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Posted using PostyBirb", "writing": "First off, thank you for reading my story. I have over 500. Around 400 which will be published on various sites in a quick and whirlwind fashion. Please like, comment, or share my stories wherever you want. Anything is better than nothing. But do follow if you like my writing. There is so much more to come! Second, I do commissions and this is like 4 years of backlog. They are not edited, they have shit for blurb, no book cover, no REAL title, and the tags are shit. If you are interested in doing any of these things so that I can put it into a main file and distribute the blurb, better tags, or book covers and stuff, please reach out, or put it into the comments section. If I present better, I will have more clients in a segregated category and thus will be able to write more of these unique individualized kinks. Equally so, editor needed. Now, I know what your thinking--- WHY am I not doing this myself? Well, good dear reader, Rough guestimation, I have over 5k pages to tinker around with. I've not shared my backlog because of want for perfection. Would you rather my words not perfect, or not have my work at all period? Backlog of 4 years. And if I don't push it out, I never will. I also run two businesses to keep me afloat. Unlike that one song, time, my friend, is not on my side. \nThank you again for being amazing! \nPLEASE like, rate, or whatever. Trying to build a community instead of being an invisible thumbprint on the far reaches of the vast internet. \nA final note. If you know anyone, or community, or website that might be of use to me? Never, ever, ever hesitate to contact me. This job is a HARD job, it is fulltime, but I love it so much. Help me continue living this dream of learning about unique kinks and desires. \nAnd if you have a complaint on my tense shifting or my comma splices. Take a number! I know my severe weaknesses. I know I am not the best writer, I also know that I am not the greatest, but I feel my gift is UNDERSTANDING a persons wants. That, alone, is my skill set, not writing. \nCHECK BIO FOR LINKS. Also, newsletter everyone. Sign it, please. \n\nThe opposite of being afraid isn't being brave. The opposite of being afraid is being horny. When you're desperate to get your rocks off and even your usual porn doesn't cut it, you get a hell of a lot more adventurous. You take day trips to neighborhoods you've never heard of, reach out to strangers you wouldn't have dreamed of messaging, and delve into corners of the internet once thought lost to viruses and crime.\n\nThat's how I found myself an hour and a half up the interstate from my place, at a rest stop I'm pretty sure I'd seen in half a dozen horror movies. The sky was the color of a long shift's dishwater, everything was damp inside and out, and the sheep lady manning the information desk was reading a book the thickness of my raging erection. It seemed like a cushy job - man the building and make sure nobody stole any maps or got trafficked - but for a dragon like me who got aroused when he was bored, it would have been impossible to get through a shift without beating off at least thrice.\n\nThe rest stop lady flicked her eyes up precisely a hundredth of an inch as I entered. She was back to her book as I slipped into the men's room. I wondered if she had guessed what I was here for. Then I decided that she didn't care. Neither did I, for that matter. I had a mission that I'd been up half the night stroking myself silly to the thought of and I'd come too far to chicken out now. Arousal makes us all brave.\n\nI'd been instructed to show up to the third stall, and in no uncertain terms to stay out of the fourth. They were old wooden stalls that hadn't been updated in decades and which you could just see through the cracks of if you were fucked up enough to look. I wasn't, but I couldn't help glancing at the space between the floor and the walls. No feet. Maybe my contact was crouched on the toilet like a goblin. I stifled a giggle.\n\nThe thing about glory holes I'd decided was that it was a good sign if their ads stayed up for a long time. It meant that nobody at the venue or on the website was paying attention. I'd heard there were directories somewhere, but my courage had stopped short of checking one out. I don't know why. Maybe I thought I'd chicken out if it turned out people could leave reviews.\n\nSomehow it was hot in here compared to the chill outside. The close atmosphere reminded me of a swimming pool, somewhere permanently slimy no matter how much you wash. For reasons I knew I wasn't going to comprehend in my post-nut clarity, that sent a delicious ache through my hips, a throb through my cock. I couldn't resist brushing my crotch across the third stall door as I opened it.\n\nAnd there it was. Hacked out of the divider between the stalls, edges wrapped in brown packing tape, big enough to put a fist through.\n\nOr a cock the size of someone's forearm.\n\nI whipped out my phone and checked my DMs again, scrolling back through to remind myself that this was indeed real, to make sure I was raring to go. My cock was tucked up into the waistband of my underwear to keep it from poking halfway to my knee, and I was so hard that the head was just barely visible over the top of my jeans. I unzipped and slipped my cock out the front of my boxer briefs; after a moment's thought, I shucked them down to my knees. I wanted this mysterious stranger to take all of me, unadulterated by fabric.\n\nI'd been instructed to tap out a certain rhythm to indicate that I was ready. As soon as I did that, I saw a little red mouth - humanoid, not a draconic snout like mine - appear on the other side of the hole. A black, forked tongue slipped from its lips and licked around the edge. I could only imagine what he was tasting, but I couldn't care about that right now. I had to feel that forked hunk of muscle running up and down my length. It was wet, it was exquisite, and it knew exactly what to do and how to do it. I doubt I had ever, or will ever, get treatment like this again. \n\nHe got straight to business. I moaned at the first lap at my flared cockhead. It was like taking two tongues at once, one on either side of my tip. My baseline disgust at my environment was quickly buried beneath the sensation, and I pressed my cheek to the old wood of the divider - unexpectedly cool in the humid bathroom - as my mystery man went to town on my dragon dick. He pursed his lips around my foreskin, pushing it back with just his mouth. Okay, I thought. This guy knows what he's doing.\n\nYes, indeed, he did. A wet stroke on either side, up and down; both tips meeting at my entrance, playing around the edge of my urethra; and then it hit me that it was prehensile, right down to the two halves. They dived just a hair into my hole, a tiny pressure that made my teeth clench and my claws dig into the wood. Then they were working the head opposite each other; one down, the other up, back and forth for some time I couldn't begin to count. I'd forgotten how to count.\n\nMy lover's head bobbed along my length with enough enthusiasm that it was actually starting to hurt. My balls were swollen, tight in my scrotum, prepared to cum violently down this guy's throat, but he was going at it hard enough to gently batter them as the loose divider jiggled. Sort of like going for a jog after getting kicked in the balls. Not that that had ever happened to me.\n\nBut that didn't ruin the effect for me. His throat was as hot and tight as any orifice I'd ever stuck myself in, and flexible besides. My cock was buzzing with anticipation at his touch, straining to cum, which nicely counterbalanced the dull ache from going literally balls to the wall. It wasn't more than three minutes before I felt my balls tighten, my cock spasming out of control, and I bit my tongue and exhaled sharply through my nose as I came.\n\nWhoever he was, he was thorough. He clamped his lips down on the base of my cock and shepherded my jizz up to the tip with his tongue, catching every rope with the back of his throat and licking me up and down to clean me off. I could have eaten off of my dick once he was done.\n\nBut he wasn't done. My cock had gone slightly soft after I was finished cumming, still big but losing steam as it normally did. It would take a minute to fire back up, but this guy didn't seem to mind. He kept it fresh, lavished attention on by base, my head, around its edges, and everywhere in between. In minutes I was hard again, and in seconds I was cumming again, and he drank down my seed with exactly as much enthusiasm as he did the first time. And the third. And the fourth. He enjoyed toying with my excessive foreskin too, he seemed to enjoy it as much, if not more, than milking my seed right from the source. He was bold, adventurous, and even though he had seen me through so many orgasms, encouraged and brought them on, he still had a teasing quality to his art form. \n\nI don't know how long I was there. Longer than I'd anticipated and shorter than I thought it would take to cum four times down a mystery man's throat. My refractory period seemed to disappear into the time it took for him to lap up my load, a rhythm of near-constant pleasure that culminated in a perfect orgasmic cycle. My balls didn't even hurt anymore.\n\nI found out why when I reached down to work them while my fifth orgasm gripped them. It wasn't as if I regularly checked their size and shape - though I'd been told before that I ought to - but they definitely felt smaller. I was pretty sure they'd been orange-sized when I entered the bathroom stall, and now they were more like eggs.\n\nI was vaguely aware that I ought to be concerned about this, but I really didn't care. Not with my cock tingling with the embers of my next orgasm, stoked higher and higher by this guy's magical tongue. But even so, I kept one hand on my balls as he lavished my manhood with his mouth. His lips were fixed on my shaft without a sliver of give, wet as if he'd chugged a tube of lube before heading off to his afternoon shift at the glory hole.\n\nNot a drop of cum had fallen from his lips. And sure enough, as I came for a sixth time into this guy's eager mouth, I could feel my balls shrink slightly. Golf balls now.\n\nStill this guy hadn't slowed down. If anything, he'd increased the intensity of his marathon blowjob. I could have fit my whole cock and balls through the hole by now, and indeed he was throwing in some choice strokes from his fingers as he slipped his glorious forked tongue back to my cock's head.\n\nI happened to look down as I reoriented between orgasms, and I saw then that the figure on the other side did indeed have hands as humanoid as his mouth - slender fingers, sharp black nails, and the unmistakable dark as night crimson skin of a demon.\n\nThat explained the fervor, the stamina, the sheer ecstasy I was getting out of this blowjob. If this guy was some kind of incubus, he lived and breathed dick. Intellectually I knew that there was something dangerous about letting this go on, but I'd come too far and too much to snatch back any of the caution I'd thrown to the wind. It was just so much better to let this creature have his way. \n\nBesides, he was slipping his tongue down my sack and flirting with my taint, and that was a surprise too pleasant not to luxuriate in.\n\nHis long tongue slid down my scrotum, wrapped around it, squeezed my shrunken balls, making my cock squirt out a little more cum than I thought I'd still held on to. Then he moved on, pressing his tongue's split end against my taint and rubbing like he was trying to make fire. It made me clench every muscle south of my hips, and I clenched my teeth as I heard the divider crack in my grip. I shifted my hands up to the top and held on, lest I rip giant holes out of the partition and spoil the mystery even more than I already had.\n\nI was leaking precum and regular cum continuously at this point, and I wondered just how much I'd fed him over the course of our rendezvous. Was his stomach swollen with my seed? Would he be too full to eat for the rest of the day? Maybe he'd walk out waddling with a belly full of cum.\n\nHowever much I'd given him, I launched more into his throat when he managed to reach my asshole with his long, probing tongue. He was rimming me from the front, using the impossible angle of his tongue to force my cock deeper into his throat, holding my lower body in the grip of something like a wet and fleshy finger hold. God, he worked my ass in tandem with juggling my once proud, now deflated ball sack. \n\nHe couldn't quite reach my prostate, but you take what you can get.\n\nI hadn't prepared for this, but he didn't seem to mind. Every exquisite moment of pressure around every inch of my asshole made me roll my hips slowly, uncontrollably, indecisively, rocking first into his mouth, then back against his tongue. He was jerking me off and going down on me at the same time, and I came again and again like this, not caring how small my balls got. They would fill, I assume, if given the chance to build back up a nice amount of thick seed. He could suck me off until I started jizzing sand for all I cared. This wasn't a case of an impulsive hookup that ended too quickly and with too much regret for following my dick. There was no obvious endpoint except total exhaustion from one or both of us.\n\nBut surely something had to give. I could feel my sack lightening, nearly empty as I came endlessly into the demon's mouth. I palmed my balls again. There they were - or there they soon wouldn't be. He'd turned them into little marbles? then ball bearings? and finally, after one particularly long and hard orgasm, I just couldn't feel them anymore. I felt a particularly large glob of something travel down my dick - the remains of my balls, maybe - and then nothing. He'd sucked me as dry as it was possible to suck me, and though my cock continued to pulse in his throat, straining against its own skin, it simply did not produce anything.\n\nCheaper than a vasectomy, and a hell of a lot more fun.\n\nThe other perk was that because of the disintegration of my balls, he was able to hit my prostate with his tongue, now that there wasn't anything really blocking the organs path. \n\nBut he wasn't done. Not by a long shot. He too must have known that he'd swallowed my balls like a couple of runny egg yolks, because he withdrew his questing tongue from my anus and wrapped it back around my now-empty scrotum. He pulled my fleshy sack back through the glory hole - it almost didn't fit with all its thickness and mass, but he managed to slip it through with an almighty slurp that resonated through my thighs and brought my erection back to full attention. God only knew how the tape around the edges of the glory hole must have tasted, but I couldn't care about that right now - not with my entire junk in this demon's mouth.\n\nI was glad I'd moved my hands to the top of the partition, because I was kind of at an awkward angle now that my hips were flush with it. Moreover, my arms and legs were starting to fall asleep, though that made the sensation thrumming through me from my genitals all the more powerful. He was sucking on my cock, my sack, his jaw apparently unhinged to take all of me into him and soak my needy, aching crotch with his warm spit.\n\nAs I was succumbing to the luxuries of this cock sucking, I tried to pull back, just a little, just to recover myself, just to, my head was swimming. I just needed a pause, anything. Too much of a good thing was too much. But I realized that I was fast in place. My cock, the sack, everything? It was pulled through the hole in bits, but now that they were one united squeezed together choked unit, I couldn't liberate myself. \n\nI was stuck. \n\nI didn't time him, but he finally removed his mouth from me after what seemed like an hour. I'd completely lost track of how long I'd been in there, and I didn't want to know. Nor had I expected to leave this place without my testicles, but even if I were shooting blanks for the rest of my days I could still cum just fine. That was a bonus in my book.\n\nI leaned on the partition, catching my breath, flexing the muscles in my groin, twitching my cock in search of something, anything to rub it against. It didn't matter that my cock had been milked entirely dry. I could have kept going. But all good things had to come to an end.\n\nEven so, I didn't hear the tap from his side that we'd agreed would indicate that it was time to leave. That was the etiquette, after all - the idea was not to see each other. The awkwardness of accidentally leaving our stalls at the same time would almost have been worse than someone walking in on us.\n\nBut he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.\n\nI heard him draw a big, theatrical breath. It would occur to me later - too much later - that he'd intended for me to hear it. He put his lips to my cock - not over it, against it - puffed out his cheeks (I imagine), and blew.\n\nI'd never once felt anything pushed into my cock, but today was full of firsts and surprises. A lungful of air rushed through my urethra and settled warmly in my scrotum, a heaviness almost replacing the mass of my former balls. But not quite. The ball sack swelled but it was not like the weight of my balls, it was massive, sure, but it was empty, just air. A nothingness that still had substance. \n\nIt was at this point that I decided to adjust my stance - the feeling was strange, but not unwelcome, and the least I could do was to get some sensation back in my limbs before he started going to town on me again.\n\nI tapped the \"pause\" rhythm we'd agreed on and pulled my hips back.\n\nNothing. My sack was just big enough to be too big for the hole. I imagined it puffed up like a deflated birthday balloon, and just as wrinkly and empty. It was an alien feeling, trying to pull it through and only getting a weird tugging on my crotch, but not an unwelcome one. I could see any of this, but I felt it, I felt it growing, blowing up, getting bigger, bigger than big. It was, oh god, it was uncomfortable, weird, but the sensation of being filled was oddly satisfying. The way that my deflated ball sack inflated, the way the flesh that was stuck and clumped together slowly peeled from itself. I shuttered, my eyes fluttered. \n\nHe blew again, and I felt my sack grow heavier, tighter. I would have had a hard time walking normally if he'd left me like this - assuming I ever got unstuck from the glory hole. The front of my cock was feeling a little swollen, too. Whatever he was doing to my empty scrotum he must have also been doing to my foreskin.\n\nI moaned as he blew me larger, as he inhaled loud, slow, and deep for me to hear. He wanted me to enjoy this, wanted me to anticipate every inch of the air he was blowing into me. And I was. I couldn't contain myself, it felt glorious. This glory hole was filled with such surprises that I just couldn't contain my excitement. I mewled. I whimpered. Oh, hell. What was the term for a reserve orgasm? I felt my cock swelling bigger than any erection I'd ever had, and my sack was starting to get tight and full, swollen against my dick like a balloon on the end of a tire pump. It must have looked comically out of place even on my large dragon frame, but it felt just right.\n\nOver time I got pretty good at predicting when he'd run out of breath, how much he had in him with each inhalation. He had been huffing and puffing so long that it was hard not to understand the intricacies of my expansion. And again, it was one of those markers of the passage of time that I started losing track of the longer he went on and the bigger he blew my sack. I'd feel the skin of my scrotum get a little tighter, the wrinkles disappearing, but each breath would represent a little less of what he'd blown into me.\n\nBecause now it was his turn to fill me as I'd filled him.\n\nI had a lot of time to think about what that meant to both of us. Me pouring my seed into him, him blowing his breath into me; we were filling each other with ourselves, trading essence - in a way, a horny impulse had turned into the most intimate connection it was possible to share.\n\nExcept that I ran out of cum. He couldn't run out of air as long as there was air to breathe.\n\nThis occurred to me about the time I felt my sack start to strain against the hole. I didn't feel numb or anything, like my circulation was being cut off; but I could feel my scrotum slowly creeping down the other side of the partition. Somewhere on the other end of the glory hole, my sack was inflating like a circus balloon. My cock was swollen and air-filled, but nowhere near to the lofty heights of my scrotum. It didn't hurt; I didn't feel overfilled. Like the orgasms my lover had given me that only ended when my balls did, there seemed to be no limit to the size of my sack as long as I had a sack to inflate.\n\nI didn't even need to hold on to the partition anymore. I leaned back and sighed deeply, letting the demon do his work. The sheer mass of my ballsack - just my sack, really - was pinning me perfectly in the glory hole. I spread my knees and rolled my hips into the demon's huffs and puffs, giving my thighs over to the stretch he was imbuing into my junk. I was a living stretch.\n\nEventually I felt my sack puff up against something cool and curved on my right. The toilet, I realized. I was big enough to touch it - and then the cool dampness of the floor matched that sensation on the underside of my scrotum. Then the soft plane of the other partition.\n\nI was filling up the whole other stall, I realized. My sack was almost as big as the rest of me. If I concentrated I could just feel my cock tilted slightly to the side. My demon lover must have shifted out of the way. Had he opened the stall? Did we no longer care about getting caught? Would he end up clinging to my sack like a fly on a beach ball?\n\nMaybe he would. For all I cared, he could. There was nothing like a really good stretch, one where you felt like your bones could reach out of your arms if you bent them back far enough, but there was a limit to those. There wasn't a limit to this.\n\nThere was an almighty crack and a ripple through my whole body as the partition finally broke. The tape was laughably inadequate to hold it together, and the cracks around the glory hole had spread to the holes I'd accidentally worn in the wall. The entire point of my coming here had shattered upon my mighty sack, and feeling surged into it as the collar on my junk was violently sundered. I fell back against the wall behind me, limp at the sudden sensation, and realized that my scrotum was now puffed up large enough to rest against. If I pushed against the wall, I could rest on top of my impossibly inflated sack, roll around on top of it like a giant balloon.\n\nThere was no stopping the demon from blowing me bigger and bigger. I lost myself in the sensation of my sack growing as big as me, bigger, even dwarfing me as I felt it touch the ceiling. I felt spots of warmth appear and then disappear against my skin as my sack touched the ceiling lights and then smothered them. Whatever magic the demon was using on me, it was making my skin stronger than porcelain, stronger than wood, stronger than brick. And yet so sensitive and acutely aware of everything. Even the soft cool breeze of air sent scintillating sensations of sordid seduction spiraling throughout my very form. My engorged airy balls quivered. Goose bumps appeared on the smooth ballooned balls but immediately stretched into an excessively overtly creaseless unblemished surface. \n\nAnd soon enough there was a series of cracks, the crusty sensation of mortar crumbling across my flesh, and a rush of cool air as I burst through the ceiling.\n\nWhere was the front desk lady? Who cared? What could she do? What could anyone do? I was already bigger than anyone alive. I could grow bigger than anything alive. Nothing in the world could grow bigger or more powerful than my empty sack. I'd made a deal with my demon lover, trading my testicles for the ability to become so much more. The feeling was numbing my mind, my thoughts. All I could think about was the pleasure of my expanded surface. It was magnified beyond anything I could ever conceive. I processed only a fraction of what pleasure was actually provided to me. \n\nI was aware then of a pulling sensation, a series of tugs on the comparatively tiny point on the globe of my sack that my cock had become. It was kind of like my dick was the stretchy neck of a balloon, pulled by a clown to give him something to tie it off with.\n\nI was being tied off, I realized. A deft tug sealed my cock in a neat little knot. My foreskin had been used against me often in sexual and non sexual play, but it had never really been used so exquisitely and to terrible effect. The knot I felt tied turned into a double knot. The demon didn't want any of what he had so laboriously put into me to some leaking out. And the next thing I knew, I felt a small, sharp point against my swollen sack. The demon was dragging it down my tight skin - a light touch here, a heavier pressure there, as if searching for precisely the right spot to? to what?\n\nWhat was that wonderfully chilling feeling? I couldn't see. I just couldn't. Even if I had a clear view of everything, I doubt I could. I was positive the entire other side of the stall was completely overwhelmed with my massive ballooned ball sack. I doubted I could see my cock, nor the knot made with my excessively long and tough foreskin, nor could I see the perpetrator of all this. So, there was no way I could see what was being so tantalizingly dragged across my bloated, outrageous ball sack. \n\nI didn't know what it was, could have been a needle, could have been a hairpin, could have been something from a body ring, but there was a distinct and obvious trait that I was acutely aware of, it was sharp. Extremely sharp. \n\nThis monster, this demon, this embodiment of lust was well versed and practiced in this type of thing. He came not to suck me dry, nor to devour my balls until they were empty, these were all just a byproduct of what he truly was here for? He was here to pop me. He wanted to blow me? And in a manner to which I have never experienced before. \n\nI wasn't opposed to it. Not at all. The dragging of that sharp metallic object against my stunningly smooth ball sack was enough to make me whimper, my knees trembled and crashed against each other. \n\nThe answer came to me too late. It wasn't as if I could move. I didn't even want to move. But I was sure moving now. My scrotum, swollen bigger and rounder than a giant's snowball, burst like an overripe grape under an elephant's foot.\n\nThe pop was so loud that I couldn't even hear it, but I felt it, I felt it in my core. The deep rumbling that echoed and suffused your body. \n\nI never did see what happened to the demon. I blew down trees for miles around. The sound echoed across state lines. What could survive at the epicenter of an explosion like that?\n\nThe pop only gushed out the hot and sordid breath that was breathed into me by this deranged lover. \n\nBut maybe he hadn't. I'd never been on the other side of a glory hole. Whatever I'd found being blown up the way he'd blown me up, maybe he'd found something similar huffing and puffing into my cock. Something worth risking it all for.\n\nI just wish he hadn't stopped at building size. If a pin could make a crater like he'd made out of me, just imagine what I could have become if he'd puffed me up tall as a skyscraper. The world would never have seen it coming.\n\nAnd hey, if it worked out for me, it just might have worked out for you.\n\nThe glory hole, the building, it was reduced to nothing. I saw stars. I was laying on my back, finally free, finally able to move. Even though I could didn't mean I would. I was basking in the wonderful euphoric feeling. That bliss after an intense orgasm. It wasn't an orgasm proper, but it certainty felt like an orgasm to the soul. And I went all out. Everything. I looked up into the azure sky? everything around me was barren. Sure, rubble was around me, but I had a clear and unobstructed view of the sky. \n\nI laughed a little, blissful. I dare not look at what type of wreckage I incurred on my ball sack but I could only assume it was entirely gone. \n\nAnd I was okay with that. \n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "First off, thank you for reading my story. I have over 500. Around 400 which will be published on various sites in a quick and whirlwind fashion. Please like, comment, or share my stories wherever you want. Anything is better than nothing. But do follow if you like my writing. There is so much more to come! Second, I do commissions and this is like 4 years of backlog. They are not edited, they have shit for blurb, no book cover, no REAL title, and the tags are shit. If you are interested in doing any of these things so that I can put it into a main file and distribute the blurb, better tags, or book covers and stuff, please reach out, or put it into the comments section. If I present better, I will have more clients in a segregated category and thus will be able to write more of these unique individualized kinks. Equally so, editor needed. Now, I know what your thinking--- WHY am I not doing this myself? Well, good dear reader, Rough guestimation, I have over 5k pages to tinker around with. I've not shared my backlog because of want for perfection. Would you rather my words not perfect, or not have my work at all period? Backlog of 4 years. And if I don't push it out, I never will. I also run two businesses to keep me afloat. Unlike that one song, time, my friend, is not on my side.
Thank you again for being amazing!
PLEASE like, rate, or whatever. Trying to build a community instead of being an invisible thumbprint on the far reaches of the vast internet.
A final note. If you know anyone, or community, or website that might be of use to me? Never, ever, ever hesitate to contact me. This job is a HARD job, it is fulltime, but I love it so much. Help me continue living this dream of learning about unique kinks and desires.
And if you have a complaint on my tense shifting or my comma splices. Take a number! I know my severe weaknesses. I know I am not the best writer, I also know that I am not the greatest, but I feel my gift is UNDERSTANDING a persons wants. That, alone, is my skill set, not writing.
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The opposite of being afraid isn't being brave. The opposite of being afraid is being horny. When you're desperate to get your rocks off and even your usual porn doesn't cut it, you get a hell of a lot more adventurous. You take day trips to neighborhoods you've never heard of, reach out to strangers you wouldn't have dreamed of messaging, and delve into corners of the internet once thought lost to viruses and crime.

That's how I found myself an hour and a half up the interstate from my place, at a rest stop I'm pretty sure I'd seen in half a dozen horror movies. The sky was the color of a long shift's dishwater, everything was damp inside and out, and the sheep lady manning the information desk was reading a book the thickness of my raging erection. It seemed like a cushy job - man the building and make sure nobody stole any maps or got trafficked - but for a dragon like me who got aroused when he was bored, it would have been impossible to get through a shift without beating off at least thrice.

The rest stop lady flicked her eyes up precisely a hundredth of an inch as I entered. She was back to her book as I slipped into the men's room. I wondered if she had guessed what I was here for. Then I decided that she didn't care. Neither did I, for that matter. I had a mission that I'd been up half the night stroking myself silly to the thought of and I'd come too far to chicken out now. Arousal makes us all brave.

I'd been instructed to show up to the third stall, and in no uncertain terms to stay out of the fourth. They were old wooden stalls that hadn't been updated in decades and which you could just see through the cracks of if you were fucked up enough to look. I wasn't, but I couldn't help glancing at the space between the floor and the walls. No feet. Maybe my contact was crouched on the toilet like a goblin. I stifled a giggle.

The thing about glory holes I'd decided was that it was a good sign if their ads stayed up for a long time. It meant that nobody at the venue or on the website was paying attention. I'd heard there were directories somewhere, but my courage had stopped short of checking one out. I don't know why. Maybe I thought I'd chicken out if it turned out people could leave reviews.

Somehow it was hot in here compared to the chill outside. The close atmosphere reminded me of a swimming pool, somewhere permanently slimy no matter how much you wash. For reasons I knew I wasn't going to comprehend in my post-nut clarity, that sent a delicious ache through my hips, a throb through my cock. I couldn't resist brushing my crotch across the third stall door as I opened it.

And there it was. Hacked out of the divider between the stalls, edges wrapped in brown packing tape, big enough to put a fist through.

Or a cock the size of someone's forearm.

I whipped out my phone and checked my DMs again, scrolling back through to remind myself that this was indeed real, to make sure I was raring to go. My cock was tucked up into the waistband of my underwear to keep it from poking halfway to my knee, and I was so hard that the head was just barely visible over the top of my jeans. I unzipped and slipped my cock out the front of my boxer briefs; after a moment's thought, I shucked them down to my knees. I wanted this mysterious stranger to take all of me, unadulterated by fabric.

I'd been instructed to tap out a certain rhythm to indicate that I was ready. As soon as I did that, I saw a little red mouth - humanoid, not a draconic snout like mine - appear on the other side of the hole. A black, forked tongue slipped from its lips and licked around the edge. I could only imagine what he was tasting, but I couldn't care about that right now. I had to feel that forked hunk of muscle running up and down my length. It was wet, it was exquisite, and it knew exactly what to do and how to do it. I doubt I had ever, or will ever, get treatment like this again.

He got straight to business. I moaned at the first lap at my flared cockhead. It was like taking two tongues at once, one on either side of my tip. My baseline disgust at my environment was quickly buried beneath the sensation, and I pressed my cheek to the old wood of the divider - unexpectedly cool in the humid bathroom - as my mystery man went to town on my dragon dick. He pursed his lips around my foreskin, pushing it back with just his mouth. Okay, I thought. This guy knows what he's doing.

Yes, indeed, he did. A wet stroke on either side, up and down; both tips meeting at my entrance, playing around the edge of my urethra; and then it hit me that it was prehensile, right down to the two halves. They dived just a hair into my hole, a tiny pressure that made my teeth clench and my claws dig into the wood. Then they were working the head opposite each other; one down, the other up, back and forth for some time I couldn't begin to count. I'd forgotten how to count.

My lover's head bobbed along my length with enough enthusiasm that it was actually starting to hurt. My balls were swollen, tight in my scrotum, prepared to cum violently down this guy's throat, but he was going at it hard enough to gently batter them as the loose divider jiggled. Sort of like going for a jog after getting kicked in the balls. Not that that had ever happened to me.

But that didn't ruin the effect for me. His throat was as hot and tight as any orifice I'd ever stuck myself in, and flexible besides. My cock was buzzing with anticipation at his touch, straining to cum, which nicely counterbalanced the dull ache from going literally balls to the wall. It wasn't more than three minutes before I felt my balls tighten, my cock spasming out of control, and I bit my tongue and exhaled sharply through my nose as I came.

Whoever he was, he was thorough. He clamped his lips down on the base of my cock and shepherded my jizz up to the tip with his tongue, catching every rope with the back of his throat and licking me up and down to clean me off. I could have eaten off of my dick once he was done.

But he wasn't done. My cock had gone slightly soft after I was finished cumming, still big but losing steam as it normally did. It would take a minute to fire back up, but this guy didn't seem to mind. He kept it fresh, lavished attention on by base, my head, around its edges, and everywhere in between. In minutes I was hard again, and in seconds I was cumming again, and he drank down my seed with exactly as much enthusiasm as he did the first time. And the third. And the fourth. He enjoyed toying with my excessive foreskin too, he seemed to enjoy it as much, if not more, than milking my seed right from the source. He was bold, adventurous, and even though he had seen me through so many orgasms, encouraged and brought them on, he still had a teasing quality to his art form.

I don't know how long I was there. Longer than I'd anticipated and shorter than I thought it would take to cum four times down a mystery man's throat. My refractory period seemed to disappear into the time it took for him to lap up my load, a rhythm of near-constant pleasure that culminated in a perfect orgasmic cycle. My balls didn't even hurt anymore.

I found out why when I reached down to work them while my fifth orgasm gripped them. It wasn't as if I regularly checked their size and shape - though I'd been told before that I ought to - but they definitely felt smaller. I was pretty sure they'd been orange-sized when I entered the bathroom stall, and now they were more like eggs.

I was vaguely aware that I ought to be concerned about this, but I really didn't care. Not with my cock tingling with the embers of my next orgasm, stoked higher and higher by this guy's magical tongue. But even so, I kept one hand on my balls as he lavished my manhood with his mouth. His lips were fixed on my shaft without a sliver of give, wet as if he'd chugged a tube of lube before heading off to his afternoon shift at the glory hole.

Not a drop of cum had fallen from his lips. And sure enough, as I came for a sixth time into this guy's eager mouth, I could feel my balls shrink slightly. Golf balls now.

Still this guy hadn't slowed down. If anything, he'd increased the intensity of his marathon blowjob. I could have fit my whole cock and balls through the hole by now, and indeed he was throwing in some choice strokes from his fingers as he slipped his glorious forked tongue back to my cock's head.

I happened to look down as I reoriented between orgasms, and I saw then that the figure on the other side did indeed have hands as humanoid as his mouth - slender fingers, sharp black nails, and the unmistakable dark as night crimson skin of a demon.

That explained the fervor, the stamina, the sheer ecstasy I was getting out of this blowjob. If this guy was some kind of incubus, he lived and breathed dick. Intellectually I knew that there was something dangerous about letting this go on, but I'd come too far and too much to snatch back any of the caution I'd thrown to the wind. It was just so much better to let this creature have his way.

Besides, he was slipping his tongue down my sack and flirting with my taint, and that was a surprise too pleasant not to luxuriate in.

His long tongue slid down my scrotum, wrapped around it, squeezed my shrunken balls, making my cock squirt out a little more cum than I thought I'd still held on to. Then he moved on, pressing his tongue's split end against my taint and rubbing like he was trying to make fire. It made me clench every muscle south of my hips, and I clenched my teeth as I heard the divider crack in my grip. I shifted my hands up to the top and held on, lest I rip giant holes out of the partition and spoil the mystery even more than I already had.

I was leaking precum and regular cum continuously at this point, and I wondered just how much I'd fed him over the course of our rendezvous. Was his stomach swollen with my seed? Would he be too full to eat for the rest of the day? Maybe he'd walk out waddling with a belly full of cum.

However much I'd given him, I launched more into his throat when he managed to reach my asshole with his long, probing tongue. He was rimming me from the front, using the impossible angle of his tongue to force my cock deeper into his throat, holding my lower body in the grip of something like a wet and fleshy finger hold. God, he worked my ass in tandem with juggling my once proud, now deflated ball sack.

He couldn't quite reach my prostate, but you take what you can get.

I hadn't prepared for this, but he didn't seem to mind. Every exquisite moment of pressure around every inch of my asshole made me roll my hips slowly, uncontrollably, indecisively, rocking first into his mouth, then back against his tongue. He was jerking me off and going down on me at the same time, and I came again and again like this, not caring how small my balls got. They would fill, I assume, if given the chance to build back up a nice amount of thick seed. He could suck me off until I started jizzing sand for all I cared. This wasn't a case of an impulsive hookup that ended too quickly and with too much regret for following my dick. There was no obvious endpoint except total exhaustion from one or both of us.

But surely something had to give. I could feel my sack lightening, nearly empty as I came endlessly into the demon's mouth. I palmed my balls again. There they were - or there they soon wouldn't be. He'd turned them into little marbles? then ball bearings? and finally, after one particularly long and hard orgasm, I just couldn't feel them anymore. I felt a particularly large glob of something travel down my dick - the remains of my balls, maybe - and then nothing. He'd sucked me as dry as it was possible to suck me, and though my cock continued to pulse in his throat, straining against its own skin, it simply did not produce anything.

Cheaper than a vasectomy, and a hell of a lot more fun.

The other perk was that because of the disintegration of my balls, he was able to hit my prostate with his tongue, now that there wasn't anything really blocking the organs path.

But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot. He too must have known that he'd swallowed my balls like a couple of runny egg yolks, because he withdrew his questing tongue from my anus and wrapped it back around my now-empty scrotum. He pulled my fleshy sack back through the glory hole - it almost didn't fit with all its thickness and mass, but he managed to slip it through with an almighty slurp that resonated through my thighs and brought my erection back to full attention. God only knew how the tape around the edges of the glory hole must have tasted, but I couldn't care about that right now - not with my entire junk in this demon's mouth.

I was glad I'd moved my hands to the top of the partition, because I was kind of at an awkward angle now that my hips were flush with it. Moreover, my arms and legs were starting to fall asleep, though that made the sensation thrumming through me from my genitals all the more powerful. He was sucking on my cock, my sack, his jaw apparently unhinged to take all of me into him and soak my needy, aching crotch with his warm spit.

As I was succumbing to the luxuries of this cock sucking, I tried to pull back, just a little, just to recover myself, just to, my head was swimming. I just needed a pause, anything. Too much of a good thing was too much. But I realized that I was fast in place. My cock, the sack, everything? It was pulled through the hole in bits, but now that they were one united squeezed together choked unit, I couldn't liberate myself.

I was stuck.

I didn't time him, but he finally removed his mouth from me after what seemed like an hour. I'd completely lost track of how long I'd been in there, and I didn't want to know. Nor had I expected to leave this place without my testicles, but even if I were shooting blanks for the rest of my days I could still cum just fine. That was a bonus in my book.

I leaned on the partition, catching my breath, flexing the muscles in my groin, twitching my cock in search of something, anything to rub it against. It didn't matter that my cock had been milked entirely dry. I could have kept going. But all good things had to come to an end.

Even so, I didn't hear the tap from his side that we'd agreed would indicate that it was time to leave. That was the etiquette, after all - the idea was not to see each other. The awkwardness of accidentally leaving our stalls at the same time would almost have been worse than someone walking in on us.

But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

I heard him draw a big, theatrical breath. It would occur to me later - too much later - that he'd intended for me to hear it. He put his lips to my cock - not over it, against it - puffed out his cheeks (I imagine), and blew.

I'd never once felt anything pushed into my cock, but today was full of firsts and surprises. A lungful of air rushed through my urethra and settled warmly in my scrotum, a heaviness almost replacing the mass of my former balls. But not quite. The ball sack swelled but it was not like the weight of my balls, it was massive, sure, but it was empty, just air. A nothingness that still had substance.

It was at this point that I decided to adjust my stance - the feeling was strange, but not unwelcome, and the least I could do was to get some sensation back in my limbs before he started going to town on me again.

I tapped the "pause" rhythm we'd agreed on and pulled my hips back.

Nothing. My sack was just big enough to be too big for the hole. I imagined it puffed up like a deflated birthday balloon, and just as wrinkly and empty. It was an alien feeling, trying to pull it through and only getting a weird tugging on my crotch, but not an unwelcome one. I could see any of this, but I felt it, I felt it growing, blowing up, getting bigger, bigger than big. It was, oh god, it was uncomfortable, weird, but the sensation of being filled was oddly satisfying. The way that my deflated ball sack inflated, the way the flesh that was stuck and clumped together slowly peeled from itself. I shuttered, my eyes fluttered.

He blew again, and I felt my sack grow heavier, tighter. I would have had a hard time walking normally if he'd left me like this - assuming I ever got unstuck from the glory hole. The front of my cock was feeling a little swollen, too. Whatever he was doing to my empty scrotum he must have also been doing to my foreskin.

I moaned as he blew me larger, as he inhaled loud, slow, and deep for me to hear. He wanted me to enjoy this, wanted me to anticipate every inch of the air he was blowing into me. And I was. I couldn't contain myself, it felt glorious. This glory hole was filled with such surprises that I just couldn't contain my excitement. I mewled. I whimpered. Oh, hell. What was the term for a reserve orgasm? I felt my cock swelling bigger than any erection I'd ever had, and my sack was starting to get tight and full, swollen against my dick like a balloon on the end of a tire pump. It must have looked comically out of place even on my large dragon frame, but it felt just right.

Over time I got pretty good at predicting when he'd run out of breath, how much he had in him with each inhalation. He had been huffing and puffing so long that it was hard not to understand the intricacies of my expansion. And again, it was one of those markers of the passage of time that I started losing track of the longer he went on and the bigger he blew my sack. I'd feel the skin of my scrotum get a little tighter, the wrinkles disappearing, but each breath would represent a little less of what he'd blown into me.

Because now it was his turn to fill me as I'd filled him.

I had a lot of time to think about what that meant to both of us. Me pouring my seed into him, him blowing his breath into me; we were filling each other with ourselves, trading essence - in a way, a horny impulse had turned into the most intimate connection it was possible to share.

Except that I ran out of cum. He couldn't run out of air as long as there was air to breathe.

This occurred to me about the time I felt my sack start to strain against the hole. I didn't feel numb or anything, like my circulation was being cut off; but I could feel my scrotum slowly creeping down the other side of the partition. Somewhere on the other end of the glory hole, my sack was inflating like a circus balloon. My cock was swollen and air-filled, but nowhere near to the lofty heights of my scrotum. It didn't hurt; I didn't feel overfilled. Like the orgasms my lover had given me that only ended when my balls did, there seemed to be no limit to the size of my sack as long as I had a sack to inflate.

I didn't even need to hold on to the partition anymore. I leaned back and sighed deeply, letting the demon do his work. The sheer mass of my ballsack - just my sack, really - was pinning me perfectly in the glory hole. I spread my knees and rolled my hips into the demon's huffs and puffs, giving my thighs over to the stretch he was imbuing into my junk. I was a living stretch.

Eventually I felt my sack puff up against something cool and curved on my right. The toilet, I realized. I was big enough to touch it - and then the cool dampness of the floor matched that sensation on the underside of my scrotum. Then the soft plane of the other partition.

I was filling up the whole other stall, I realized. My sack was almost as big as the rest of me. If I concentrated I could just feel my cock tilted slightly to the side. My demon lover must have shifted out of the way. Had he opened the stall? Did we no longer care about getting caught? Would he end up clinging to my sack like a fly on a beach ball?

Maybe he would. For all I cared, he could. There was nothing like a really good stretch, one where you felt like your bones could reach out of your arms if you bent them back far enough, but there was a limit to those. There wasn't a limit to this.

There was an almighty crack and a ripple through my whole body as the partition finally broke. The tape was laughably inadequate to hold it together, and the cracks around the glory hole had spread to the holes I'd accidentally worn in the wall. The entire point of my coming here had shattered upon my mighty sack, and feeling surged into it as the collar on my junk was violently sundered. I fell back against the wall behind me, limp at the sudden sensation, and realized that my scrotum was now puffed up large enough to rest against. If I pushed against the wall, I could rest on top of my impossibly inflated sack, roll around on top of it like a giant balloon.

There was no stopping the demon from blowing me bigger and bigger. I lost myself in the sensation of my sack growing as big as me, bigger, even dwarfing me as I felt it touch the ceiling. I felt spots of warmth appear and then disappear against my skin as my sack touched the ceiling lights and then smothered them. Whatever magic the demon was using on me, it was making my skin stronger than porcelain, stronger than wood, stronger than brick. And yet so sensitive and acutely aware of everything. Even the soft cool breeze of air sent scintillating sensations of sordid seduction spiraling throughout my very form. My engorged airy balls quivered. Goose bumps appeared on the smooth ballooned balls but immediately stretched into an excessively overtly creaseless unblemished surface.

And soon enough there was a series of cracks, the crusty sensation of mortar crumbling across my flesh, and a rush of cool air as I burst through the ceiling.

Where was the front desk lady? Who cared? What could she do? What could anyone do? I was already bigger than anyone alive. I could grow bigger than anything alive. Nothing in the world could grow bigger or more powerful than my empty sack. I'd made a deal with my demon lover, trading my testicles for the ability to become so much more. The feeling was numbing my mind, my thoughts. All I could think about was the pleasure of my expanded surface. It was magnified beyond anything I could ever conceive. I processed only a fraction of what pleasure was actually provided to me.

I was aware then of a pulling sensation, a series of tugs on the comparatively tiny point on the globe of my sack that my cock had become. It was kind of like my dick was the stretchy neck of a balloon, pulled by a clown to give him something to tie it off with.

I was being tied off, I realized. A deft tug sealed my cock in a neat little knot. My foreskin had been used against me often in sexual and non sexual play, but it had never really been used so exquisitely and to terrible effect. The knot I felt tied turned into a double knot. The demon didn't want any of what he had so laboriously put into me to some leaking out. And the next thing I knew, I felt a small, sharp point against my swollen sack. The demon was dragging it down my tight skin - a light touch here, a heavier pressure there, as if searching for precisely the right spot to? to what?

What was that wonderfully chilling feeling? I couldn't see. I just couldn't. Even if I had a clear view of everything, I doubt I could. I was positive the entire other side of the stall was completely overwhelmed with my massive ballooned ball sack. I doubted I could see my cock, nor the knot made with my excessively long and tough foreskin, nor could I see the perpetrator of all this. So, there was no way I could see what was being so tantalizingly dragged across my bloated, outrageous ball sack.

I didn't know what it was, could have been a needle, could have been a hairpin, could have been something from a body ring, but there was a distinct and obvious trait that I was acutely aware of, it was sharp. Extremely sharp.

This monster, this demon, this embodiment of lust was well versed and practiced in this type of thing. He came not to suck me dry, nor to devour my balls until they were empty, these were all just a byproduct of what he truly was here for? He was here to pop me. He wanted to blow me? And in a manner to which I have never experienced before.

I wasn't opposed to it. Not at all. The dragging of that sharp metallic object against my stunningly smooth ball sack was enough to make me whimper, my knees trembled and crashed against each other.

The answer came to me too late. It wasn't as if I could move. I didn't even want to move. But I was sure moving now. My scrotum, swollen bigger and rounder than a giant's snowball, burst like an overripe grape under an elephant's foot.

The pop was so loud that I couldn't even hear it, but I felt it, I felt it in my core. The deep rumbling that echoed and suffused your body.

I never did see what happened to the demon. I blew down trees for miles around. The sound echoed across state lines. What could survive at the epicenter of an explosion like that?

The pop only gushed out the hot and sordid breath that was breathed into me by this deranged lover.

But maybe he hadn't. I'd never been on the other side of a glory hole. Whatever I'd found being blown up the way he'd blown me up, maybe he'd found something similar huffing and puffing into my cock. Something worth risking it all for.

I just wish he hadn't stopped at building size. If a pin could make a crater like he'd made out of me, just imagine what I could have become if he'd puffed me up tall as a skyscraper. The world would never have seen it coming.

And hey, if it worked out for me, it just might have worked out for you.

The glory hole, the building, it was reduced to nothing. I saw stars. I was laying on my back, finally free, finally able to move. Even though I could didn't mean I would. I was basking in the wonderful euphoric feeling. That bliss after an intense orgasm. It wasn't an orgasm proper, but it certainty felt like an orgasm to the soul. And I went all out. Everything. I looked up into the azure sky? everything around me was barren. Sure, rubble was around me, but I had a clear and unobstructed view of the sky.

I laughed a little, blissful. I dare not look at what type of wreckage I incurred on my ball sack but I could only assume it was entirely gone.

And I was okay with that.
", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Blow Pop - Burst of Glory", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/plain", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "f", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "124" }