I got very lonely during the pandemic. I’m an outgoing person, and the pandemic made me feel desperate to talk to anyone at any given opportunity. Many businesses had to cease operations, leaving people stuck at home with little to do.

In a town not far from where I reside, I found myself in a very long line at a Payless grocery, and with everyone maintaining a six-foot distance, I couldn’t even see the register as I peered around the person in front of me.

I snapped a pic from my place in line to presumably share with anyone who could relate or pretend to care about my first-world suffering. I suddenly heard a voice speak from behind me.

“If I were any further back in line, I’d be home.”

I turned around to notice that the guy who just got in line behind me was either speaking to me or just talking out loud to himself in the air.

Hoping for the former, I jumped on the opportunity to finally talk to someone, in person, face-to-face, for a change. He looked young, had dark, short hair, and was slightly shorter than I was. He had brown eyes, and appeared very well-groomed.

He seemed equally as pleased to talk to me as I was to him, and we chatted some during our sludgy progression to the register. Just friendly banter between two people with nothing better to do, or so I thought until he abruptly shifted the topic.

“Time passes so fast. How have you been anyway?” Now, speaking as if he knew me, it just felt odd, as I did not yet recognize him.

“Well, I’m doing fine, as long as I have plenty of liquor in the cabinet,” I joked in an attempt to break the shade of awkwardness from a question that felt phrased out of place.

He gave me a fake chuckle as if amused that I didn’t give him any of the typical replies that he expected. “Well, yeah, I can see that you’re fine. As fine as the print on my student loans. You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you.”

I was taken aback, realizing he recognized me. My mouth fell open as if I was about to speak, but I found myself at a loss for words and felt completely caught off guard. There was a familiarity in the way he spoke. I took a more piercing look into his eyes, trying to figure out where he knew me from.

He continued without missing a beat. "Are you still working at Victoria's Secret?"

His question placed a firm period in my mind, which drew me to the relation of who he was. Jacob, my old roommate's nephew. He always was an interesting character with an overconfident humor that shadows his flamboyant nature.

Years prior, I was a roommate with a couple, his aunt April and her husband, Shane. Leasing their spare bedroom after a sudden breakup with my partner. Jacob used to come over as if to visit them, but it often seemed like he came over to amuse me with his pickup lines. I felt certain that he was acquiring these online as if attempting to butter me up for something.

I took it in good humor and figured that he was using me for practice to gauge my reactions so that he could use the best ones on girls his age, although much of the time all I could do was either laugh or inform him of how corny it was.

"No, I quit long before they closed down," I replied with relief that I remembered his name.

I then informed him that I was making a commute to Indianapolis, working for a company there. From then on we had plenty to catch up on. He gave me a brief overview of his college life, which was interrupted by the pandemic and has now shifted to online learning, along with the associated expenses.

As I exited the store, I was forced to tolerate the clatter and clanging sounds of my cart as I pushed it across the rough pavement toward my Terrain. I loaded the groceries, noticing his exit, now making an angle to another row of cars. I threw the last of my goods in the back and rushed past the cart corral to put mine up in the corral closest to his vehicle.

I walked up behind him as he was loading his groceries with the bold intention of inserting myself into his life, as I often tend to do with some people, having hopes that I might have someone else to add to my social circles, breaking the comfort zone of typical societal norms with a bold, nonchalant attitude, as I was often known by some to do.

“Hi again!” My voice is now higher for some reason. Turning to face me, his expression told me that he was not expecting to see me again.

"Why don't you call me sometime?" I never get to talk to anyone anymore." A small white lie of an excuse that I make for myself to justify my need for connections with others, yet all too often they feel distant despite my efforts due to my mental inability to form meaningful connections with others leaving a sense of detachment from those I try so hard to feel close to.

I was probably about ten years his senior, but Jacob was always fun to talk to. A flamboyant personality that always felt upbeat with a cheesy humor that apparently has become butter smooth since. I quickly told him my number, then had to repeat it as he typed it into his phone. Following up with a fist bump, which, thanks to the pandemic, became the replacement for handshakes. I walked away only to turn my head and see him watching me, to which I responded with a bright smile. 

My initial intentions were innocent. At least consciously. However, sleeping behind my friendly personality lies a nympho who mirrors my likeness, pushing my better judgment through a cloud, and casting shadows over rational thought.

My vision dims to see only lust and selfish desire as my only map to a spiritual connection that illustrates pathways to others through intimacy with those in close regard. Without that map, I feel lost and distant from those around me.

He texted me sometime soon after our chance encounter at Payless. It may have been that very night, even. From then on, we exclusively communicated via text, mostly about typical life things, aside from occasionally having to dodge any political talk that arose out of the left field. It's something that I had to get pretty good at if I was to keep any of my friends during this newly highly charged society that fed off of controversy.

Texting was just about all that I had as far as human connection at the time, aside from brief interactions at work or over lunch. Living near a small town out in the sticks wasn’t exactly a convenient place for friends to just drop by, but at least Jacob lived close enough that I thought perhaps I could find him a reason. I quickly realized that Jacob's personality hadn't changed a bit as he peppered me with compliments beginning every morning with a ritual of texting the words "good morning, beautiful."

Although I remained mildly flattered, it's something that I've heard so often throughout my life that I perhaps became desensitized to it or perhaps feel as if they are fake, made in an attempt to glow me up. Despite that, I kept him in the Rolodex of the pointless conversations I had between what felt like digital friends.

In the following days or weeks, I don't recall exactly. He began texting about his relationships that, up till this point, I knew nothing about. He spoke some about a girl that he had been seeing, and I got a bit nosy, opting to look her up online. Curious to see what she looked like, I found a social media page where she shared some of her pictures.

My initial impressions of her were cynical, though I had no reason to be. Maybe she reminded me too much of my younger self. Revealing clothing, being pretentious, and coming off like some kind of influencer, for which I held little regard.

He spoke of his confusion about some of her sudden mood swings, ranging from talkative to cold-shouldering or becoming angry at him, all within minutes. However, I told him that it could be a lot of things, from stress to lifestyle changes, etc. In my mind I just presumed her to be a bitch. Again, having no real reason, perhaps I was somewhat jealous of her youth, looks, and potential.

I mostly complained to him about the isolation I felt since the pandemic, which he experienced often as well. Something that I'm sure many of us were feeling at the time. He began to openly confess that he had always had a crush on me, and it reignited after seeing me at the store.

I wasn't sure how to respond other than with something neutral. Aw, that's so sweet.

Following up with an explanation that I'm not the kind of girl you take home to show Mom, which is very true, but he dismissed the cynical viewpoint I had of myself all the same. Historically, I never paid much attention to him because, to me back then, he was just a kid, and now I had to recognize that he was old enough to drink in a bar. When he began asking about my love life, well, it just made it all the more depressing.

I replied honestly and vaguely that I sometimes see guys casually whenever possible. I reached the peak after turning 30 and joked that it was all downhill from there. At the time I had no prospects and had so little to do but sit at home, likely amplified in my head more so than in reality. From there he made some attempts to basically say that he’d like to keep me company with all the innuendo that he wanted to do more than just talk.

He also gave me the "age is just a number" speech, following up by claiming that I was a MILF. I replied that he had been watching too many American Pie movies, although his flattery did amuse me. Eventually, my boredom and high libido would become a weak spot to his consistent attempts at flattery.

At some point during all of this, I texted April that I had seen Jacob at the store and how he had grown up so much that I had difficulty recognizing him, and that struck up a lengthier conversation. This was the first time that we had any consistent messaging with each other since I moved out. I yearn for friends, but due to my feelings of distance from them, maintaining them required a lot of effort on my part.

My text conversations with Jacob gradually turned sexual, where he would try to pass off a sexual remark jokingly, and I would follow with a reply of neutral amusement. Not quite telling him to stop and not quite giving him the green light either. 

I wasn't yet diagnosed with any mental conditions at the time, but I knew that I wasn’t normal and attributed all of it to me being some kind of nympho who didn’t care who got hurt in the process. I used men to satisfy myself but also to feel a connection to their partner if they were someone I knew. I’ll admit, having seen some of his girlfriend’s social media and hearing about her from him produced a devilish curiosity in my mind.

While masturbating, there were times when I began to feel curious as to what it was about him that his girlfriend liked and what their sex life felt like. I could feel that the devil on my shoulder, the wicked one, was beginning to formulate another one of its plans.

Despite my promiscuity, I often go through months of dry spells followed by the occasional one-night stand or friend-with-benefits until we tire of each other, only to repeat it all over again with someone else. Only a small part of me wanted Jacob to stop. The soft-spoken angel side that still thought of him as that kid who used to make me laugh with his corny pickup lines and also because I felt that he deserved more than just a sex partner. 

However, the other side wanted to think of him as the young man that he is. One that has youthful stamina and could perhaps be molded into a new toy for me to play with. Something to prove to my ego that I’m still better than his little miss influencer wannabe. So many of my prior partners had been older that I had forgotten what it was like to have a partner youthful enough to go multiple times a day.

Late one night after a few drinks. I felt an impulsive whim to send Jacob a nude pic. Nothing too dramatic, just a close-up shot of my bare breasts pointing at the camera, offering a subtle ego boost to show just how much larger my boobs were than his girlfriend’s, although I don’t know why; it was just a brief whim of the mind. I don't recall his reply exactly, but it came off as a bit over-enthusiastic as if he'd never seen boobs before, but I enjoy the tease. It’s a foreplay that gets me wound up and wet with hormonal lust.

I was still on birth control, and I was often more reliant on it than I should have been. I’ve always had a breeding kink, but my affairs with men were usually a little far and few in between anyway. So the impulsive side of me left little room for rational thinking, as I had already planned out what we were going to do and how we were going to do it.

We began sexting one night, and I asked him to tell me in detail about how his girlfriend enjoyed sex. I learned that she insisted on condoms and preferred the doggy position, or if he was on top, then she would just lie there. She also had never tried nor had an interest in trying anal and, according to him, wasn’t that great at giving blowjobs.

She sounded more boring with each passing moment. Or perhaps he was just making it seem that way in a further attempt to get under my sheets as if I was going to feel sorry for him or something. All the same, I became hungry enough that I made him the offer that if he was serious, then he could come up and spend the night at my place.

We then began talking about each other’s sexual preferences. He seemed to get excited when I mentioned that I loved anal, bondage, role-playing, and, well, pretty much everything except for some of the gross kinks like water sports. He seemed to indicate that he was into all of the same things as well, and I don’t know if he was just so willing to please me as to pretend being that open-minded or if he just lacked enough experience to formulate his own preferences.

He then went on telling me about how sexy he thought my body was, further making it clear to me that it was all he probably ever wanted from me anyway, which is for the best as it suited my interests as well, although I think deep down I was mostly doing it to spite his girlfriend and to make myself feel superior to her.

He claimed to have never tried anal, so I told him that if he could handle it, I’d let him fill up all three holes, but anal would be last. He had all night, after all, and I relished with an expectation to get stuffed more than a cream-filled doughnut. His enthusiasm in response gave me the trust that he could pull off an all-nighter, and the thought probably got me more excited than him.

On what was likely a Friday evening, I prepped myself as the thought of getting some young cock stroked my aging ego. I had fully shaved, showered, and even spent too much time on my hair. I used my anal syringe with warm water as an enema to clean myself as well as I could. Then I filled it with olive oil (yes, it makes for a great anal lubricant and is completely safe) and injected it into my rectum.

I used my anal toys to help relax my rectal muscles so that later when the time came, I would be able to take his cock no matter what size he happened to be. I then changed into my lingerie, and all that was left for me to do was wait for my prey to show up, as I jokingly refer to it, arriving at my doorstep like a pizza delivery with hopes that it would be a four-course meal and not something akin to one of those disappointing microwavable meals that never comes out as the package suggests.

With my leather restraints secured to the headboard and everything else on the side table that included hand towels, a ball gag, a blindfold, a cock ring, a vibrator, and, of course, my dildo strap-on (in case he is a bad boy in need of punishment.)

Upon awaiting Jacob's arrival. I had decided that I would tie him up to my bed and drain him until he was dehydrated, pale, and begging me to stop. Give him a short break, then work him again. Just like test-driving a car, I felt it necessary to put him through his paces and see what his virility was capable of. Little did I realize that my age was beginning to catch up with me, and I didn’t have the sexual stamina that I thought I still had.

All of my toys lay bare on a table close to the bed, like sides on a dinner plate. All that I needed now was for the main course to be delivered. Akin to Dracula waiting for a knock at the door by some poor peasant who had turned a wheel and required a place to board.

I began to imagine the similarities that I had to a vampire. I feed on my target, consuming their energy until they are weak but still able to move. I wait for their recovery only to repeat again and again until I am full and bored of their company.

Then I toss them aside like a Black Widow discarding her leftovers. Macabre, in thought, but it now occurs to me where the term "man-eater" derived from.

Jacob finally arrived, albeit late. His eyes spoke with a loud admiration for my chosen attire before complimenting my physique, now on full display through my form-fitting, red lingerie. I gave him a welcoming hug and a suggestive whisper in his ear that I'd have to punish him for being tardy. His wry smile suggested that his confidence was stronger than my will, which my cynicism brushed off in dismissal.

I offered him a drink and even suggested something healthy to snack on so that he could keep up his strength, further informing him that it may be a very long night. He had a giddy laugh as if I was joking.

I remarked, “Well, I guess you want to learn the hard way about why mothers tell their boys to avoid women like me."

His smile was contagious, but he also seemed as if he was too nervous to touch me as I kept my arms snug around his shoulders, providing every opportunity for his hands to brush across my body as I led him into the kitchen. Instead, he kept his arms close to his side.

I motioned for him to sit down as I grabbed a banana and set it down in front of him, leaning over to reveal the cleavage busting out of my 34DD bralette, capturing his gaze.

"Don't you like to play with your food before you eat it? I know I do." I softly spoke as I ran my finger down his forehead and off his nose. He broke out into tense laughter, shortened to a halt by a nervousness that I continued to ignore.

He casually picked up the banana, held it up to my gaze, and said, "Yeah, I like to lick it slow and slurp its juices before I swallow."

I raised my brow; he then looked at what he was holding, only to realize what he had said and how this picture must appear from another point of view outside his own. We both began laughing near hysterics.

“Sounds like you’re learning something new about yourself,” I joked, still recovering from my laughter.

Taking the banana from his hand, I peeled it gracefully while holding his gaze. I slowly put it into my mouth suggestively. I relaxed my muscles so that I could take it all the way down into my throat as I closed my lips to hide its entirety behind my lips, hoping not to gag.

His eyes lit up with a reflection of twinkling light as if he were a cartoon character. His mouth dropped as I closed my lips before I forced it back out in one piece and returned it to him. "Now eat, you'll need your strength," I commanded.

We didn't converse for very long. I could feel the emptiness enlarge from within, and an internal need to fill that void with something hard and warm, further altering my sadistic desire to tease him into a sultry demeanor wet with hunger. I only now realize as I'm writing this that I had become sidetracked from the whole point of my obtaining his number, which was for me to have casual company, someone to talk to.

Instead, I listened to the Wicked One's consistent persuasions. It filled my mind with selfish desires, against better judgment. It provided excitement to a taboo thought, a thrill to discretion, and rewarded me with dopamine bliss for each successful attempt.

Jacob took well to orders. I told him to go into my bedroom, remove all clothing, and lie in the bed. I had thought that perhaps he was trying to be a gentleman, reasoning to myself as to why he had not yet laid a finger on me. I was never one to spend much time on foreplay outside of sadistic teasing since I usually have myself worked up in my mind long before the opportunity for foreplay presents itself.

I watched him undress. His slender, youthful figure and tight skin served more to remind me of my age in comparison than they did to please me. But I knew that my body was what he desired, just as I desired to feel his power. He appeared somewhat shy as if undressing for the first time in front of others, and yet it didn't dawn on me that this night would probably be his first time for a lot of things. 

As he sat on the bed, he noticed the toys on the table.

"What are those for?" He questioned me, and I had to double-blink and take a moment to respond.

"Oh, you sweet summer child," I playfully spoke with the stubborn thought that he must be playing coy with me, especially after he claimed to have all sorts of sexual preferences. I laid him down flat on the bed and began raising his arms towards my headboard as I continued speaking in a low tone.

"Those are tools that I use to punish naughty boys who talk dirty to older women and arrive late to dinner." And with that, I wrapped the restraints around his wrists.

"I'm going to make a nice meal out of you." I playfully spoke as his eyes widened.

"Now don't go anywhere, I'll be back," I said, quickly darting towards the bathroom for a last-minute refresh.

Upon returning, I checked the restraints around his wrists and made sure that they were tight. He was visibly excited and nervous at the same time, kind of a cute look, like a kid who lost his mommy in a toy store. His vulnerability lay bare before my eyes as I squinted with lustful desire, firm in the knowledge that a part of him, an experience that we will both forever share, was now all mine.

“Are you ready to receive your punishment for all those naughty things that you said to me?” I softly spoke as I ran my hands across his chest. He nodded with eagerness. Moving my gaze across, I realized that he was already hard.

I reached for my cock ring and put it on him. “Ooh, this is kinky,” I remember him saying. I rubbed my hands across his balls, gently playing until I became cock drunk.

I eventually leaned up over his right ear and whispered, “Does your girlfriend kiss like this?”

I then sensually dragged my lips across his, and as soon as his mouth opened, I slithered my tongue into him to reach his. We rolled our tongues together for some moments so that I could taste his mouth before breaking free.

His eyes widened before he softly spoke, “Not quite like that, I don't think.”

I straddled his upper body and began grinding my soaked pussy on his chest before repositioning myself over his face. We made eye contact as I dragged my labia across his lips. He opened his mouth, and I felt his tongue begin to explore my inner folds.

I began grinning as I spoke in a commanding tone. "Lick it like a Popsicle.”

He then began flicking his tongue as I positioned my clit to where the pleasure could become my focus. My pleasure increased as I slowly rocked my hips in rhythm with his tongue harder while trying not to slip too far forward and break his nose. His tongue flicked furiously, and I began to breathe faster and heavier.

Through an ever-growing surge, I hear my vocals becoming uncontrollably louder and higher-pitched. A buzzing sensation was ever-growing from my pelvis outward across my body. I close my eyes tight as if tears would come out if I didn’t. The initial wave of release overwhelms my senses. My toes stiffen and curl. My thighs squeeze ever tighter around his head without a thought that he probably couldn't breathe.

With a high-pitched squeal, I remember squeezing my breasts hard in an attempt to use pain to calm the intense sensitivity of the static-like electricity washing across my body in waves until I lost control and squirted in his face. Gasping, I opened my eyes with a blurry vision to realize what I had done. I quickly pull myself off to see him gasping in relief. 

His eyes squinted against the wetness. I dried them off with a towel before putting on the blindfold and placing it over his eyes.

I spoke louder than I intended, “Now it’s my turn to feed.”

I put the ball gag into his mouth and haphazardly got the band around his head just enough to hold it in place. Inserting his cock inside me, finally expanding my vaginal walls with pressure. His warmth felt welcoming as I began to ride him casually to feed my hunger. Like an itch needing a scratch, I yearned for friction as I thrust my hips, pumping his cock with a consistent rhythm.

With a gag in his mouth, all he could do was breathe heavily through his nose. He made grunt-like sounds, muffled as if he was probably wondering out loud about what he got himself into. I closed my eyes and focused on feeling the shape of his cock inside me.

A looming desire to feel him on top of me began to take form, but it would have to wait for now. I smacked his chest with a thunderous vocal "Yes!" escaping my breath, digging my nails into the skin of his chest so that he may feel the salty, sweet mix of pain and pleasure.

His arms looked tense, like he wanted to free himself, when I realized that I had not even let him play with my breasts yet. However, it would have to wait; I wanted his release. Post-first orgasm, I was now fully intense and more focused on his pleasure.

With his vulnerability beneath me, my dominance assured, I continued to ride him as I began to imagine his girlfriend, probably sitting somewhere with her eyes glued to her phone or perhaps making some TikTok video thinking how cute she feels, blissfully unaware that I’m fucking her boyfriend into submission.

These thoughts unleashed a taboo pleasure within, further arousing me. I became so wet that I felt the need to ride him harder and faster. If given no limits, I probably would have liked for his girlfriend to watch. To witness me raw-dogging him like she never could just so that I could ask how cute she feels now. My thoughts can be so evil that I find them embarrassing to share, but I want to remain accurate and true to how I was then.

I could feel, through Jacob's subtle movements and faster breathing, that he could be close to finishing. My only intention now was to milk him and assert my dominance through my will to extract his seed anywhere I desired.

I pulled off his blindfold so that he could watch me fuck him through his now watery eyes. I pulled off his gag so that I could hear the noises he would make when he came. He instantly began breathing heavily out of his mouth, and his gaze turned downward to watch my breasts bounce as my nipples grazed lightly across his.

“God, you feel amazing.” He gasped out loud. “So do you,” I spoke through my breath in response.

I could feel that my gooey, warm possession was on its way. His muscles began tensing up, and I felt a little quiver inside me. With a sudden burst, he thrust upwards hard into me. I pushed against his chest to hold him still as I slowed to a steady grind and squeezed my pelvic muscles tight against his shaft in a rhythmic fashion.

The quiver turned into a pulse-like sensation within me. He exhaled in satisfaction as we stared into each other's eyes. I looked deep within him as if studying. I felt as though I was taking possession of his soul, and as I began to furiously work my clit with my right hand, I felt as if his penetration expanded deeper, further triggering my body to produce another orgasm, lighter than before but longer lasting. All over my body, a ticklish, tingly feeling further deepened the bond I had for him, yielding a rewarding satisfaction.

His seed was now firmly planted inside me. I sat up, relaxing my grip as I continued to play with my clit, further enjoying this longer, yet milder orgasm. Our breaths slowly died down, not yet speaking in words but rather communicating to each other with our bodies.

We have become one, and through this unity, I felt spiritually connected to him. Something that felt meaningful, far from the distant acquaintance that I once knew. I looked down at him smiling with a sense of pride that my body gave him such pleasure.

The Devil’s work was done. My mind is now at ease with the silence of the Wicked. I sat motionless on top of him as if absorbing every little drop that he had to give before slowly pulling him out of me. The pressure inside me was released with satisfaction as the head came out.

I untied his restraints, removed his cock ring, and handed him a towel. He lay there as if exhausted. I lay beside him and held him in my arms. He mustered enough energy to reach over and play with my boobs. I knew that he wouldn't resist the urge to do so for long. I reached over for the remote and turned on the TV and began to feel his cum gradually seeping out of me and onto the sheet, forming a wet spot beneath me.

He inevitably dozed off while I continued to watch TV for another 20 or so minutes, waiting for him to recover. Upon his awakening, I dragged my hand across his face. "Wakey, wakey; it's time for round two," I said, following with a wry smile.

He looked at me with grogginess, wiping his hands across his face, looking at me with an odd wonder before speaking. "No, that was awesome." He spoke sitting up.

"I just can't believe that this is finally happening. I used to fantasize about you all the time when you lived with April."

"Really?" I responded as if surprised, but I wasn’t. I suspected as much the moment he confessed to having had a crush on me.

Upon his return from the restroom, I cradled him in my arms and teased his cock with my fingers as he kissed my breasts. Once he became hard again, I pulled him over top of me, allowing him to show me his virility. His cock now inside me once more as he continued fondling my breasts, kissing my nipples before I informed him that he might bite them gently.

Time slipped away into the abyss as he engulfed me with his power. "Don't stop!" I shouted, once again feeling a tingle gradually turn into a volcano within me. He held his rhythm as I commanded, as my moans gained higher and higher in pitch. Losing control of my body, my back arched upward only to be restricted by his weight as he continued his onslaught like a machine, pounding my pussy into submission.

When I came back to my senses, I was happy to sense that he had not finished yet. I whispered into his ear. “I want to swallow you.”

We changed positions. He sat on the edge of the bed as I knelt on my knees before him. I leaned down to lick my secretions from his shaft. He placed his hands behind my head, forcing himself ever deeper into my throat. I pressed the length of my tongue along his shaft and worked it, not stopping even during the moments when I gagged.

I didn’t notice him coming until it caused me to choke and cough, and I continued to hold him steady in my mouth as the taste finally hit my palate. "More sweet than salty," I noted as I dragged my lips off the head, slurping what little was left. I continued to cough up his cum as if it had tried to go down the wrong pipe until I regained my breath and swallowed the remainder.

After wiping my mouth with a towel, he indicated that he could keep going and wanted to try anal next. I looked at him with both shock and disbelief. You have got to be kidding. I thought to myself. I was already getting tired and suggested a rest.

With the TV still on, we lay close to keep our nude bodies warm. I dozed off briefly only to awaken hearing him say, “Are you ready to go yet?”

I realized that my earlier ego had lied to me. Here I thought that I would be the one making him beg to stop, and I was already getting sore and tired. With a nod, I made my way off the bed and went into the bathroom to freshen up once more and to apply more lube to my rectum.

I assumed the position on the bed with my ass high in the air. “Go real slow until I give you the go-ahead,” I told him. I relaxed as I felt the initial push. Harder and harder he pushed until I finally gave way and felt an immense amount of expanding pressure. I don’t know how tight it felt for him, but my rectum felt like a balloon that was about to pop.

“Give it to me hard, Jacob!” I spoke loudly. Not that I wanted him to, but at this point, I was just ready to get done. The initial burning-like sensation in my rectum gradually went from mild discomfort to comfort and then finally began to become gradually more pleasurable. It had been a while since any man had ventured back there.

“What does it feel like?” I asked through my breathless grunts out of a legitimate curiosity that slipped into my thoughts.

“It feels super tight, just like your pussy,” he informed me. I wasn’t sure if he said it just to glow me up or what, but I didn’t care enough to inquire further. I was ready to get him done. He had come twice already within the past hour and a half, maybe, or however long had passed since he first came, and I feared that he would take forever to finish this time. It felt good for now, but I wanted to get him close to finishing before it started to get too uncomfortable.

"Come for me, Jacob." "Please come." "I want your warm load deep inside me!" I repeated several times in hopes of rushing him to the finish line.

Even mixing the words up and adding some that I probably can’t remember. Just anything that I could think of to make him finish. The pounding was intense, and he felt like a machine without an end in sight.

I felt extremely vulnerable and submissive. I was completely at his mercy. I couldn’t move at all; I didn’t dare to try. His cock was beginning to feel like it was rearranging my guts. The force of his thrusts was pushing my body forward only to retract back with the pull of his arms. His grip around my waist was intense as if he was using it to hang on for dear life.

I felt him thrust harder and faster. I knew then that he was almost there. “Give me what I need,” I spoke louder with each breath, along with multiple variations of things that I have since forgotten. Finally, there it was. Shorter, deeper thrusts as he groaned, and I knew. I finally had him in every orifice.

As he pumped his last shot into me, he held me firmly in place as deep as he could push. I could feel the tension, a slight discomfort deep in my abdomen. All I could do now was wait for him to release me so that I might bask in the aftermath. Time felt as if moving slow. He finally pulled out, providing a great sense of relief and relaxation.

"So you want to try out some more of these toys?" he spoke gruffly, gesturing towards my side table.

"Heh," I huffed as I lay on my back, too tired to clean up our mess. I could tell that he still had a lot more in him, although I had hoped that he was joking. My once powerful ego, held high by my libido, was now deflated in defeat.

Over the following months, we would have occasions together where he would stay most of the day, keeping my consistent hunger pacified and ready to go at my leisure. His short refractory period served me well during times when other partners couldn't go on. I had the option to hit him up so that I could receive all the more that I desired and then some.

Over time, like all of my partners, I grew bored and opted to remain friends, but I suspect that if I asked today, he'd come straight over like a good boy toy.