frustrations, so I jogged mornings and afternoons. That didn't help much either. I was up to three miles on my regular jog around the lake when I had the urge to pee really bad. The only people in sight were two Hispanic guys shooting hoops at the basketball court, and one older black man sitting on a park bench, a ways down the block. I quickly ducked into the restroom area, but was confronted by a sign on the ladies room door saying it was closed for repairs.
Desperate, I looked around carefully and then hurried inside the men's toilet. There were several urinals and three stalls. The first stall also had an out of order sign on the door and the last one was for disabled persons. I used the one in the center. There were holes in each wall of the narrow stall; pictures of penises, pussies, tits, stuff like that drawn all over the walls. I sat down and peed like a fountain for a minute or two, images flooding my already horny mind about all the things that had happened there. The place even smelled like sex. As I reached for some tissue to clean up, I heard footsteps at the front door. I froze, lifting my feet so they couldn't be seen from outside.
Someone came in and entered the disabled stall. Careful not to be seen through the hole, I leaned forward and peeked through it. It was the older black man I'd earlier seen sitting on the park bench. He stood there for a moment before he began peeing. His cock was really big - every bit as large as Randy's, but also different. Sure it was black, but Randy is circumcised and this guy wasn't. It was the first uncut cock I'd ever seen, even on the computer. He kept pulling the foreskin back to expose its crown, and then easing it back over the tip as he pissed. It looked like the large black snake I'd once see as a kid.
I suddenly realized my mouth was filled with cotton and I was constantly licking my lips. I'd never seen a man pee before. He finally finished, shook that meaty black thing a few times - and then began to slowly stroke it. He turned to face me, his cock steadily growing harder as he pulled his foreskin back and forth over the huge spongy crown. I felt that eye in its tip was staring straight at me. Swallowing hard, attempting to breathe through my half-open mouth, I was trembling all over.
I thought, my god, he knows I'm watching!
He didn't say anything but he moved closer to the wall, pulling his foreskin all the way back to expose the soft head - holding it there. Transfixed, I stared at the thick cock jerking and throbbing only a few inches from my face. Suddenly, my mouth wasn't dry anymore. It was watering. I could not do this, I told myself, remembering Randy's words of warning. There were awful diseases out there, some that could kill you. Besides, that nasty thing might be filthy . . . maybe smell bad, too. I leaned closer to the opening. So did he. There was a clear drop of nectar on its tip, silver, glistening, making my mouth water even more.
I was so close to the hole that he must've seen my mouth, for he shoved that big chocolate head all the way through the opening. Without even thinking about it I stuck out my tongue and - licked that drop away - lovingly closing my mouth entirely over its head - swooning with pleasure. How does one explain the immense enjoyment of having a warm cock inside one's mouth? It's electrifying, comforting, and extremely exciting, all at the same time. I was in heaven.
The stall was so narrow I could comfortably sit on the toilet stool to accommodate him. I nibbled gently at the loose foreskin, enjoying that new experience. Then, I slid my wet lips softly around-and-around on the head before licking down its entire length, then back up to the tip again. Reaching through the opening, I found his large balls and eased them through the hole. With his thick cock already in the space, the large black sacks barely fit through the opening. Imagining them to be of a rich chocolate flavor, I gently sucked each nut into my mouth, savoring his grunt of pleasure. I licked back up the large vein on the bottom of the meaty organ, and then forced my mouth down over the thick head, taking as much of it as I could stand. Choking, I momentarily backed off to catch my breath, and then immediately forced my head back down on it.
He just let me work, not moving a muscle, grunting and sighing every once in a while when it felt really good. I could feel his thick veins and ridges as my lips moved over them, the awesome crown pushing into my gullet, forcing my throat open wider and wider, unrelenting as it went deeper. Eventually, I got most of it into my tortured throat, feeling curly hair against my face. I loved it. I began sucking in earnest, soaking up the small sounds of pleasure he was making on the other side of the wall. This was where I belonged. If allowed, I could do it all day. I cupped his balls in one small hand, gripping the base of his cock with the other - in total control of the situation. I felt every ridge on his awesome cock, tasting his precious pre-cum, feeling his balls tighten as he neared release. Yes, yes, let me have it all, my brain screamed. This total stranger was going to dump his balls into my stomach - and I wanted it. He came with a loud grunt - a long steady stream, warm, salty, hitting the roof of my mouth, coating my tongue, sliding down the working muscles of my throat to pool in my soft belly. I was trembling so badly I nearly fell off the toilet stool, still holding onto his cock, licking, sucking and making love to it until he finally forced it from my mouth.
As I struggled to get my breathing under control, I sensed slight movement behind me. Another cock protruded from the hole of the out-of-order stall. It was brownish, shorter and thicker, looking hard as teakwood. I thought it was probably one of the Hispanic guys I'd seen playing basketball. I slid around on the stool and took it into my mouth, hearing a groan on the other side of the thin wall. I wanted more. I hadn't had nearly enough. Precum immediately filled my mouth and I knew this one wouldn't last long. Something tapped the wall behind me and I looked. The black guy had his cock through the hole again. I didn't hesitate.
