Open your throat slut - Sex Stories

Open your throat slut

Sometimes I see dicks everywhere. A cucumber turns into a thick cock. A shower head morphs into a spewing cock. A banana becomes a curved cock. The delusions carry an irresistible sexual craving. It can hit anytime, anywhere without any warning. All I can do is satisfy my darkest carnal desires. If anyone found out, my life as my university's top feminist leader would be dead. My books and research would never be taken seriously. I would never be tenured. So I write this anonymously in hopes that others who share the same problem will know they aren't alone. And maybe they'll find the same solution. The last attack snuck up on me last week when I stopped at a deli around the corner from my loft. While waiting for my veggie wrap, I watched a cute blonde in a sorority sweatshirt order a polish sausage and carry it to the booth next to mine. She licked her lips and slid the meat into her mouth. I felt my panties moistening. I wanted some sausage, too. The young co-ed deep throated the whole wiener. This was no longer just lunch -- it was sex in public. "Suck it," I said. "Suck that shit." The girl dropped the sandwich and furrowed her eyebrows. The fantasy was over. "Excuse me?" she asked. I felt every eye in the place fall on me. I'd wished I could've disappeared. "Oh, um, sorry," I said. "I thought you were someone else." The girl snorted. And I decided I wanted coffee more than a veggie sandwich. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked quickly toward coffee shop next ...

... to the Fine Arts building. The Java Hut has been my refuge since I was an undergrad. I feel safe sitting by the shop's only window and watching the people pass by on the sidewalk. The only problem was the shop sometimes closed at odd hours, like noon, with no explanation. I desperately hoped they'd have mercy and stay open for me. Thankfully, they did. A cappuccino machine shrieked as I swung open the door. Jake, the barista, clicked the machine off and shot whipping cream over the top of the steaming cup. He handed the drink to the only other customer, a big-titted lesbian with a sexy nose ring and short, blonde hair. She took a seat near the counter. Jake noticed me and asked, "May I help you?" I couldn't answer. My eyes were focused on the bulge in his pants. He looked enormous. Ten inches at least. "Hello?" Jake asked. "Are you feeling OK, Dr. Jones?" I snapped myself back into reality with a quick blink. "Yes, yes, of course," I said. "Just thinking about a poem I read today." "Longfellow?" he asked. Nasty thoughts flooded my brain, like a wave breaking over me. Random sex images flashed before my eyes. Tits giggling. Tongues licking clits. Cocks cumming on faces. Every inhibition suddenly fell from my body. "Longfellow," I said. "Yes, I love Longfellow." Jake smiled at me. "Sounds hot," he said. "And speaking of hot, can I get you any coffee today?" "Large cappuccino," I said. Jake disappeared behind a partition and a machine whirred. The sex images were still shooting ...