I found out that I was different during my college days while talking about sex with my two roommates. One of them was telling us about having blown off a guy at a party the previous night, something all three of us seemed to enjoy doing, but then she protested about him going too deep.
“Too deep?” I asked, confused as to why this would be a problem.
“Yeah, you know, I began gagging. It was a mess,” she replied as if I hadn’t heard her right. That wasn’t what I was talking about. I asked her why on earth she’d gag. I had sucked off countless guys since I moved into college, adoring the way those cocks feel inside my mouth, their musky scent, and the way they grunt and moan as I let their bulbous heads roll down my throat.
I had never even thought people might be dealing with gag reflex, figuring everyone could deep-throat with the same ease that I had. That night I suddenly comprehended why all those men I had given head to were so impressed and sometimes even grateful.
Ever since then, I began to truly appreciate my unique skill, boasting about it to every single guy I went out on a date with, and sometimes, just random people I met at parties. I adored watching their expression go from surprise to skepticism to arousal.
Many told me they weren’t buying it, and honestly, I think that maybe they were just trying to appeal to my competitive side. Others begged for a demonstration. Either way, I was all too happy to oblige.
Did my impromptu confession ever land me in sticky situations? Oh, of course, it did, and I’m actually quite proud of every one of those encounters. I learned I didn’t have to go a single week without getting on my knees and taking a dick down my throat, feeling it throbbing inside me. Every single one has different scents, taste, and size to explore. Some are smaller, others larger, and a few even slightly crooked. I loved exploring all of them, rolling my tongue around their shaft, bobbing my head up and down their length.
Of course, I always keep my eyes wide open and stare up at them, wanting to see their reaction when my nose got buried against their laps, as every inch of their dicks, no matter how big or small, was finally tucked away safely inside my mouth. Waves of desire and pleasure never failed to rush up and down my body, making my pussy as wet as their drool-coated cocks.
Don’t get me wrong, I also adore riding a thick, throbbing cock, but even that doesn’t provide me with as much sexual satisfaction, as much pleasure, and desire as sucking one-off. There is something deviously delicious about that bulbous head sliding down my throat, my tongue rolling around that shaft, and sometimes, when I was feeling especially naughty, I even tried to get a lick at their balls as well, just to see them react.
So it was no surprise I got myself in messy situations, sometimes quite literally. Drool and precum oozed down my chin, staining my dress, or my bare tits, depending on the location.
I remember that lawyer with the big office and the even bigger dick who adored having me kneel down between his legs while he worked on his cases. He had this huge mahogany desk with more than enough room for both his legs and my whole body to comfortably fit underneath.
Then there was the chef, handsome and kinky. He was one of the ones who didn’t believe me at first, and of course, I was more than up to prove him wrong. He covered his dick with whipped cream and I licked every single drop off before plunging his entire length inside my mouth. His cum tasted sweeter than most other men I’ve gone down on, too.
And oh, how many guys sat in the driver’s seat while I leaned sideways in lover’s lanes? Or rested their backs against a back alley’s wall, grunting and moaning for me to keep going, begging to make them cum as I crouched between their open legs?
Is it too pervy that I keep a journal detailing the different men I’ve sucked off? Their sizes, girth, how long they lasted before coating my mouth and throat with their seed, and many other arousing peculiarities. It wasn’t a competition, not one bit. Bigger dicks have their charm, of course, as they allow me to challenge myself, to see just how deep I can truly take them down my throat, but every single one is delicious and tempting to me.
This one guy simply couldn’t wait for the party to be over, and so we sneaked into the bathroom and hid inside the tub. I made him cum right then and there, as he face-fucked me roughly, pulling at my hair and calling me a naughty girl. I loved every second of it and gulped down his cum dutifully.
Soon a few other men heard of my feat and I have to admit, I went home having swallowed more than my fair share of spunk that night. It was incredibly satisfactory, and what surprised them the most, other than my complete lack of gag reflex, was the fact that I orgasmed repeatedly throughout the night, without needing to stroke my clit or get my pussy stuffed at any point.
I’m not a believer in monogamy, so of course, I’ve gotten into a few pickles when a married guy came my way. A wedding ring won’t change the fact that I have no gag reflex, and oh, most of the men I reveal this to can’t help themselves. Temptation is too powerful, after all. I’ve gotten a few calls from angry wives, but is it really my fault their husbands decided to stray? I feel kind of bad for them, though, and offer to give them a few tips on how to give better head. It’s surprising how many hang up the phone the instant I utter those words!
Well, it’s their loss. There is something so satisfying, and irresistible about gulping down a fully erect cock, comparing its taste, girth, and scent to all others I’ve enjoyed before.
How many cocks have I sucked since I discovered my skill? Or should I call it a gift? I have no idea: should go check on my journal. There are endless pages I’ve scribbled my experiences on, though, so it might take a while. I would much rather go talk to that cute guy that keeps eying me when I go get my morning cup of coffee or the swim instructor that’s hiding something delicious and tempting behind his swimsuit.
