So I've been writing to this guy online. I was really horny one day and spotted a post with his cock as the main feature but not the sole attraction. I wanked while I looked at his pictures and read all his comments. It was a short post, but I came twice. He shared a conversation with a guy that was simply fantastic. 

I took a risk and started messaging him. I wanted to suck his dick so bad, thinking about the conversation he had had with the other poster. The only thing is that he is in America and I am in Australia, So all we had was our talk online, unless I win lotto and can visit him. I am a lot of a bottom. My absolute favourite fantasy is watching my wife fuck a train of guys while being very verbal about it, both to me and to them, licking her pussy clean, and while I am doing this and pulling my cock, she pisses on me and laughs. So I am no stranger to the darker side of the web. I have seen two women, one cup. 

My friend replied, and we back and forthed a fair bit. We are still back and forthing. We are sharing experiences, mine being mainly from history and fantasy but with come contemporary items thrown in. As you can doubtless guess, I can write. I am very graphic in my descriptions of what went on. He can write too, although his entries have been much shorter, which is a good thing. He describes his activities with a rich, contemporary style and very vivid too boot. I enjoy reading them. To tell the truth, I could certainly have more because he very much turns me on with his tales of fucking and imagining me in place of the partner. But there is more. He abuses me online, and I love it. Even now, while waiting for his reply to my latest missive, I am not thinking of him fucking another person, I am thinking of the abuse he will heap on my head as he tells me what he did was my fault, how I am cum drain, how I am fuck pig. I wank over every line.

I was a little shocked at first. I have shared in correspondence before, I have shared in correspondence before. but never with this level of raw, passionate abuse. I am surprised how much I enjoy being called a cum drain. Starting most messages with an address to a fuck pig, he goes on and intersperses his message with various descriptions along a theme of me being a degenerate fuck pig and cum slut. And I enjoy it. I log on every chance I get, growing hard with anticipation. Alas when I discover my keenness has outrun his messaging. I am forced to re-read his old messages. 

So this degenerate fuck pig and cumslut will share with you the latest tales I have. And if you are inspired to leave a message, by all means do. 

I have read your latest message. The thought of you wrecking that married guy and sending texts to his wife has me really excited. But there is something else on my mind. You wrote you shared my message with your crew before you went to work on some random. It really excites me. I imagine writing to you some secret, deep fantasy, and then having your crew read it before setting down to work making it a reality, all turned on and poppered up. 

In fact, it so turned me on that I had to do something about it, sore arse be dammed. A sore arse does not affect my mouth. I went online and found a site. It is a long way, but it has the advantage of me never visiting it before. It also has the advantage of being visited by rough tradies- so straight guys looking for faggots to suck them dry. I head over, getting hornier as it gets closer.

I arrive and scout out the location. This sort of activity may not be illegal, but there is always the possibility of bashers. There are a couple of guys discreetly keeping their distance, but they look like regulars. This is a good sign, no waiting for me. I decide I am not going to be bashed and head in. It's a strange set up, but immediately I realise why it is empty. Your anonimity is protected only if you do not want to leave. You literaly have to push past horny tradesmen to get out of here. My rectum, still stretched and hurting, tightens up. I am thinking about going when I hear a noise in the doorway. I could just pass myself off as a suckee, disappointed nobody is here, but the thought of being rough fucked when full of semen is just too tempting. I jump into the alcove and slam the door shut.

The next couple of hours are a desirous blur. Normally you can keep track, but the stream of cocks here is endless. Admittedly it starts slow, just the few guys outside taking their sweet time to come in and stick their dicks through the hole. But soon the tradie grapevine is alerted to a new slut in their hole, and the procession starts. I barely have to suck. It's a wide hole. and the guys take advantage of the access this gives. The person in the boof is umimportant, only the people lined up. After the sixth or seventh cock has deposited its seed do I understand. The person in the boof is a faggot. He may not be a cum drain, but he is a slut. This is designed to fulfill the desires of the people outside, while giving the faggot plenty of opportunity to reflect on whether he is gay or a faggot. 

You would be proud. I am a faggot. A cum dump, slutty faggot. I took the following cocks driven into my sluts maw like it was life itself. I couldn't believe how degenerate I became. I was wanking dicks over my body while I recovered. I was sucking all the dicks I could get. And I have to admit. I worked my asshole in preparation for the moment I was going to leave. In the end, I was being mouth raped, no longer able to suck but way too slutty to care as long as most of the resulting orgasm went down my throat. 

After what seemed like hours, I steeled myself to leave. Covered in jizz and naked from the waist down, I opened the door to the cubicle. No one. My rectum, which hurt from the working over I had inflicted on it. relaxed. I would have to really think about a second visit, but one thing was certain: when you call me a faggot cum slut, you can really mean it.