Nikki's Journal Ch. 01: Fuck-Hungry

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Ruminations on my sex drive's roaring return.
861 words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/15/2019
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Something is happening to me these days, something I welcome, something I love and slightly fear, something I recognize intimately but still don't understand. Something I have no control over:

I am fuck-mad, blindly horny, unreasoning — cock-hungry and sort of stunned, perpetually wet and swollen. The tap is turned on, but the handle is broken, so the need gushes through me right alongside the satisfaction, no rising and falling, no waning after I've come but just more hunger.

It's making me stupid, careless, incautious, insensible. I get off with Daddy and his perfect cock, playing weird and delicious and ravenous games that result in brain-shaking orgasms — and then I'm jerking off with the Irishman half an hour later...

Oh, the Irishman! Jesus, that guy. I blame a large portion of this volcanic moment on him and that fucking accent. The way he pronounces the words "baby" and "t'inkin' bout me" is just stupid, it's that's hot. (Yes, I'm looking at you, AG... with my hands in my pants.)

He's posted 20-some audio pieces that I started listening to this spring, first with skepticism, then amusement, then a growing affection — and now, after innumerable orgasms, with an almost delirious attachment, the way you get when you marathon-fuck someone over a period of weeks and then feel like you can't walk upright or form a sentence anymore unless they're close at hand.

Thoughts of getting fucked are pushing everything else out of my consciousness, and it doesn't even take the Irishman's voice in my headphones to get me wet anymore, doesn't even require a waking thought about the sound of his breathing to slide me off into a fugue state of fuck-me-now.

These days I just live there, always only a single thin veil between my day-to-day obligations and the excruciating, filthy release of imagining my way into the scenarios he creates: waking up sweet and sleepy to fuck and laugh, being served and coddled by him after a brutal workweek, or obeying the growl and bark of his commands as he orders me, owns me, humiliates me, pounds my cunt.

Seriously, the dude knows *all the things* to say to get a straight woman off. And I can't stop won't stop with him.

Simultaneously, I'm happy to say, a juicy rotation of new and old IRL lovers has geared up into my orbit recently, adding gasoline to the pyre underneath my until-recently balanced life.

First, the man I've treasured but who was demoted long ago to a remote, occasional fling (and whom at one point I hadn't tasted for years). Now he's started coming back to town, and we've been getting to indulge the frightening level of attraction that's blazed between us since the first day I met him — and sucked his cock. God, I love that man's lips. And hair. And hands. And voice. And belly. And cock. And everything.

This affair with him, though, presents a perfect example of the recklessness I mentioned earlier: I'm doing something bad with him, but in my fuck-madness I've consciously decided that I do not care — at least, not enough to quit.

When I saw him last fall, I went in prepared to call an end to it because he's married, and she doesn't know he's fucking me, and they don't have an understanding like Daddy and me, and that makes us assholes. Not fair to fuck over another woman you don't even know.

So he and I talked about it rationally like two grown adults, and I was feeling pretty strong and righteous about my decision... until he laid his lips on my collarbone and then grabbed a handful of my hair. Immediately my script flipped to the callous, greedy, self-serving voice of my cunt, who said, "I've been fucking him for twice as long as they've even known each other. I'm not about to stop now."

And then there's mine and Daddy's new pretty unicorn, who presents another potentially dangerous situation (for different but equally inadmissible reasons). She's the first woman I've been really hot for, the first among the handful we've fucked whom I constantly dream about fucking. A lot.

It's perfect that she's accomplished and sparky and smart and super-motivated on the vertical — and also a dirty, needy and skilled little freak on the horizontal. I've never truly enjoyed eating pussy before, and in fact had resigned myself last year to swearing off it (because why do it if you don't love it?). Now I'm so thrilled that I gave it one more chance, as getting her off is a brand-new flavor and intensity of pleasure for me.

It's still new between us all, and so fun and thrilling I can barely stand it. This weekend we take off for the first sex getaway I'll ever have had with more than one lover — and the anticipation is turning a pressurized situation (yes, the one in my pants) into a nearly unbearable one.

I guess until then I'll have to plug back into the Irishman and ride these waves of fuck-madness until they eventually spit me out naked, wet, and gasping onto another shore.

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  • COMMENTS
4 Comments
nikkiestrusnikkiestrusover 4 years agoAuthor
Please and thank you

Gentlemen, I thank you all. More soon. (It's hard to type fast with one hand in my pants.)

AttractiveGeekAttractiveGeekover 4 years ago
Thank you

I'm glad I helped reawaken (or maybe just increase) your sex drive. Have fun!

You're a very good writer, you should post more.

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Something different

I am pleased to know you enjoy my audio stories as well, even though I don't have that Irish accent...

FrankwuoFrankwuoalmost 5 years ago
More

I want mooooooooore!!!!

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