Last week I was away for a couple of days at the sex industry trade show Erofame – I’ll tell you all about it in an upcoming post. While I was away, inevitably I started missing my partner. I missed him generally, of course: I wanted to be able to chat to him about all the cool new sex toys I was discovering and share stories from the event. But more specifically I missed his cock, and I looked forward immensely to coming home and sliding right down to the base of it.
I am not hoping for the apocalypse. Let that sink in, fully and completely, because although this includes a dirty story about gang-bangs and sexual servicing, it is not an ‘ apocalypse fantasy’ in the purposeful sense: I do not ever want it to come true. I don’t want the world to end, and I don’t want anyone to die. But sometimes, when I am calm and happy, I entertain myself by daydreaming about the end of the world. In my fantasy, all the people on the planet have disappeared except for a select few. And those select few: they fuck me.
A long time ago, a beautiful man I knew wore a kilt to a party. Like many men who wear kilts to parties, he immediately made a joke about whether he was going commando. His statement was an ambiguous ‘maybe’ followed by a nudge and a wink that invited us to wonder. Never one to pass up an invitation like that, I spent the entire rest of the night wondering. In detail.
Where was I? Oh yes: in the centre of a circle of eager, horny men, taking part in a competitive gang bang. My ass is lubed up with the spunk of the first guy who fucked me, and I’m catching my breath before round two.
This is the second in a two-part story. Read the first part – competition – then pop back here for the finale.
Brace yourself: I think this might be the most narcissistic, self-centered wank fantasy I’ve ever had. But seeing as it’s given me so many excellent afternoon distractions, I thought I’d share it with you. It involves a gang bang, a competition, and a hell of a lot of struggle-fucking.