0 comments/ 11217 views/ 0 favorites Some Things Never Change By: Endlessly Footnote: This story is brought to you because a friend of mine bet me I could not work 'Nebraska' into an erotic story-- because, in her words, "Nothing erotic has ever happened in Nebraska." Judge for yourself. The saleswoman's head immediately turned when the man entered. He was in his thirties, muscular; not the most attractive man in the world by far, but he seemed to have an aura of charisma around him, something amazingly magnetic. She smiled at him-something more than the saleswoman smile, though she knew he was not who she would usually consider her type. He smiled back, cool and sophisticated, and threw in a knowing wink. He was used to it; had been ever since he was in his late teens. That's just the way his life was; the perpetual bachelor. It wasn't his fault if women kept falling in love with him; occasionally he gave them what they wanted, and all of a sudden that made him a heartbreaker, some apathetic scourge of the feminine population. He maintained that he had never used a woman. It wasn't "using" if they begged. Idly, he wondered how long it would take the saleswoman to beg. Not a conceited wondering, not to his mind; it was a simple statement of fact, and he was wondering how long it would take. He was wondering how long it would take... ...When he saw her. She was breathtaking, and oblivious to it. Tall, lean, lines where God intended them and curves where Satan put them to entice men from the path of righteousness. Pale, luminous skin with only a hint of freckles, as if it were dappled by the sun, and thick black hair falling to the waist. She was in her mid-twenties at oldest. And she had captured his attention.. And then she turned and accidentally looked him in the eyes. The delicate bone structure, the high cheekbones of a ballet dancer, the perfect obsidian eyebrows and well-defined lips of refreshing fullness were all lost on him. He knew those eyes. She had been shopping, oblivious; no attention was granted her from the saleswoman, at least, not as he had received it. When he had entered the store, she was holding an argyle sweater at arm's length and examining it; she had thought the feeling of something suddenly familiar was the sweater.. until she turned and accidentally looked into his eyes. The attractive nose strangely large for his face, the muscle structure, the dark hair-all forgotten in the wake of those cool, impassive eyes that had tortured her a decade ago. Some things never change. He knew her eyes were familiar; surely he would have remembered a body like that. But the eyes.. He knew them. And so he walked toward her, and she timidly stepped towards him, as if secret lovers about to dance. He cleared his throat and began exuding charm in her general direction. The saleswoman was crushed. The woman to which he spoke was bitterly, painfully amused. "Excuse me, but you look so very familiar.. I think perhaps we've met before. My name is Mike Chambers." The woman knew who it was from the moment their eyes had met, but she blinked a few times and timidly ventured speech. "Michael?" Christ. Who else had called him by his full name? Who else had that voice? "I don't think you'll remember me.. It's Ann. Ann Crable. Nebraska.." That was the only word he needed. Nebraska; that place seemed eons and inches away at the same time, looking at her. He remembered parting ways with her; a chaste hug and kiss, and the words she murmured in her amazing contralto. "You don't have to say anything, okay? I'm not expecting you to. But I have to say it: I love you." He had walked away. Wordlessly. She had offered him everything in three simple sentences, in three mere words; he had always envisioned himself a Greek hero, and it was so easy to see himself as Odysseus leaving Calypso. But then, that was the problem with being the eternal bachelor: he had no Penelope to go home to. No reason not to stay. "Of course I remember you! You look good. How are you?" He again flicked his eyes across her body, which was in the wonderful state between thin and voluptuous. "Yes, I've lost weight." Her smile quirked wryly. "The same old diet. I stick to the trite-but-true." He remembered her old joke: "I lost 20 pounds on the ultra manic-depression diet! I had a breakdown for breakfast, a breakdown for lunch, and then a sensible dinner!" Some things never changed. She brushed hair out of her face, revealing a long, thick scar diagonally across her wrist-a souvenir that wasn't there before. Then again, some things did change. "How have you been?" He thought of the miles, of the years, of the women. He felt like some middle-aged James Bond, drowning his memories in beauty and in one-night stands. It wasn't his fault if they fell in love with him. "Pretty much the same." "I see," she remarked in a tone that really said, "I'm sorry." He wanted to cry, or propose, or explain. In that moment he was closer to loving another person than he had ever been.. And there was no effort on her part to disguise the unabashed love for him that had existed during this decade of no contact between the two of them. She looked at her watch. "I have to go.. Perhaps we can get together for coffee sometime." He had a feeling that if he asked for her number, it would be an incorrect one. He knew it would never be arranged.. And was powerless to do anything but watch as the beautiful, devoted woman walked gracefully to the door. She had always been graceful; he had just never noticed. She turned around to face him for a moment, her voice slightly tremoring and higher in pitch. It reminded him of Nebraska, of their youth. "..Michael?" Hearing her say his name did something peculiar to his chest; he thought his heart would bruise against his sternum. "Yes, Ann?" To say she gestured weakly around the store would be to do her inner fortitude a disservice, but it was the only way her movement could be described, no matter how inaccurate. "I hope you find what you're looking for." She then turned her back to him for the last time, and left him quickly alone. He stood there, dazedly, staring at the door, when the saleswoman approached him. Now that the raven-tressed customer was gone, perhaps.. Just perhaps.. This saleswoman might have a chance. She turned on her charm, but it was as invisible as a lightning-bug next to a bonfire. "Can I help you?" He didn't answer, but continued to stare. She opened her mouth to ask again, wondering if he had heard her.. When he finally spoke. He shook his head as if dispelling a dream, and directed every ounce of charisma he had ever possessed at the saleswoman. "Maybe you can." The night was amazing. When the saleswoman asked Mike if she could help him, she didn't mean by wrapping her compliant, soft lips around the shaft of his cock, swirling her tongue around it as it slid deep into her throat, sucking his balls into her mouth. It just sort of.. happened. Like it always did with Mike. His life was an experiment in eroticism; a line of warm, wet pussies and soft, hot mouths and oddly innocent, worshipful eyes that scared him to look in sometimes. The smell of desire hung in the room like dense, gray fog; it clung to the curtains and the sheets like an obsessive lover and refused to leave. The low cacophony of fucking unbridled and unabashed began a slow climb, an easy crescendo that Mike controlled with flare as the woman completely abandoned herself, her inhibitions and her self-control in a way she never had before. Her legs remained wrapped completely around his hips, pulling him tighter and tighter into her, as if trying to somehow get her entire body to pass through his and into the other side.. The promised land? The place of milk and honey, flowing.. Fortissimo. Climax. Shaking spasms and exploding neural synapses like fireworks. Mingling bodies, mingling cum; the saleswoman fell asleep wearing only Mike's sweat.. And she was still asleep when Mike left her bed, without the strength to stay until morning. Driving home in the rain, the sound of his windshield-wipers mocked him as he tried to remember if he had called out the wrong name. Some Things Never Change Progress Report on 22-year-old male, professional gymnast Subject: Recovery from elective vertebrae-splitting, vertebrae-compression and vertebrae-enhancement operations, and functionality of vertebral column. Date: July 30, 2020 Patient has recovered sufficiently from experimental vertebrae-enhancement procedure. All eight of the vertebral segments that have been split horizontally, compressed and realigned have been shown to function fully on their own. Patient now has an additional eight vertebrae, all with full functionality. Experiment has been a success. Further study on patient's use of additional vertebrae in gymnastics exercises to begin tomorrow at nine a.m. Dr. Cheryl Wesson, Chief Surgeon Essex Hospital P.S. Patient has been observed utilizing new physical capabilities in activities not consistent with objectives of surgery. This may warrant further inquiry. ----------------------------------- July 30 My operation was successful! I'm going to become the gymnast I always wanted to be! I will smash Olympic records! Dear Diary, technology is a godsend! Richard ----------------------------------- July 31 My God, I discovered something this morning. I was stretching, reaching down to bring the tip of my nose to my knee when I realized my mouth could reach -- it. You know -- IT. There it was, a few inches away, but easily within my reach! It seemed to be waiting for me. It dawned on me that I was going to get more out of this operation than I thought. I was going to be able to -- Well, you know. And I did. I did it! I just reached over and took it right into my mouth! I could stretch my stretch body just like a cat. It had the most incredible feel. It was soft, silky, slippery, beautiful! Have I found a new love? Richard ----------------------------------- August 1 Dr. Wesson caught me this morning. I didn't even bother to close the curtains around my bed! She said to me, "Richard, yesterday and now today, I have observed some things that cause me concern." Her eyes immediately settled on the source of her concern. "Oh, no," I said. "I'm sorry about this. Excuse me, please." "It's not our policy to discourage your relief of your natural urges," the doctor continued, "provided that it is done in private." "Yes, Dr. Wesson. It's just that I came across this quite by accident. I've hardly thought of anything else. In fact, I'm afraid to tell my girlfriend about it." "Mr. Smith, you have a session at nine a.m. today. This will be our last analysis of the functionality of your vertebral enhancements. What I wanted to say is that sexual activity -- and the prolonged stretching that you exhibited just now -- so soon after the operation may jeopardize the health of your spine." "I see. I never thought of that. Yes, Dr. Wesson. Thank you very much." Was she envious? "See you at nine." Then she left the room. I looked down at the offender peeking innocently at me out of its pajamas. We smiled at each other. It looked to me like it wanted some attention. It seemed to be begging. So I reached down for it. Again. "No! Have some self-control! You're a gymnast, not a … a common masturbator!" And then I shook with disgust at myself. Yuck! Richard ----------------------------------- September 3 I valiantly waited the recommended month before engaging in strenuous stretching. And gymnastics aside -- I am perfecting the art of fellatio. I have learned how to take my entire seven inches down my throat. I've quieted my gag reflex, too. I feel very much at home when I do this: it feels something like nursing. When I come, the sperm shoots right down my throat, although sometimes I prefer to swish it around in my mouth. I feel so -- self-contained -- when I do this. Mary and I have been taking turns sucking me. First I'll go all the way in, and then she will take me in as far as she can, then I will, and on and on. Sometimes we fight over it in the morning! I had hoped that only I would know when I was about to shoot, so that I could surprise my Mary, but it seems she can sense the signals that my body is giving. That Mary is so smart! It is such heaven to share a gift like this with your partner. I wish everyone could do what I can do. Richard ps. I'll have to ask Mary what she would do if she had this ability. ----------------------------------- August 14 I genuinely love my cock. I love to feel the sponginess of the head. I love the feel of the hot liquid squirting down my throat. I hate to say this, but I am becoming better than Mary at sucking cock. I welcome my cock every morning with an unbridled enthusiasm. Each morning, I wake up with the sun, Mary, and my beautiful cock. As soon as I open my eyes, it's in my mouth. Mary has to take it out of my hands and mouth to keep me "from getting addicted to it," as she says. Richard ps. Mary says she doesn't know what she would do if she could pleasure herself with her own mouth. She told me she hasn't even thought about it. ----------------------------------- October 15 All desire for sex with others is beginning to die. I am starting to feel that I don't need Mary anymore. Truth be told, I am becoming more self-sufficient than I wanted to. I rarely leave the house. Would you, if you could do what I can do? Diary, my gymnastic workouts have reduced in frequency. My trainer quit on me when I told him what I was doing with my new back. All I can think about is my newfound ability. I stay in bed almost every day. The university kinesiology department has threatened to sue me if I do not continue training. Considering that they paid for my expensive operation, I am in quite a bind. Mary wants to know why I don't go down on her as much. Should I see a therapist? How am I going to explain this to a therapist? I can just see him or her, sitting over on the couch, talking about Freudian oral fixations but really thinking, "Where can I get this surgery?" One day, after I went for groceries and returned, I went at it again in the garage. Mary could tell as soon as she kissed me what I had been up to. "If you don't get some self-control, you're never going to compete again!" she kept telling me. But I don't have it. Even those increasingly few times Mary wants to watch have only stoked my passion more. Richard ----------------------------------- Dearest Diary, Why does he prefer that thing over me? Am I not good enough? Don't I make him happy? Is something wrong with ME? Mary ----------------------------------- October 23 I've started giving private shows for money. Big money. When Mary found out, she threatened to leave me. One day, she tasted mouthwash on my breath in the middle of the afternoon. "Tell me the truth, Richard." "Okay, Mary, I did it again. I gave a show and I did it again." "This is the last straw, Richard. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's like you're daring me with that thing. You're no gymnast anymore; I'm dating a guy who does nothing but suck his own cock." "Are you jealous?" "Richard --" "Just tell me, Mary. If you could do what I can do, would you?" She frowned at me. "Richard, it's like you're using your penis to say, ‘I don't need you anymore, Mary. Watch and I'll prove it.'" "But I do need you." "You need me to watch while you fuck your own mouth. That's not what our sex life is supposed to be about, Richard. I want to suck it, too, you know." "Mary, you can suck it all you want." "I've sucked it only TWICE in the last month. And I hate to sound selfish, but I haven't been getting any in return that whole time! Richard, it's me or that damn cock." "Don't talk about my cock that way." "That cock is causing our relationship a lot of problems, Richard. You know that, don't you?" "Yes, I know it. But if you could do what I do--" "That's why I don't want a backbone like yours, Richard. I don't want to spend my days eating my own pussy while life passes me by. It's me or that damn cock." "Mary, I told you. Don't talk about it that way." "Well, then you've just settled it. Either you get some help, or I find a man who will share himself with me." Diary, I shuddered. I couldn't let Mary leave me. I couldn't. "What do I have to do to get help?" "You have to work with a psychiatrist," she told me. "You have to divulge everything you've been doing. You have to listen as I complain about how this ability of yours has affected our relationship." "Mary, I don't know if I can talk about this to a therapist." "I'm laying out your options, Richard." Richard, Who Is Really Worried ----------------------------------- Psychiatric Case Report #30356 Autofellatio in a 22-year-old male Richard, an athletic young male, was referred and accompanied by his girlfriend of two years, Mary, a vivacious and energetic young woman. She initiated the interview while he sat nervously and refused to make eye contact. She complained that the enhancement of his spine has resulted in autofellatio so frequent and enthusiastic that he has refused intimate contact with her. He has jeopardized his future as a gymnast and may face a lawsuit from the university. Richard complains that Mary does not fellate him adequately. When she faced him as he disclosed that, he looked away. Mary notes that he has never said that before. She suggests they discuss his lack of satisfaction at home, to which he reluctantly agrees. When asked whether he was breast-fed, Richard immediately replied, "Oh, yes, Mary lets me all the time." After the question was clarified to refer to his mother instead, Richard answered "no" and became silent and thoughtful. Patient has insisted on displaying his activity. Although gathering further information by watching a display has been seriously considered, it is ultimately rejected as unnecessary. Richard insists on explaining his "routine," offering a written description full of flowery and explicit language. The grandiose descriptions of his behavior bear further mention in the diagnosis that follows. "Well, I make a big production out of it. I stretch and bend for the video camera. Then I just reach in for it. Slowly and playfully. I've got a full-length mirror strategically placed on the wall of my bedroom so I can watch myself while I'm being taped." [Mary registers extreme surprise and anger upon learning how the video camera has been used. She reports that she has not known about this.] "I can feel my vertebrae stretching out. I bend my neck all the way forward, past my stomach, to where my cock is standing at attention like a soldier, waiting for me, ready. Down below, my hands are always busy waiting for my tongue to join them and make love to my now-throbbing, pulsing tower of flesh. "Finally I slink my backbone down farther. That's when I part my legs gently and bury my nose in the thick bush waiting for me. I feel the coarse hairs bristle on my tongue. It's heaven! "Sometimes I have to stop to remove a pubic hair from my mouth. "It's not like this mere sucking of the tip that some guys can do after months of swinging their legs over their heads. I can take it all! "I lick up the underside, over the head, stopping to tickle the eye, then go down the top side. I flick it back and forth, then nibble it gently so I can feel the velvety mushroom head in my mouth. I love that velvety mushroom! I circle it several times. Then I place it on my cheeks, across my lips and chin, and across my neck. I feel the wetness on my cheeks. "In one motion, I plunge it all the way into my mouth, banging the back of my throat. In and out I plunge my wonderful lover, sucking in, sucking out. I run my tongue over it and underneath it. "I especially love it as I watch myself in the mirror, my head bobbing up and down like I'm giving it a daily cleaning. Like a cat. "Finally I feel the surge along my shaft, the one that tells me I am about to get to the best part. I tighten the suction and prepare as a wave of hot liquid sweeps over my tongue and into my mouth. I swish it around my mouth, bathing my throbbing cock with it. I even like to smack my lips on the salty cream. I look into the mirror, watching the white fluid drip down my chin; then I lick it off, obscenely and lasciviously, slut that I've become. I swallow it with a loud gulp. Following that, I milk it heartily for the last good drops. "Then I keep it in my mouth for a little while, letting it rest in there like a pacifier. And that's it. Almost the same routine every time." Mary notes with a look of disgust that Richard has been "licking more than what he says." She exhorts him to explain, which he does in person. "Well, sometimes my tongue goes farther down. I mean, way farther down. It's the weirdest thing. I haven't done it much; there are hygiene issues that I am attentive to. But if you can lick that part of you, I'm convinced you can do anything. "So I look into the mirror and see myself reach out my tongue and just lick it. My tongue bristles when it touches me there, but the sensations just destroy me. And they make me come very hard." Mary reports that she has not seen this particular activity, but that Richard admitted it to her on one occasion. DIAGNOSIS OF CASE #30356 What is remarkable about Richard is how much he has allowed medical progress to initiate such a severe change in personality. His ability to fellate himself has disconnected him from other people, as well as from the need to derive pleasure and gratification from other people. As he admits, however, the operation only brought out something he knew he had in him. The persistent pattern of avoiding other people indicates Avoidance Disorder. The excessive and damaging fixation on his penis suggests traits of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He displays a sense of physical self-importance and a feeling that his penis is magnificent. He displays a lack of empathy toward his girlfriend. He has shown no concern for the contract he signed with the university to test his gymnastic abilities. Richard has construed his unique ability as justification for excessive admiration. Additionally, he takes advantage of his girlfriend's attentions to exploit his sense of entitlement, much to her anger. In his written description, his self-involvement is couched in terms that suggest narcissism, not a healthy curiosity about his body. FOLLOW-UP Richard agreed to participate in psychotherapy. Treatment consisted of abstinence from self-gratification, and scheduled sessions of lovemaking with Mary. Emphasis was placed on mutual oral gratification. Richard appeared regularly for his weekly sessions and talked happily about his progress. Mary reported satisfaction with his progress. Treatment lasted exactly two months, then terminated successfully. An interview with Richard's girlfriend two weeks after termination disclosed that she ended their two-year relationship due to a severe relapse on his part. She cried uncontrollably during the interview. Just after treatment ended, he withdrew into increasing self-absorption, along with renewed oral gratification of his own penis and ingestion of his own sperm. Following repeated angry arguments in which Richard refused to begin treatment again, Mary stopped seeing him. She reports frustration on her part and complete indifference on Richard's part. Richard's final words to her were the following: "No one understands me, Mary. Try putting yourself in my shoes. The independence is more than I can describe. I am completely happy, I get what I want, and I do it how I want." After that, she had no more contact with him. ----------------------------------- January 1 It's the two-week anniversary of Mary walking out on me. I'm fine without her. All that psychological treatment was too much for me. I am in a unique position, and I will not give it up. "I will never date again," I told my reflection this morning. "Who needs a partner? They can't suck a cock to save their lives. The only way you can get something done right is to do it yourself. Who says celibacy can't be hot?" I am turning over a new leaf. It's New Year's Day and I have made a resolution: I will stop feeling guilty. And in the future, there will be more people like me. Women as well as men. We will see the powerful lure of this ability and how it makes a person into a self-sufficient individual. Don't kid yourself, those of you who will read these words in the future. When you ask yourselves, "Would I, if I could?" the answer will change your lives. I resolve not to date anymore. I'm not even going to bother showing my unique ability to others. Who am I trying to impress? And the university has decided to sue me for breach of contract. I'm not worried about paying them --pornographers will line up at my door once I tell them what I can do. I will have a new career doing what I love best. I will command large sums of money. The world will watch me with envy. So, Dear Diary, when I woke up this morning with a welcome hard-on, I smiled to myself. No need to hint to anyone what I need. Instead, I just curled down a few inches, slid my waiting friend down my throat, and made love to myself once again. I felt so at home. I heard the paperboy toss this morning's paper onto my porch. There was a men's gymnastics tourney last night. Some of the guys I had trained with over a year ago were in it. Oh well, maybe I will get back into gymnastics. I'm a very limber person. Na. Richard, Who is Finally Happy Some Things Never Change