Debauched Obsession - Sex Stories

Debauched Obsession

Question: Do you ever find yourself in a situation where you think; 'It was so natural for me to end up here,'then realise, 'I’m lying in a bed of jizz.'

No? Just me? Oh, okay then.

I just turned thirty. People my age talk about their first loves, and how they’ve married their ‘one true love’. I just think about how I can’t tell them about my first love, and my one true love. Cum.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had epic relationships with both men and women. But, if we’re being truly honest, when I’m looking for a relationship, I’m really in search of cum. It’s the cum that keeps me.

Salty and delicious, a real delicacy if you ask me. It’s wasted on those who cringe away from it, afraid of the mess or just trying to get it over with quickly.

For me, there’s not a lot I’m unwilling to do to get it. See, I’m a bit of a sexual deviant. My salacious desire taking over me desperately trying to burst out of me. The need to seek it out, searching for opportunities to experience every sexual quirk and adventure I possibly could. This could overwhelm me. To be honest, I let it. I enjoyed it. Clearly, I still do. I know it and I own it. Want a girl with a load of kinks? Hit me up – I’ve got them in droves. Ultimately, it all comes back to the same thing. Seminal fluid.

Creamy white, calorific goodness. Fucking yum.

My first taste was at seventeen, I was genuinely surprised – he lasted several seconds. He was seventeen as well, almost eighteen, and he started to cum as I ...

... licked and stroked his long slender cock. I swiped my thumb over the red tip when it started to glisten. It fascinated me, I watched every reaction his prick had to my touch, I glanced up at his face and saw a fleeting look of pain. That was shortly before he put his palm to my head in a pointless effort to push me away. I instinctively covered him with my mouth. I eagerly swallowed his premature gift right away.

In fairness, I didn’t really know what I was doing then, but I had the lingering taste on my tongue. I tried to get him hard again to give me more, but he had to go up the road for his dinner. Ah Daniel, a sweet guy. I’ve never forgotten his taste.

After Daniel left, I sat down to dinner with my parents and sister. I was reluctant to eat anything; the taste of Daniel’s cum lingered in my mouth, on my tongue. I didn’t want to lose that. It turned out; I needn’t have worried. The taste stayed with me for days; tickling my taste buds. Each time sending me back to when it happened, making my pussy wet every time. I briefly pondered if there was something wrong with me.

I was addicted.

The confidence I’ve lacked in every other aspect of my life just isn’t there when it’s in relation to cum. It’s not just ‘his’ cum (whoever ‘he’ is). It’s mine too. Good Lord, give me a combination of different cums, mine and his, and I’m in heaven. Gooey, sticky, tangy heaven.

As I grew up a little and explored my sexuality more, my obsession only grew more intense, needier. ...