I’ve dreamed of being a man slut for so many years but wondered if it was ever really in me – pardon the pun. I think I now know the answer.
I have taken pleasure from fucking many female sluts in my time, especially in my 20’s. Later in life I did find women that warranted respect but loved being slutty when the opportunity presented itself. I’ve had mfm and fmf meets but I was always the dominant one of any encounter. I always did wonder what it would be like on the receiving end.
Fast forward 20 years and I suddenly became obsessed with other men’s cocks, although even now I have never had a fuck from a real cock. Some of you reading this will be only too aware of the meets I’ve had with men, I go on about them so much – I love that you guys like to hear about them and watch me on webcam. However until the meet with the farmer a few weeks back, for all the meets I’ve had with men I have been the dom, the most outgoing, first to rise to the challenge, first to get naked – and too often the first to shoot my load, oops. I’ve had two group meets with men and enjoyed the attention, and the cum – oh the cum mmmmmmm.
Even the men I’ve met that are more experienced than me, that claimed to be dom and said all the right things have turned out to be reticent and timid – many claimed it’s that I insist on outdoor meets, which may well be true. Some flatter me by saying they don’t measure up. A lot of guys have told me they’d meet me but not outdoors.
Anyway, I have been wanting to meet hung dominant men for far too long and have been desperate for a stranger to come on to me in the street or woodlands I frequent, who knows nothing about me to seduce me, flirt with me, take control of me. I have had getting my ass a dam good gangfucking at the top of my To-do list for many years.
And then it happened! Well some of it. You may have already read my account of the meet with my monster truck driving farmer.
As is was during lockdown I have chastised myself many times for taking such risks, for being so stupid; not stupid though for taking an opportunity that presented itself to explore a long held fantasy, I finally did something for me, that is me, it felt right.
If you’ve read about it you’ll know it was such a fabulous experience in so many ways but that it came to a premature and immediate end.
I came to my senses afterwards and for a few weeks didn’t put temptation in the way of common sense and did not go out on my bike for fear of seeing him again and not being able to stop myself from whatever he has in mind for me. He left me in no doubt he has some wild adventures for me to enjoy.
I have never stopped re-living the meet and despite its brevity I still smile to myself thinking about what we did – especially now enough time has passed that I know I haven’t suffered any health consequences. I have fucked myself silly with toys many times since to relive the experience.
It has been 5 weeks. I think, now and yesterday I went out that way on my bike again. I knew if he saw me and wanted to pick up where we left of no matter how much I told myself no, I’d have been ever bit as easy as I was last time, yet despite the risks being just as high I went out. Crazy? No doubt about it but….
I had seen the farmer in the weeks following that day driving in and around the village as if on the hunt but as I wasn’t on my bike I guess he didn’t recognise me, he has only seen me in my cycling lycra – and, of course, butt naked bar a face covering lol – and believe it or not I was wearing my cycling helmet throughout. Only realised that just now!
I was nearing the track to his barn which is on an extremely narrow track with no verge and high hedges when I heard the familiar sound of his truck. The throb of the engine was soon joined by the throb in my cock – was I about to have the best sexual experience of my life?
I didn’t want to stop, or let on I knew it was his truck so I carried on with the truck held up behind me. ‘YOU FILTHY FUCKING COCK WHORE’, I heard from an unfamiliar voice obviously coming from the truck.
Had my farmer told someone about our meet, he promised he wouldn’t.
At that moment there was a gate, so some space, and I stopped. The truck came alongside and pulled up. The passenger said ‘So this isn’t your slut?’. The farmer must have told him I wasn’t when he shouted out to me but obviously he had told his passenger about meeting a local cyclist. The farmer apologised to me as if he didn’t know me, the passenger said nothing so perhaps wasn’t convinced.
As they drove off the passenger did a hand gesture out of the window that made it quite clear the farmer told him exactly what we did by making a wank gesture with one hand and a finger fuck gesture with the other. The farmer waved out of his window too.
I should be furious a guy I felt I could trust and was looking forward to having many sexual adventures with has let me down so soon but for whatever reason the fact he has told this guy everything but defended my wish for secrecy when confronted is making me think he is possibly more honourable if anything. After all I have told all you lot about the fun we had! Am I deluded? Am I the filthy fucking cock whore I was being accused of being? Between you and me I absolutely loved being verbally abused and so wanted to tell him that’s exactly what I am.