They say that you can take the boy out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the boy. The first time I heard that I thought they weren’t trying hard enough. Now I know what they mean.
Many things have happened since
my last post on the subject. The Boy found the blog post and confronted me about it. Understandably, he wasn’t happy and he flew off the handle a bit. While the cheating had him a little riled, he was mostly pissed off at the fact that for the time we dated I hadn’t once shown my cumslut ways and revealed to him that I was a cock-hungry monster. He said he felt ripped off.
I said some things that I should have, too. I told him that the reason I never sipped upon his sticky semen syrup is because he was weak and didn’t exude power like the men I normally spent nights with down dimly lit alleyways.
He got angry and hit me.
It didn’t really hurt me since I’d built an immunity to slaps from the number of monster cocks I’d had bash against the side of my head. But still, he freaked out. He was such a sweet guy and he couldn’t believe that he had just hit me. He ran to our bedroom and hyperventilated for a while. He made some strange noises too. Not sure what they were about.
That night, I left The Boy. I left my new life. I called work in the morning and told them that I couldn’t come in anymore. I left everything behind. When he hit me, he hit something back into place. Once again, I was a cumslut. I longed to feel the warm tickle as cum slid down my neck, towards my chest, like a comforting snail.
I decided to give up the so-called “honest” life and return to my roots. Using the video production skills I’d picked up at my old job and money I made from sucking off coked-up, middle-age barristers in Kings Cross, I opened up an adult movie company. It wasn’t easy and I fucked up a few times, but I've made it work.
The movies are all about me. I suck dicks like there’s no tomorrow. I videotape it. I sell it. The punters love it. I’m a fucking star. I have deepthroated fame and it feels fucking good/filling.
I wrote The Boy a letter a couple of weeks ago, explaining what happened. I told him how I thought that he was a cunt for holding me back from reaching my potential, even though he had no idea. If he loved me he would have known.
He hasn’t replied yet.
So things are looking good now. The movie company is going incredibly well and I get to pick and choose which men I will feast on. I even found a young girl who has the same insatiable hunger for hairy dick that I once had, except in a straight sort of way. I’m going to make her a star like me. I mean, I’ve got gonorrhea in the throat which is a bit of a drag sometimes. But I like to accentuate the positives.
I am a proud cumslut.
