From Throne to BBC
Over the years I (M40) have realised I’m happiest when I’m dirty, buried in a woman’s ass, serving as her throne. That’s the fantasy that never dims. But on the other side of forty I noticed something: as much as women might enjoy the game, it rarely burns as hot for them as it does for me. It’s my core kink, not always theirs.
Appetite That Outgrew Casual Play#
Another truth? I’m pulled toward the women some call sluts or bitches,the seasoned ones with countless experiences etched into their bodies. Call-girls especially fascinate me. Not simply because I can pay and leave, but because their knowledge of sex dwarfs mine. I imagine being prey in their realm, a plaything for someone who has mastered every touch. The more lovers she’s had, the more she consumes me.
That hunger is why I booked Malu and Michel for my first BBC exploration. I wanted to be the willing accessory while a muscle goddess orchestrated her partner. We started in the shower, mouths everywhere, both of us worshipping Malu. When I slid down to kiss her pussy, I closed my eyes and took Michel’s cock too. At first it was soft, but I stayed on him beside her until the size I’d imagined filled my mouth. Hard. Heavy.
Baptism by BBC#
We dried off and she led the choreography: guiding his dick inside her, asking me to watch up close, then using me as the lube dish under them. I was face buried in her while they thrust, hands clasped around her breasts like prayer. When she turned me into a dog on the mattress,his cock in my throat, her fingers massaging my ass,I lost control. She stroked me, I came, and still, I felt like a slut begging for more.
After a breather we talked. I confessed I wanted to watch them without joining, so they did. He finished near her pussy; I swallowed everything. Being reduced to that role, tasting them both, nearly made me hard again even though I was spent. I never thought I could lick cum and stay soft, but there I was: defeated, aroused, and craving a rematch.
Lessons I Carry Forward#
I’m still processing it all. The taste. The weight. The feeling of being less than, but right where I wanted to be. Maybe I’m not dirty,maybe I’m just finally honest.