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Debauched Obsession

Thank you to LL, who’s pickiness and patience is very much appreciated. I’m not sorry. Thank you to WW for casting your eye over this, I’m very grateful. Lastly, thank you to you for reading!

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. I craved it; I craved those reactions from my lover. Those little gasps and moans, the jump in that muscle on my partner’s upper inner thigh when something I did really excited them… yeah, that I loved. I still love that little ripple I can feel under their skin. When I’m with a man, and their cock twitches because of me, it makes me want them more.

I need to watch them, feel it, taste it. My kinks grew up with me, spiralling, twisting and forming, all around my cum fixation. I figured out fairly quickly that it’s all in the tease. The more you tease them, the bigger the reward. And I like my big rewards.  My cum love. I have friends now who refer to it as ‘finishing’. That irks me, don’t they enjoy the clean-up? Don’t they want to share a dirty cummy kiss, those sticky strings keeping them connected as they passionately embrace the afterglow together?  

I love a cummy kiss. Swapping cum between lovers is so intimate and naughty, I’m always ready to lose it again when we do it. The very fact that I know you’ve just sucked our mess out of my well-fucked cunt and then forced it into my mouth for us to share the taste… that makes me tremble. I love how it feels like it brings us closer – like the whole debauched act is sealed with that dirty, wet, sticky, kiss. A delicious cocktail being passed between our mouths, coating our taste buds. It’s seared into my memories.  

It occurs to me that it’s been a while since I spoke to Josh. Josh is my ‘person’. We have always found our way back to each other, and over the years we’ve experimented together. Some experiments were riskier than others. Anyway, Josh shared my devotion to exploring the many things that can be done with cum. He’s very dominant, which I love. During a time when the Fitbit was just becoming a thing, we were having one of our most public affairs. He would message me when I was participating in group work at uni, telling me to meet him somewhere. One of his favourite places was the top floor of the library where the books for our Medicine in Society classes were. I met him there after this particularly gruelling group meeting about something related to religion in politics. He was casually leaning against one of the massive bookcases dedicated to sociology, reading about the origins of the vibrator – no joke. 

Josh pretended not to see me – part of his game. I got a whiff of his aftershave. I recognised it right away – Boss. As if the forty-five-minute build-up hadn’t been enough, during which he sent me filthy messages and a picture of the stacks he would be waiting for me in, he’d worn a scent he knew could bring me to my knees. I ran my finger along the tired spines of the books shelved there, until I stood so close to him my breath would be tickling his neck. The corner of his mouth tilted up, a smirk. “You took your sweet time.”  

I tickled his palm with my fingers, watching as the goosebumps appeared up his arm. I loved that I could have this effect on him. “I had a tutorial,” I explained as I lifted his hand to my mouth. He finally put the damn book back on a shelf. Swiftly, he turned and devoured my mouth. I couldn’t help but stand on my tiptoes to pull him down to me.  

“No.” The command was clear in his voice, but I ignored it. Well, I tried to. Then his strong hands were on my hips and he pushed me away so that my arse banged off the shelves behind me.  

“Ow,” I grumbled. My pouted lip made him sneer. I knew he was fully in Dom mode.  


That beautiful bastard wouldn’t let me cum. He wrenched down my leggings and simple white cotton panties, just enough that he could see my slit. Freeing his thick, bulging, prick, he grabbed my wrist and folded my hands around the top of my panties, guiding me to hold them out towards him.  

If anyone had seen us, it would have looked utterly obscene. There was a sticky string of my girly juice connecting my cunt and my underwear. He stroked his engorged prick into my panties – occasionally nudging my swollen clit with his glistening tip. Squeezing his purplish mushroom head between his thumb and fingers, his adept fingers found their way to my throat, causing my breathing to hitch and me to swallow.  

I whimpered as I felt his hand tighten ever so slightly around my neck. I needed to cum. He saw the desperation in my eyes, I know that’s what tipped him over the edge as his hand around me spasmed and his balls emptied his spunk powerfully over my slit and into my panties.  

A sheen of sweat gleamed on his forehead. Once he had relaxed his grip on me, he collected the remnants of his cum from himself and tucked himself away.  

“You’re going to wear me for the rest of the day, and you are not going to cum again until I allow it. That’s for taking so long to get here. Understand?” I nodded, somewhat distracted by the fact that his thumb was painting my lips with his salty goodness, and the feeling of his pleasure smeared all over my sex.  

That cruel, sexy, perverted, jackass

I had four more hours of classes to attend, and two more lectures located on opposite ends of the campus. Josh patted the front of my panties before I left, hot as hell, for another political class I could have cared less about just then. I semi-petulantly stomped away, down the stairs, and made my way across campus to the first of my next two classes. Even as I headed over, I knew I wasn’t actually mad. I adored this feeling; being on edge. Painfully desperate for that now elusive release. I arrived outside the lecture theatre, I had ten minutes to spare. I climbed the stairs to the back of the lecture hall, mostly empty except for two guys to my right. They weren’t interested in me at all.  


My laptop needed to be charged, so I climbed under the pew searching for the socket. On all fours, I looked down at my crotch and saw the noticeable dark wet spot. I can’t remember if I moaned, though I think I did. The combination of feeling his syrupy essence against my skin, and the sight that it was visible to others, made me act without a further thought. Before I realised what I was doing, my hand was in my panties gathering it. My need was off the charts. I must have been flushed all over. I circled my finger around my clit, feeling my solid little nub proud and sensitive, slick with Josh’s cum, and urgently demanding relief. 

The professor’s microphone screeched on, forcing me to withdraw my fingers. Frustrated, I plugged in the cable, and seated myself. I glanced to my right and noticed that the two guys were awfully red-faced now. Whilst the computer did its thing and the professor read through his introduction, I found myself completely powerless. I played with the tacky cum in my fingers and tasted it with an audible “Mmm”.

I’d already licked the ‘lip-gloss’ Josh had painted on me off, so I topped it up. I still had a generous glob in my fingers. I looked over at the guys again – catching the longer-haired one’s eye and licked my finger in an almost idle way. There was a burst of tang in my mouth, and I swirled it around with my tongue.  

There was still a smallish dollop left in my grip. I smiled smugly to myself, looking at the white blob, and then I smeared it down my neck. Not caring, I took my phone out and snapped a cheeky selfie, checking to make sure you could see the shine in the image. I sent it to Josh, with the caption “I ran out of perfume, so I used your cum.” I felt depraved in the best way.  

When I walked to my next lecture, I felt his cum ooze over the seam of my panties. Other people might panic. It was already quite clear that there was a wet patch on my crotch and between my legs. I didn’t care, I relished the feeling of his cum oozing down my inner thigh. It took everything I had to not skip class. I knew if I did, there would be no way Josh would let me cum. He would have known if I cheated, he always did. The deprivation would have been worse.  


Back in my bed, the boys stir but don’t wake. I can feel the heat radiate off them as I finger my cum covered tummy.  Lazily drawing my finger through it.  Occasionally idly taking a taste. Which triggered a distant memory about my former girlfriend Malia.  

My polyamorous, female-only relationship was full of cummy kisses.  When our mouths were all full of our three-lady cocktail, I’d always be ready to explode again. Malia loved to viciously finger my cunt and blow on my clit for my ‘last’ orgasm of the interlude. Jen would watch, ready to slap my bundle of nerves hard at just the right time to make me buck wildly and scream. I can’t tell you how many times poor Malia got kicked in the head before they started restraining me for that part. Not that the restraints helped, they just added another kink to my basket.  

Malia is bisexual like me. She was generally the good girl, so it was a little bit surprising when out of the two of us – she was the one to cheat with a man. I found out because I’d pulled an all-nighter at the library to get a project finished and printed for submission. I returned home at 11 am to get a kip before my 4 o’clock Microeconomics lecture.  

I knew as soon as I opened the door. Silly girl had let him take his shoes off right at the door. I wasn’t hurt or distressed, I was curious. Hearing him grunting and groaning “Oh yeah baby, ride my cock, fucking take it, yes! Oh!” made me giggle… fine, I didn’t giggle. I bit my lip, slipped out of my shoes, and padded to her room. Nope – she wasn’t there.  

“Jake, oh my God, Jake I’m there!”  

I turned around. The dirty bitch was fucking Jake, my friend, in my bedroom.  

Good girl. 

I peeked through the door but there was no way I could watch without getting caught. Besides, they were just about finished. I waited for his release which followed within seconds of Malia’s cry.  

I couldn’t wait to lick the pussy juice out of my panties, I could feel it against my pussy lips. I gave them a minute to catch their breath when they were done.

Giggling, “Jake, why are you fucking my girlfriend in my bed? Hers is literally across the hall!”  

They both scrambled, rushing to grab items of clothing strewn across the room, each trying to plead their cases. I rolled my eyes, dropping my bags to the floor and placing my precious laptop onto my desk. I strode towards Malia, grabbed her face in my hands, and kissed her harder than I had ever kissed her before. I nibbled and nipped her lip, eliciting that sweet moan I knew so well.  

“Shh, it’s fine, I don’t care. Jen will care, I don’t.” I pecked her gently, turning to Jake, and asked, “Can you catch up with her later? We have to talk and then I really have to sleep.”

“Malia, are you okay? Are you alright with that?” My heart swelled as Jake’s genuine concern for her touched me.  

“I’m okay, Laura’s right – it’s Jen who’ll be mad. I’ll meet you for lunch in a couple of hours…” She glanced at me for permission.  

I rolled my eyes. “She’ll meet you for lunch Jake, just go, mind grab your bag.”  

He scarpered.  

I kissed Malia gently, reassuring her we were fine. I was never going to tell Jen. Right then though, I needed her. Technically, I needed them. 

For me, feasting on a man’s cum inside another woman’s snatch is one of the most addictive depraved acts I’ve ever engaged in. With Malia, I loved every time we did it, but that first time is the time I remember most fondly. I guided Malia to my bed where they had just fucked. Deliberately, I sat her bare ass in a wet patch – probably Jake’s ass or back sweat – before I kissed down her smooth torso. I kissed each of her cute little moles and freckles as I eased her yellow cami up over her head. As I looked down at her sloppy snatch, I leaned forward and nipped at the flesh below her belly button; I groaned audibly.  I could smell the sex. The musky, tell-tale scent. It occurred to me at that moment that it does smell different on someone else. It also dawned on me that I was about to fulfill one of my deepest fantasies. Not exactly a cuckolding fantasy, but certainly the clean-up. 

But the combination of two other people’s smells inside one of my girlfriends… fuck, an erotic fog clouded my brain and I honestly just stopped thinking. This was all about feeling. Malia had a landing strip at the time, it was matted with her cunt juice and a little of his spunk too. She had her hands in my hair; I’m certain she realised what a precious gift she was giving me.  

I inhaled their scent deeply, looking at her as I pressed my nose against the wet matt, and rubbed my nose in it. I kissed her lips and saw fireworks; the naughty mixture touched my soul and I feasted on her like I never had before. I learned a lot about myself then. It wasn’t as simple as just being in love with cum. It was a sensory experience for me. His texture was different from her, but they mixed well together. His was firmer in consistency, hers was like a delicate sauce to compliment it. It was fucking delightful.  

As I just lie here, in my bed of jizz, reminiscing about how I got here, I have to say; I’m so deliriously content. I’ve had the best time telling you some of my stories, maybe some other time I’ll tell you the rest. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy the two cocks on either side of me, and when they wake, we’ll do a whole lot of dirty fuckery again. I’ll lick A’s little star whilst he fucks B’s arse. And in the end, both my dirty little holes will be dripping with our shared cocktail of cum.  I can’t even remember their names. I’m spent.  

I lick my lips and lift my hips to scoop a cocktail of our triad’s cums. I want to suckle on them as I fall asleep. I’ll leave the rest in there – the natural lubrication will help in the morning when both of their cocks fuck my tight ass and juicy cunt in the morning.  

A sudden, ‘Fuck’, screams in my head somewhere.  This was cutting it awfully close. Too close.  I’d probably have to visit the pharmacy again. Or maybe I won’t.  Oh, the thought and the risk sends shivers through my core and I suck harder on my cum soaked fingers.  

My pussy throbs as I anticipate the fun that’s still to come, and the cum I so desperately desire. Drifting off, my thoughts and dreams are dominated by my favourite delicacy. 

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