Darkroom: Backroom or Blackroom, the pleasure in BBR...

It's dark, you just hit a wall. Or rather no, it's elastic, flexible, warm, humid, muscular... A body, a naked body, naked bodies: you are in the middle of a forest of bodies.

Near your skin, a slight movement of air announces a contact: a hand is approaching. She gently touches you, comes closer and caresses you. She runs down your neck, stops for a moment in your hair, ruffles it delicately. Then she grabs them more roughly and pulls your head back. You shiver.

The hand releases its grip, turns back along your neck, pinches you a little, massages your shoulders, then descends along your back, vertebra by vertebra. She slows down as she slides while easing its pressure. She becomes light touch, and stops at this slightly damp spot, where the arch of your butt begins.

She seems to be hesitant about the path to follow. Your shivers increase, your muscles tense. Finally she walk around slowly, getting for a while lost in the middle of these hairs which, far from protecting you, shows her the direction. She grabs your penis. Gentle, back and forth movement.

A mouth replaces her while one hand - another? - is interested in your butt. Fingers enter, an arm bends your head. Everything is speeding up. Obediently, you raise your ass and feel that the fingers have given way to a penis penetrating you. You cum.

Do you see where you are? Already been here? Probably if you're reading this news... In a darkroom. A black-room or back-room. I like both names: one refers to the blackness of these places, the other to their location. Let's call it the black-back-room. A BBR.

Do you like the bestiality of the place? In a BBR, no sight, this sense you don’t need: everything is dark, you see nothing, you are blind. While you're there, also clear your identity, your memories, everything that makes you and relax. Becomes a body, just a body, as in an uterus, an overcrowded uterus where multi-twin is required.

Accept this regression. You are hearing, touch and smell. The taste will come, but in a second step.

Hearing rustling, brushing, slow blows, quickening blows, screams, moans, no words, no voices, just breathing.

Touch: abandon your mind, forget control and let your hand guide itself in this sensory labyrinth, allow it to meet the bodies that are there, to discover their geography, their shape, fat or not, muscular or not, hairy or hairless, big or small, their rhythm.

Smell to give relief to your touch: sniff this skin, its acidity, its moisture. Like the ant, relearn the pheromones of life, train yourself to recognize the scent of each skin.

Yes, a skin because, in a BBR, no one is a person, there is no more brain, even head, just bits of bodies, sex, pieces of skin. So do not be afraid, you are not there either, there’s nothing but anonymous pieces.

Taste finally: the skin you just licked, that sex in your mouth, sweat, lips, ...

Let yourself go. Are you scarred? Of you? Of your fantasies? To reveal yourself, to realize that you like wild and anonymous sex? To return to this sexual womb?

Caress or be caressed, sucked or sucked. Your choice. Self-service, cumming in the dark without knowing thanks to whom.

The other is nothing more than the extension of your own desire, amplifying and multiplying it: his hand is your hand, his body is your body, mental splitting.

But his hand is new and undisciplined, his body is unknown and takes unexpected initiatives. As if your imagination took its independence, was imbodied, caressed you, touched you. Masturbation by proxy. The BBR is a temple of disincarnation, of the negation of the other, of self-abandonment.

Difficult for some to let go. Too many barriers in their head, in their body. Forbidden from childhood, forbidden from life, forbidden from society. The dark, the anonymity are blocking, scary, afraid of coming face to face with one's impulses, of regressing, of becoming animal again.

When leaving a BBR, you are confronting to the body with which you have just played. Impression of reliving the surprises that we bought a long time ago in bakeries without knowing what was inside. As quickly consumed as the surprise, the body found is only a disposable toy, used only once. No interest in understanding who the other is since he does not really exist, has no existence beyond my own desire: he is doomed to be abandoned after enjoyment. At the same time, symmetry since each is also only the pretext for the enjoyment of the other, balance in negation.

Until the next BBR...