Adventures of a Cum Slut

Story by Marc Oranje on 13 Sep 2006


Soon after my thirteenth birthday, I discovered my cock. All seven throbbing inches of it. About four times a day.

It was pretty much about then that I discovered something else too. Something sticky, salty and creamy. Something my body seemed able to produce in copious amounts every time I jerked off. Something which would change my life forever.

That something, of course, was - cum.

For a while, my own satisfaction had to suffice. Naturally. After all, I was a virgin and living in the wilds of New Brunswick was unlikely to change that unfortunate fact. So like most young teens, I had to be content with my own manipulation. And, for that matter, with my own spunk. Which, as I soon discovered, was a peculiar delicacy. Especially when I was feeling hot and dirty. When nothing but tight-fisted masturbation would appease my horny fantasies.

It was just as well, then, that I appeared to have two remarkable physical capabilities. Both of which assisted in the feverish consumption of my own wads.

The first was my ability to arch my back forwards at the point of climax, so that the end of my cock was no more than an inch or so from my open mouth. Not exactly self-suck, granted. But an impressive advantage in respect of my particular craving.

The second was the very gift of youth. The sheer virile craft of geyser-like eruptions. Pulsing from the groin with violent energy, so that each bolt of ecstasy spurts with volcanic force from the straining, wanton eye.

No measly dribbles. No tired, middle-aged drools. Just bolt after rapturous bolt of thick, effortless boy-honey. Arching proudly skywards, before landing with generous splats upon whatever naked flesh is exposed. Which in my case was always my tongue. Just a hair-breath's distance from the source of the outburst. Thirsty for cum. Just aching to feel the heavy roll of jizz as it pours towards my tonsils and into the darkness beyond. Before trickling down my gullet and into my hungry stomach.

By the time I was eighteen, I had tasted and swallowed more cum than most guys might hope to take in a lifetime. But it was still all my own nectar. By now my private desires were becoming so insatiable that not even my over-productive balls could produce the quantity of baby-batter to satisfy my almost insatiable appetite.

Besides, years of speculation had left me wondering what it would be like to indulge in the offerings of another man. To suck the fertile riches from his crotch. To work his balls until the tubes were drained and empty.

Above all, to be in full communion with another human being and to have his juices inside me. Feeding me. Strengthening me. Filling me as only ball-snot can.

Which is why I quit college, left home - and headed for the bright lights of Toronto.

I hadn't a clue what I was gonna do when I got there, but I'm nothing if not resourceful and soon got a job working behind a bar in the city's gay quarter.

Which is where I met Pete, the bar manager. Ten years older than me, but uncommonly good-looking. Tall, dark - and with an air of self-assurance that I just knew testified to a pair of fine, healthy balls in those sexy jeans of his.

Not that I was able to verify that private assertion on our first encounter. But by our second night serving drinks together we had already developed a notable connection, with him passing comment on my 'tight, sexy bubble butt' and me confessing that I was still a virgin and hadn't so much as seen another guy's cock.

Which perhaps explains why he took it on himself to expose his rather impressive seven-and-a-half inch offering - an act that not only visibly encouraged the punters, but which left me in no doubt as to where I wanted to be nuzzling that night. I mean, Pete's cock was gorgeous. Thick, deeply-veined and uncut. There was not a single doubt in my mind that it wouldn't produce copious quantities of the cum that I privately yearned for.

I knew Pete would take my cherry that night. Just as he had with so many new boys behind his bar, I felt sure.

'You fancy a coffee ...?' he casually quipped, once the doors had closed. Knowing full well that I was gagging only for sex.

'Actually, no ...' I teased.

For once he looked surprised. 'You don't ...?'

I stepped towards him - a tad more confident than my inexperience should've allowed. 'I'd prefer to sup on something a little more - tasty ...'

His dark eyes flashed in recognition. 'Tasty ...?' he teased.

'Let's put it this way,' I continued. 'I don't believe in spitting ...'

We slipped upstairs. Into his bedroom, where we promptly pulled away our clothes and fell together in a sweaty mass onto the silk sheets of his mattress.

We kissed. An open, almost desperate kiss. Exchanging our bodily fluids. Running our tongues against each other. Whilst our cocks pulsed and throbbed, our cum-sacs tightened.

Indeed, it was the thought of those yet-undiscovered reaches that quickly led me to explore Pete's lean frame. Forcing my head down to his erect nipples and to the quaint line of hair between them.

I played with them momentarily. Whilst my boss arched his body in excitement - eager, I felt sure, for me to move towards his treasure trail and to the glories beyond. Indeed, I could hardly deny my eagerness to reach that most intimate quarter and, trailing the tip of my tongue to his navel, I reached out and clasped his swollen shaft, already drooling with a handsome flow of pre-cum. Little surprise that I should lick my lips in anticipation of the delicious nourishment to come.

'Fuck, that looks good ...' I groaned, pulling myself towards my goal. Noting that his balls did indeed look large and engorged with pure liquid protein.

'You like hard cock, dude?'

'Love it,' I assured, now rolling my hand up and down his pole - forcing a large pearl of fresh excitement to the head. 'Especially when it gives me hot, fresh cream ...'

'Gees, man, I can give you plenty of that.'

I glanced up to look him in the eye, finally trickling the end of my tongue against his crimson crown. 'That a promise?' I quizzed.

I'm not exactly sure whether he ever truly believed that this was my first time, but in fairness I don't think he really cared. All that mattered to him was that he had some young pup on the end of his shaft, sucking the life out of his manhood. Believe me, that was exactly what I soon doing. Drawing his helmet into my mouth, before slurping and drooling up and down its length. By which time I was half way to paradise.

Just to have my tongue around his thick, aching member was one thing. But to taste the sweetness of his oozing, excited tubes was quite another. Indeed, it wasn't at all long before my mouth was literally frothing from the sticky forerunner. At which point I raised myself up and kissed Pete on the lips. Forcing the salty taste into his own, quivering mouth.

Seconds later and I had returned to the source of my pleasure. But by now Pete was clearly curious of my own hard appendage and, pulling himself over me, slid into sixty-nine position. As such, he started to feed off my proud boner, whilst I continued to inhale his thick offering, forcing it as far down my throat as I possibly could.

We were, it seemed, a perfect circle. Enjoined in all directions. Not that I had real affection for this guy, it must be said. True, he was a handsome enough stud, whose manhood was more than enough to satisfy me at that time. But this was, above all, a purely physical arrangement and the only thing about Pete I really craved was the contents of his fuzzy cum-bag. So long as he satisfied me in that respect, then I would be more than happy with our present relationship.

What's more, I think the guy was astute enough to realise this. Or at least if the way he was now pounding my mouth was anything to go by. For there was simply no disputing the almost frantic nature of his thrusts, whilst I hung on ever-tighter with my lips, hoping and praying that his spray would soon be forthcoming. That my wait for the first mouthful of cum from another guy would soon be at an end.

I was not to be disappointed. Within just a few more heated seconds I could sense that the guy was now reaching his climax, as he let my own hard cock slip from his lips and then rapturously groaned and spluttered. What's more, his shaft flexed like steel upon my tongue, whilst his boy-glands tightened so far into his crotch that they almost disappeared.

This was the moment I had been waiting for all my young life. When another dude spurted his thick, tasty cream down to the back of my throat.

Yet despite such eager anticipation, I still remained unsure as to what to expect. Indeed, it wasn't until the first angry bolt of cum erupted from Pete's fuming eye-hole, rocketing towards my tonsils with almost spiteful energy, that I fully and finally realised just how much this act of kink turned me on. For my throat seemed to open up like a drain, so that the thick spume of seed was immediately gobbled down my gullet. Followed, it must be said, by a series of equally generous blasts. Whilst all the time my mouth clenched firmly to the fellow's shaft, pumping it for all its precious sauce. Pete gasping his appreciation from above - amazed perhaps that he had witnessed such adeptness in my sordid perversion.

By the time the full fury of the storm had passed, trickles of creamy spunk were dribbling from the corner of my mouth. Happy testimony to the sheer volume that Pete's swollen love-tubes had produced.

Indeed, it was at that very point - lying content with a bellyful of fresh cum - that I first truly realised that my particular tastes need no longer be a selfish devotion.

That I might serve the needs of countless horny studs, whose balls were constantly brimming with sweet elixir and whose darkest desire was to have it sucked from them by someone like myself.

Guys like Pete. Who actually got as turned on by being blown and drained as I was by performing the task. Guys who had no desire to sow their seed in the hope of having babies, but whose kink instead was to have their kid-broth savoured by a fiendish cum-taster like myself.

For believe me, I was left in no doubt that night that my boss was seriously enamoured of my performance. For no sooner had he turned to look at my sticky face, than he urged a repetition of the performance by thrusting his cock back into my mouth and demanding that I bring him off a second time. Which I did somewhat effortlessly.

What's more, I think the subsequent load was even tastier than the first. Not quite as salty. Maybe even slightly sugary. The perfect antidote to any sense of sex-fatigue.

Indeed, what followed during the remainder of our encounter was surely incredible. As we engaged in what can only be described as an endless round of sordid fornication.

For having already cum twice, Pete proceeded to insist on fucking me - with a cock that still appeared to show little sign of abandoning its rigid, pulsing nature.

No surprise then that I should wonder whether he'd taken something to maintain such a magnificent hard-on, but in fairness I suspect that he was just one very horny bastard.

That said, I found I had no difficulty in keeping up with the guy and in the process of him finally penetrating my greedy man-cunt with his thick, manly cock, spurted several loads of fresh jizz myself. Spraying them over the bed-clothes, which I later licked clean with my tongue. After all, it seemed a terrible pity to let such bounty go to waste.

By the time morning dawned, we'd fucked, sucked, licked and rimmed ourselves to paradise and back several times and even Pete's wanton cock was finally spent.

Our balls were equally drained. His especially, given that I had forced four loads from those magnificent orbs. Almost every drop of which had rolled over my tongue and slipped effortlessly down into my stomach.

You know what? I didn't feel the slightest bit nauseous, as perhaps I might have expected. Rather I felt fulfilled. Content. In complete fellowship with another guy.

Not that I was in love with Pete.

Oh true, he was very sexy. What's more, he did have a libido to die for.

But I'd have been stretching the truth to say that I loved him.

Besides I don't think he ever really loved me, though we did manage to have quite a lot of mindless sex over the next few days. During which I pretty much swallowed a gallon of the dude's baby-sap.

But it was lust, not love. To prove it, I walked in on the guy a couple of weeks later to find the mouth of some cute, blond twink attached to the end of his hard shaft.

I'm not exactly sure whether Pete expected me to be angry, but the coy look on his face certainly suggested that.

What's more, there was distinct relief when I laughed and told the stranger to continue. Pulling away at my clothes as I did so, before tumbling naked on the bed to join the pair in their antics.

Because, let's face it, why should I have felt annoyed? After all, it isn't every day that you get to enjoy the contents of two cum-sacs - and that's exactly what I was thinking as I sprang into their company that afternoon.

As such, I had a boner the size of a tenpin as I latched onto the new guy's offering, which itself was certainly not to be overlooked. Seven solid inches of rampant male finery, with a nicely cut head that exposed a shiny, bulbous end. What drew my attention the most, however, was the rich trail of pre-cum that was already trickling from the eye-hole, which I sniffed out like a fox at a hen-coop. Seconds on and I was sliding my tongue over the source of the nectar. Lapping at the salty flow as if my very life depended on it.

My devotion was quickly rewarded. For no sooner had I begun to engulf the freshman's head, than a thick ooze of pre-cum flowed from that gaping slit and covered my taste-buds. A delicious scent of man-sex, which only made me hungrier for more.

So I began to flick my tongue into the hole directly. Whilst tightly rolling my hand up and down the shaft, so as to force as much broth as possible up his swollen urethra.

In the meantime, Pete - who was currently being blown by his unnamed visitor - had forced his way towards my own throbbing cock and was now sucking the end for his own source of nectar. As a result, the three of us had almost unconsciously created a frenzied triangle of debauchery. Sucking for all our might on each others' shafts. Whilst filling the air with a magnificent chorus of slurps and groans. The sound of manly satisfaction.

All this gorgeous cock worship was making me feel like one truly horny bitch. My mind consumed with the thought of all the cum that was contained in those tight, fuzzy balls of my friends. All that cum that I could swish around my mouth, before consuming as if it were candy.

Indeed, for the very first time in my life I actually felt like a complete slut. A whore. A wanton tramp who would literally prostitute himself in the pursuit of lashings of fresh man-cream. A perverted harlot, who lived for the sticky taste of seed in his belly.

Yes, this was my fetish. A dangerous one, perhaps - which in itself made it all the more appealing. But one that I wanted to indulge in. To indulge in completely.

Until every manly orb was dry.

Until there was no more spunk to savour.

Until my every orifice was dripping with white, heavenly lashings.

Until the very stale stench of cum almost made me sick.

I bounded up before them now, breaking the magic circle. Then sat on all fours on the bed, looking for all the world like a guy in need of real hard breeding.

'Gees, I wanna be fucked!' I exclaimed, almost like an animal on heat. Thrusting my rump in the air so that my pucker was literally screaming for attention.

'You that fuckin' hot?' Pete smirked, relishing my request for attention. Which, as I had discovered, he was only too willing to give.

'Fuck, yeah ...' I groaned. Licking my finger and then reaching back to thrust it into my own crack. 'I need a cock both ends, man! I need to be spit-roasted like a fucking pig!'

Pete had never seen me this horny, I'm sure. But it was more than enough to get both him and his pal worked up into quite a frenzy. For indeed before I had chance to realise, my boss had slipped up behind me and worked the end of his aching shaft into my ass. Whilst the blond forced his way to the front of me, thrusting his hips into my face. Giving me over half-a-foot of raw meat to consume.

Which I did with some real pride, I can assure you. Sucking the entire length of ass-filler into my mouth, as Pete rammed harder and deeper into my guts. Stretching and filling the shit-tube like he just didn't fucking care.

Which suited me fine. Because all I wanted was their cream. All I required was a mouthful of man-milk to swallow and a butt-load of jizz to dribble down my legs. Just at that precise moment I had two very willing bucks to fulfil the fantasy.

I don't know whether my slit was a little too tight, my lips too eager, but it wasn't at all long before both of those frenzied breeders were reaching the point of no return. Their raw excitement becoming too much for their swollen cum-cells, which by now were no doubt pulsing and churning in anticipation.

Indeed, I couldn't help but relish the prospect at hand and pushing the cock in my mouth even nearer to the back of my throat, I laboured for the first splatter of tasty cum.

All the time Pete hammered away behind me. Touching parts of my innards that had surely never been touched before and which soon would be smeared with a gross but wonderful coating of gland-juice.

No fucking wonder that I should be boasting a raging hard-on myself. Though my desire for creamy refreshment was so great that I almost barely noticed!

Instead, I continued to gyrate my hips hard into Pete's groin, whilst slurping on the thick cock that was knocking against the back of my throat. Because that way I knew I would get the injections of fresh cum that I so desperately craved.

Pete's friend started to groan now. Tossing his head in apparent rapture, as his balls began to tighten and restrict. Pushing his delicious broth towards its ultimate goal.

Whilst I gobbled away at his man-rod, lapping at the piss-hole that would (at any given second) reward me for my efforts. Relaxing my throat in anticipation of the deluge.

'Oh fuck!' he finally exclaimed, unable to contain his tubes any longer. 'Fuck man, I'm gonna cum! Gees -'

That's it, I thought. Let it all out. Let me take it all in my mouth. Let me swallow every gorgeous drop of your sweet ecstasy! Come on baby, give me your spunk - now!

It was almost as if he could read my thoughts. For within a split second the venomous rupture had begun, with the first heady spurt of jizz rocketing from the head of his cock to the back of my mouth. A moment later and a second bolt emerged. Blasting across the length of my tongue and promptly following the initial squirt down my hungry gullet.

While I continued to lap on his pulsing shaft, knowing that there was plenty more cream where the first two wads had come from. Indeed, the guy was on something of a roll now, as a third, fourth and fifth explosion cascaded in my direction - all of which I gobbled down like a dirty bitch. What's more, my performance was clearly proving to be too much for Pete, who by now was also exclaiming his manly intent in no uncertain terms.

So as my mouth continued to receive one engorged load, my rectum took hold of another. With Pete gasping for breath as he prepared to cream himself.

'Take my fucking load, you fucking cum-slut!' he yelled, banging my rump so hard that his balls smacked against my own like a Newton's Cradle.

'And swallow that fucking load in your mouth!' he continued desperately, whilst gripping my ass with such force that his fingernails almost tore into my flesh. An act that, if anything, simply encouraged me in my obsession for hot cum all the more.

Indeed, I needed Pete's ball-snot like never before now and could think of nothing other than the prospect of it filling my bowels with its unrivalled goodness. For I had pretty much taken everything that his friend had had to offer by this point and had done as Pete had instructed by consuming every sticky drop offered. But my butt was still decidedly empty in comparison - a situation that I guess was not destined to continue for very much longer!

To prove my point, Pete duly obliged. Grunting his brutal satisfaction, as his man-glands finally yielded their rich, fertile contents. Filling me up like I was a cheap whore.

Mind, let's face it. That was pretty much an accurate description of me by now.

Indeed, what happened next was fairly fitting to the way others viewed my character. As Pete flipped me over onto my back, then parted my legs and pushed them into the air, so that he and his pal could use their fingers to scoop as much cum as possible out of my frothy slit.

'Open wide then, cum pig!' Pete grinned, with a handful of his baby-splat to share.

'Yeah,' the blond encouraged, with an equal measure of brew, 'suck it all down!'

Which is exactly what I did. Throwing my tongue right out so as to take every last drip of Pete's fizz. Before gulping it into my belly with a very contented smile on my lips.

'That real tasty ...?' Pete finally teased, as I lay sucking their fingers.

I nodded my approval. 'Yeah ...' I groaned. Feeling full, yet yearning for more.

'You really are one sick dude!' he then laughed. 'You know that?'

'Of course!' I agreed, before admitting that I could never get enough of the stuff.

Pete's gave a devilish smile. 'That so?' he acknowledged, glancing across to his friend. His mind clearly whirring into overdrive, but choosing to say nothing more.

Indeed, several weeks passed after that particular evening without any indication of what Pete might be planning. During which time I was pretty much a loose-cannon on the scene. Meeting up one night with one guy and sucking him dry, then another the next. Fuck knows how much sperm I savoured, but one thing was for sure - I couldn't get enough of the magical nectar! For my appetite was insatiable, as I was shortly to demonstrate.

Be it sweet spunk or salty spunk. Thick, gloopy spunk or runny, watery spunk. It didn't matter to me. So long as it came squirting out of hard, throbbing cocks and filled either my belly or my bowels, I didn't really care.

Which is perhaps just as well, given what was to happen.

For unbeknown to me, Pete was organising a lock-in at the bar with a difference. A rampant, no-holds-barred orgy that would involve in excess of fifty very horny guys and which would not only bring my ultimate fantasy to life, but also confirm my status as a number one cum-slut.

It began innocuously enough. With an apparently innocent cell-call from my boss, asking me to come over to his flat above the bar. True, it was late. But there was nothing to directly raise my suspicions and it was only when I arrived and was escorted by Pete into the crowded bar of half-naked studs that I first began to wonder what was planned.

'We've been having a bit of a collection for you over the last few days,' Pete finally explained. 'Something I think a guy like you is really going to appreciate ...'

With that I was presented with a pint glass. Filled not with beer, as one might expect. But almost to the brim with spunk. A whole pint of nad-juice, for my own delectation.

I didn't need to be told what to do. I mean let's face it man, I'd lived for this moment ever since I could ever remember and there was no way that I was gonna let the side down now by asking for instructions.

As such, I grabbed hold of the glass and sniffed the heady brew. Then lifted it to my lips and started to drink. Gulping the briny goodness down, whilst the guys around me began to cheer their wild appreciation.

'Go, boy, go!' they yelled emphatically. Whilst I carried on, never stopping for breath. An achievement that appeared only to encourage the crowd all the more.

Finally, I supped the dregs and raised the glass in victory. Wiping my spunky lips as I did so. Pete later informed me that it had taken over one hundred shots to fill that glass, donated over a week by his customers and kept in his freezer until that evening - but right then statistics hardly mattered. Because now my boss had taken me by the hand and led me through the mass of guys to the next stage of our entertainment: a leather sling, which (having stripped me of my clothes) I was promptly chained into.

I was completely at the mercy of all those guys now, with my legs strapped high and parted and my tender pucker fully exposed for all to see. But there was no denying that it was a dream come true. Noting that several of the dudes were already slipping out of their clothes and that one guy had even brought a camcorder to capture the occasion, I sank back into the harness so as to enjoy the full extent of the ride.

A thick, hard cock fell into my face. Whilst a drop of lube greased my man-cunt. Before I knew it, I was being buggered in all directions. With a shaft pumping my mouth, another pummelling me up the rear and a bevy of cocks for me to hold in each hand. What's more, the guys quickly began to change places, so that my ass found itself accommodating a succession of hard weapons. Some big, some not so big. Some cut, some uncut. But all more than capable of producing the one substance that I loved so very much and which had brought me to this moment.

Needless to say, it wasn't long before that heavenly essence began to show itself once again. With several of the guys shooting up my once-tight hole and making it sloppy and oh-so-very-tempting in the process.

As such, few of the guys there seemed able to thrust their hips more than a dozen times before blowing. Whilst those around my head jerked themselves off into my mouth, matting my eyes and much of my hair in the creamy stench in the process.

All the time, such perversion was accompanied by gasping and grunting. Whilst the camera played nonchalantly away, recording load after generous load of liquid ecstasy.

Fuck knows how much jizz I took that night. But by the time the mob was spent, cum was dripping from my every orifice and my stomach was filled to bursting with a thick layer of man-seed. Whatever the exact volume, it was surely some kind of record!

Little wonder that I should have such a broad smile on my handsome face. Or that Pete should declare me as the cum-king of Toronto and that my 'act' would be a regular feature of his bar in future.

So it has proved. Which is just as well, given that my craving for spunk remains as passionate and intense as ever.

What's more, my all-too-frequent protein injections appear to have boasted Pete's profits several-fold. Testimony, it would appear, to my unquestionable taste for lashings of that most intimate of male secretions.

So if you're ever in Toronto, call in at Pete's bar. You're sure of a warm welcome, especially if you come with stuffed balls and a willingness to deposit your load of hot cum.

After all, I'm never happier than when I'm full and satisfied. Brimming with the cherished nectar, with the taste still fresh on my tongue.

For I am nothing less than a walking, talking sperm-bank. Guaranteed to suck every life-giving tadpole from your sweaty crotch, before swallowing with a happy gulp.

Not bad for a one-time virgin from the wilds of New Brunswick.

Yeah, guys. I hope to see you all real soon ...