I regretted the ad as soon as I placed it. Immediately I had second thoughts. I opened up the confirmation email I just received from Craig’s List.
Cum on my face. No blowjob, no sex. Just come unload on my pretty face.
The other parts of this story can be found here.
35/F needs a big, thick load of cum dripping off of me. 417 Halstead Avenue, June 13, 10 PM.
I had attached an artsy photo of my jawline, just to give them an idea of what they’d be cumming on.
My heartbeat sped.
Was I nuts?
I had thought about this for so long – being a completely covered cum doll. I had masturbated to the idea for years. The idea of having load after load of slime covering me was so incredibly hot. I wanted to be that bukkake girl. An object for men to cum on.
And now I’d done it. …Maybe.
I shivered, thinking of kneeling in the dark of that parking garage, being used as a cumdump for dozens of men, lined up and ready to degrade me with a load of their spunk.
I tried to control my expectations. Hell, June 13th was today. Conflict raged in my mind; I wanted it so much, but I knew to place the ad was stupid and dangerous. I soothed myself into thinking that there was only a very limited time for men to actually see the post. Still, I hoped that there’d be a crowd.
I slipped my hand between my legs, to find my pussy leaking copiously. My mind might be conflicted, but my body was not. My body loved the idea of being vulnerable… kneeling there in the perpetual twilight of the sodium bulbs, waiting…
The night was sticky and warm, like the air itself wanted to remind me of what kind of state I ached for.
I was wearing a little blue sundress, dark enough to see the cum stains, if anyone missed.
I tried to control my expectations.
It was possible that no one would show up at all.
I made the left into the parking garage and pulled my car into an empty spot. I killed the engine, and the sudden silence was oppressive. As the coolness of the air conditioning dissipated under the invading humidity, I lifted my dress and pushed a finger into my slick, needy hole.
I know it was stupid; I wasn’t wearing panties.
Did I want to get assaulted?
I shivered. I didn’t want to know the answer to that question. The beginning of a deep orgasm vibrated in my body, and stopped touching. I caught my breath as the sensation faded, leaving only a delicious ache.
Now or never. I opened the car door.
The click of my heels sounded loud in the empty concrete structure. I found an overhead light near the entrance but enough off to the side that I felt like I wouldn’t be seen immediately, but soon enough.
I kneeled down. The concrete was rough and cool against my knees.
I was here alone. I listened to my shallow breath betray my eagerness.
Still, no one came.
I decided I would give this outrageous experiment an hour, then I would go home.
Give anyone who wants to cover me with their cum, an hour to find me and do it.
I reached between my legs and moaned as my fingers slid over my swollen, slippery flesh.
Fucking slut. Fucking cumdump whore.
I was so close already, it didn’t take long to reach the edge again. My fingers shook as I took them away before I crested my climax. It ached. My body ached, deep inside. It ached for someone to help me be the slimed little slut I’ve always wanted to be.
Another car pulled in, and I stopped breathing.
A door slam. Footsteps echoing off the concrete.
This is it.
My lungs refused to work. This was it. My insides fluttered at the thought.
A man appeared. Tall, clean shaven.
I mewled.
He turned toward me. “Holy fuck,” he said. “Fuck, I thought it was a shit post.”
I stayed on my knees as he approached. I looked up at him from my submissive vantage point. He looked to be middle aged, but well kept. Hair that was probably darker in his youth was streaked with silver.
He reached out his hand, but stopped mid-motion. “Are you for real? This isn’t some Chris Hanson bullshit?”
I laughed, because this was never the response I expected. “No, I’m for real. Please, cum on my face. I need it.”
He licked his lips and smiled. “How much?”
The implication hit me like a punch to the stomach. He thought I was a whore. A prostitute. The sucking void of humiliation in my chest lit up every nerve ending to my cunt.
He thought I was a prostitute.
I moaned, my fingers slithering over my pussy. “No… no I’m not…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say the word. My cheeks flushed. “Nothing. Please, I’m begging you. Just do it. Cover me.” I whimpered as I reached another edge and stilled my fingers. “Please.”
I looked up at him, and I could see the skepticism on his face.
“Please,” I begged. “I want your cum all over my face.”
He stroked his hardening cock through his pants. “You’re not a hooker?”
“Just a slut,” I said, starting to edge again.
“Out here all alone? Begging strangers to cum on your face?”
“Yes,” I hissed, as my cunt began to clench needily. I pulled my fingers away. “Fuck yes.”
“No boyfriend at home to do it?” He continued stroking.
I shook my head.
His grin widened. “A pretty little thing like you, out here all alone, with no one waiting for you to come home.”
My eyes widened, as the veiled threat filtered into my brain.
Suddenly, I was afraid. Cold fear collected in my shoulders and down my legs, and I shivered.
This was a stupid, stupid idea.
“Do you know how dumb it is, to put yourself out here?”
I screwed my eyes shut and ground my jaw. The air felt heavy and unbreathable, as he echoed my own fear back to me. I nodded.
“No, I’m really not sure you do.” He had his cock out, now, and was stroking it in the direction of my face. “What’s to stop me from pinning you to the ground and filling every one of your slut holes with my cum?”
“I… I don’t know.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
He smiled so wide that he bared his teeth. “You know, there are men who would take advantage of such a stupid, naive girl. Men who would hurt you.”
I moaned, partly in fear and partly in desire.
“Or is that what you’re really looking for? That’s seriously fucked up.” Despite his admonishment, his cock got harder and bigger.
I nodded again.
“Uh-huh, you’re a fucked up little slut? Tell me. Tell me what you are.”
“I’m a fucked up little slut. I just want to be plastered with cum. I’m a desperate little whore. I want strange men to use me as a cumrag,” I babbled, blushing.
“Fuck,” he said, stroking faster. “Fucking whore. Disgusting slut. Take off your fucking dress. Let me see your slutty body.”
I didn’t even need to touch, his words were enough to melt the synapses in my brain. My mind swam in a puddle of weighty humiliation. Fuck, I was so close. So close, as I pulled my dress over my head and knelt there, completely naked, in front of this man and his hard cock.
“Fuck me,” he whispered, his fingers flying over his cock. “Fuck… damn you’re such a little whore. Here it comes, slut… fuck, look at me…”
I looked up at him, so close to my own orgasm. So eager for his cum.
His eyes were wild as his body clenched and went rigid, and ropes of cum erupted from his cock and coated my face. He groaned his orgasm into the humid night air, depositing stream after stream of ooze across my face.
It was warm and wet, and I bucked my hips as I finally became the anonymous cumdump of my fantasies.
His orgasm went on and on; I had never seen a man cum so much in my whole life. It covered my forehead, dripped off my eyebrows, and slowly ran down my cheeks.
“Fuck!” he said, shaking the last bit into my hair.
Fuck, yes. Yes, this is exactly what I wanted.
A cumdump. I was nothing more than a man’s cumdump. Need blossomed in my pussy, as this new reality ground itself into the soft recesses of my brain. I moaned.
Nothing more than a cumdump.
Fuck.
I felt the heaviness sit on my face, and it was delicious.
I heard the click of a lighter, and saw him light a cigarette through the haze on my eyes. He stood there for longer than I thought was necessary. Why wasn’t he getting into his car and leaving?
He bent down and picked up my discarded dress. It was a tiny thing, barely long enough to cover my ass, in that kind of floaty fabric that made it so dangerous to wear on breezy days. He carefully folded it and stuck it in his back pocket.
“Wait…” I said. This was not part of the plan. Fear, again, crystalized in my joints. “Wait, no. You can’t take my dress.”
My pussy clenched needily at the thought of being in public, nude, and covered with cum.
Fucking little traitor, I thought.
He took a long drag. “Can’t I? You’re really a dumb little cunt, aren’t you?”
I blushed. “Please… please don’t take my dress.” I dry swallowed. “Please.”
“I wouldn’t think it’d make a difference to a whore like you.”
I whimpered.
“There’s a party on Kinzie, I was on my way when I saw your post.” He turned and started walking back to where he must have parked. “If you want your dress back, you’ll have to come with me.”
I felt my eyes widen, and my cunt drip.
He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll cover you in so much cum, there won’t be an inch of your skin bare.”
This was an even dumber idea. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, my rational self screamed at me. But it was like that part was on mute.
“Please…” I begged.
His smile returned. “Then crawl over here, slut. And maybe we’ll let you put your dress on at the end of the night.”
Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash