2 comments/ 4095 views/ 2 favorites Total Narcissism Ch. 01 By: analogkid678 My name is Steven, I'm 24, and I am a narcissist. Not in the psychological disorder way, but in the "I really want to fuck myself" way. I absolutely worship myself because I know I'm incredibly sexy. When I'm alone (which is most of the time) I like to jerk off in front of the mirror, admiring my gorgeous body and cock. I even take pictures and videos of myself and jerk off to those. I'm my own personal porn star. I have a foot fetish too, and I of course love worshipping my own feet along with the rest of my body. I'm so flexible that I can lick and smell my gorgeous size 12s all over very easily...one of my many talents. One of my favorite things to do is to get home after a long day at work, take off my sneakers, and deeply inhale the smell of my sweaty feet. That's usually enough to get my dick hard right there. The other night I was in the process of making one of my videos. Sitting at my desk, rock hard 9-inch cock in hand, clicking through the many photos of my face, my body, my cock and my feet on my computer. Oh, about my face...god damn I'm hot. I am without a doubt the sexiest guy I've ever seen. Hell, the sexiest PERSON I've ever seen. My short, blonde hair...my cute, kissable lips...my beautiful blue eyes, begging me to stare into them forever. My body is slim and smooth, perfectly chiseled but not overly jacked. I naturally take great care of my body because I worship it. Those mirrors in the gym are amazing. A picture of my sweaty feet flashes across the monitor and I start jerking faster. I stare into the camera's red light. "Keep jerking, Steven," I moan to my future self. Saying my own name is so fucking hot. "I know you love this big cock. You fucking love yourself, don't you Steven?" I imagined myself responding yes, as I inevitably would. "You can't wait to shoot that big load staring at yourself. You worship yourself, you dirty fucking narcissist." That word always turns me on. It's the perfect description of what I am...totally devoted to myself. Everything I was saying was incredibly sexy, and I knew it'd be even sexier when I watched it back. I knew my future self would be turned on immensely, and the knowledge that I could do that to myself made me even hornier. I know exactly what makes my cock hard. "Are you gonna swallow that big load Steven?" I asked knowingly. "I know you want to shoot that hot cum right in your mouth." Oh yeah, there's that too. A side-effect of my natural flexibility, physical wellness and having a big hot cock is that I can suck myself off. Not just the tip either...I can get at least halfway down usually. I don't do it all that often 'cause it is still kind of painful, but I don't think I need to explain how great it is having this amazing dick in my mouth. Jealous yet? For now though, I was content staring into my future self's eyes, stroking my perfect dick to pictures of myself. I opened my Facebook page and scrolled through my photos. I insist on having a picture taken of myself on virtually every outing I go on. I don't have a lot of friends; I don't need more than a few; but I value the ones I do have, more or less. Most of them don't know what I am. They stand next to me smiling, totally irrelevant to this photo as far as I'm concerned. I've opened these pictures so I could see my smiling face, the embodiment of perfection. Something about jerking to myself during these more "normal" moments feels so much dirtier. On the wall in front of me, at a very carefully chosen height, is a tall mirror so I can admire myself in real time. Many times have I made out with the reflection in that mirror and cum all over it. I'm in bliss, surrounded by my perfection. Alternating my gaze between the mirror and the monitor, I start to become overwhelmed by my beauty. I divert all attention away from my recording and lose myself in myself. "Oh god, Steven," I gasp, tilting my head back while I stroke my full nine inches. "I love you so much...I love you, Steven...I love myself." I look back down at the image on the monitor; my college graduation. I was an amazing student. It's not just my appearance I love; it's everything. Seeing myself beaming proudly, diploma in one hand, was indescribable. "God I'm amazing," I said loudly, getting off on my own physical and mental perfection. My self-worship is truly limitless. "Fuck, Steven...I am so perfect," I said breathlessly as I approached climax. I rapidly jerked my cock, camera still recording, staring at my sexy face. "No one is sexier than me...I love myself." I began to feel my orgasm welling up inside my dick. Unable to resist, I leaned my head down just far enough and pointed my shaft in the right direction, careful to make sure every moment would be recorded satisfactorily. I didn't want to miss out on watching this moment over and over again. My delicious cum exploded out of my perfect dick, several blasts landing perfectly on my tongue and supple lips, others staining the perfect skin on my handsome face, and a few more landing on my hard abs. I licked my tongue as far across my lips as it would go, pooling as much of my cum in my mouth as I could before gratefully swallowing it all. Watching the video back later, I noticed a subconscious look of pleased euphoria on my face as I swallowed my own load. What a privilege to swallow such a gorgeous guy's cum. I spent the next few minutes guiding the cum to my mouth so it could be properly savored. Just another part of me subject to unconditional worship. I looked into the camera once more and licked my lips; partly to seduce myself, and partly in hopes of more cum to taste. I winked at myself (that always drives me crazy) and stopped the recording. After a minute or two of recovery, I watched the video back. As soon as I heard my sexy voice, my dick started to get hard again. Immediately I knew I'd have to cum again. I'm just too hot to resist. I also have incredible sexual stamina. I once came five times in a row over the course of three hours just worshipping myself. God I'm incredible. "You fucking love yourself, don't you Steven?" the video asked. "Fuck yes," I replied. "I love worshipping myself. I am the hottest person in the fucking world." I jerked my hard cock, already prepared to shoot my second load. I looked in the mirror and lifted my feet up, showing myself my gorgeous soles. Unable to resist them, I pulled one foot up to my face and ran my tongue from my heel to my toes (I told you I was flexible). My feet were still sweaty from getting home from work an hour earlier; just the way I like them. The sweetly bitter taste of my own sweat seemed to make my cock even harder. I took all four of my lower toes in my mouth at once and flicked my tongue across them wildly. I slid my tongue in between my toes, licking up even more of my sweat. "Are you gonna swallow that big load Steven?" my recording asked. I took my toes out of my mouth to respond, "Fuck yeah Steven. I can't get enough of my fucking cum." I continued licking all across my sole, enjoying every bit of sweat I could taste. I made sure to examine my foot to see any remaining dry spots so I knew where to lick...and also because my feet are stunningly sexy. Within seconds my entire sole was covered in my saliva. I shoved my size 12 foot in my face and rubbed its moisture all over me until my face was equally covered in spit. Every part of my perfection was coming together in a symphony of narcissism. By this point in the video my past self had started focusing on his own orgasm...as I often do. Seeing myself so engorged in my own sexiness never fails to make me want to cum. I'm perfect and I deserve to be worshipped, and as far as I'm concerned I'm the best man for the job. Nobody could possibly worship me as thoroughly as I do myself. I turn myself on, and that fact in itself turns me on even more. It's a beautiful cycle of self-lust that I never want to break. I'm a narcissist, and I have an insatiable fetish for my own narcissism. I was close to cumming again; only about seven or eight minutes after the last time. How can anyone be this fucking sexy? I lifted my foot up level with my dick, and slapped my cock against my sole in a sexual frenzy. "Fuck, Steven," I moaned to myself. "Shoot that cum all over your own feet. Cover those big, sexy feet in your cum, Steven." As I looked up to the video, my recording said, "No one is sexier than me...I love myself." As I sensed his orgasm approaching, I was subconsciously encouraged to reach mine. Our orgasms were in perfect synchronicity. I blasted my cum across my sole in three long bursts as my recording tasted his cum on his lips. Without hesitation, I leaned down and began licking my delicious semen from my feet. This time I could sense that look of self-satisfaction as I swallowed. How could I not be satisfied with myself? A lot of people feel guilt or embarrassment after they masturbate, especially in such a passionate way. Not me. These two hard orgasms back to back made me feel so wonderfully close to myself. As I sucked up and swallowed the last bits of my cum from my cute toes, I leaned back, closed my eyes, and quietly breathed, "I love you, Steven." Total Narcissism Ch. 02 While I am very in love with myself, it's not that uncommon for me to seek worship from other willing parties. I'm frequently online searching out men and, much more rarely, women, who are enthusiastic about showing me the reverence I deserve. The gender doesn't matter to me, because I'm not really doing anything to them anyway. Most of the time when I meet up with someone they don't even get an orgasm out of the deal, and they're fine with that. I'm not really interested in pleasuring someone else, and the kind of people I look for aren't really interested in being pleasured. I frequently post videos of my narcissistic indulgences on streaming social porn sites, partly for the exhibitionistic thrill of showing myself off, and partly to read comments from people showering me with well-deserved sexual praise. I deeply love getting complimented. People telling me how big my cock is, how hot I am, how much they want to worship me...it's enough to get me hard in an instant. It's nothing that I don't tell myself on a daily basis, but it never gets old regardless. The videos I post hold nothing back with regard to my narcissism. I can tell a lot of guys on there are narcissistic themselves, but are hesitant to say so because of the social stigma. And I do get a lot of "negative" feedback from some people, telling me I'm full of myself and things like that. Little do they know that comments like that only make me hornier. As I've said, I love the fact that I'm full of myself and I wouldn't have it any other way. I take great pleasure in spitefully jerking off to their comments. But most people, to no surprise, love my work. Submissives worship me and dominants admire me. They adore my self-lust almost as much as I do. They beg me just for a chance to get close to me and help get me off. A few guys have told me I've inspired them to explore narcissism for themselves, which really gets me hot. It really illustrates how much influence I have on people. From time to time I'll Skype with a lucky someone who's been begging to worship me. I'll insist they don't show me their cam, as I don't care to see them anyway. They seem to really like the degradation. I will let them talk to me though, so I can hear them express their desperate admiration for my perfect body. Just the thrill of being acknowledged by someone as amazing as me is usually enough to make them cum in about five minutes. Their orgasm in itself doesn't excite me, but knowing that it was done in reverence of me does. I make it clear to them that just because they came doesn't mean their job is finished. It's done when I say it's done. They usually respond with an appropriate "Yes, sir," before continuing to tell me how honored they are to talk to me and how sexy my body is. They know their place. Eventually I cum, moaning my own name as usual, barely acknowledging their participation. I give them a terse goodbye and usually never speak with them again. I don't want anyone to get too attached. I'm pretty easy to fall in love with...I should know. Recently, a couple days after recording my latest video, I got a message from a guy who lives about half an hour from me. He said that narcissistic guys were his biggest turn-on, and that I was the sexiest guy he'd ever seen. He especially loved my big size 12 feet and the way I so effortlessly licked and sucked on them. He said it would be the greatest honor of his life to show me my due adoration and just maybe get to touch my feet. He didn't say anything about licking them, though he obviously wanted to. I'm pretty sure he was just hesitant to step out of line talking to a man of my stature. He offered me to meet up at a place of my choosing so that he could bask in my presence. Intrigued, I messaged him back a date and time along with the location of my favorite public restroom where I usually do things like this. It's a pretty secluded place near a park, so hardly anyone comes in, but there's always the thrilling chance. An hour before we were to meet, I freshened myself up to my satisfaction. I have very high standards for my appearance, which I'm always able to meet. Admiring myself in the mirror after I'm done is one of my favorite things to do. Often, as on this occasion, I'll stand there nude for 10 or 15 minutes at a time, striking poses, rubbing my body, running my fingers through my hair, seductively stroking my cock, and winking at myself. "God damn I'm fucking hot," I said to my reflection, staring into my own eyes. I lifted my legs up one after the other to examine my feet; flawlessly clean and sexy as ever. I couldn't resist taking a nice big lick of each one. I wanted to get my feet smelly before I met this guy; having just washed and with only an hour to go, there wasn't much time to do so. I wasn't sure if he wanted my feet to smell, but I did, and that's really all that matters. Luckily I keep a pair of black socks around that I haven't washed for at least six months. I wear them on days when the thought of my smelly feet particularly excites me. I also like to smell the socks themselves while I'm jacking off sometimes. After a strong sniff, I put the socks on and do the same with my oldest, dirtiest, most worn-out sneakers. I figure it should only take about ten minutes to get my feet nice and stinky again. When I arrive at the meeting place around 11 PM, the guy is there outside the restroom island waiting for me. He looks about 30, average size, not bad looking. I didn't ask about his appearance before we arranged this because it wasn't important. The fact that he's a fair bit older than me is a turn on in itself; he's six years my senior and yet in minutes he's going to be on his knees treating me like a god. As I get out of the car, I spot him wearing a nervous half-smile, fidgeting with his fingers. He looks terrified but excited, like he's wanted this for the longest time. I can't blame him. "Are you ready?" I ask him. "Y-yeah." I make a "follow me" gesture into the restroom, which he naturally obeys. I lean against the wall and tell him to get on his knees. "Alright, boy," I ironically say to the older man. Already I'm establishing that I'm above him. "I don't have time to fuck around. Tell me why you wanted to see me today." "I...I wanted..." he sputters, before gathering his thoughts. I don't think he's done this before. "I wanted to worship you, Steven, as much as you worship yourself. I love the fact that you're man enough to realize that you're perfect, and you're not afraid to tell everyone so. And...I really..." He started stammering big time. "I'd really be honored if I could just...touch your beautiful feet." "Good boy," I responded. A lot of doms would be insulted by someone calling them by their name instead of sir or mistress, but I'm not like a lot of doms. I love hearing my name, because it reminds me of all the times I've yelled it in the throes of passion. "Well, it's your lucky day. Take off my shoes." His eyes lit up as I extended my right leg toward him. He reverently untied the laces of my black Converse sneaker, seeming to force himself to be slow about it. He finally pulled off my shoe and began to set it aside. "Uh uh," I blurted out, somewhat offended. He froze, terrified. "You worship me, don't you?" "Yes sir," he cautiously replied. "Then you need to worship every single part of me, just like I do. Everything that comes off of my body. You need to worship the ground I walk on. Do you understand me?" "Yes sir." "Then smell my shoe and tell me how you like it." He did as he was told, planting my filthy, beat-up shoe to his face and sniffing it deeply. He coughed abruptly; I don't think he expected quite a smell. "Oh god, sir," he said as he caught his breath, "They're really stinky..." "Do you like that, boy?" "I...uh..." I could tell that he didn't. "Don't you appreciate me? If you're not going to properly worship me than I'll happily go home and do it myself." "No no," he exclaimed nervously. "I love it, sir. Please let me smell your other shoe." "That's it, boy. Now give me that one so I can see how fucking good I smell today." He handed me my shoe and I enthusiastically sniffed my own disgusting sneaker. It was an incredibly strong smell created by shoes and socks that had never been washed, and my feet which were prone to get very smelly anyway. I had exactly the opposite reaction from his though. I inhaled my stench and let out a content sigh as I felt my dick get harder. "God my shoes smell so fucking good," I moaned loudly. I heard him let out a small moan of his own, clearly stricken by my love for myself. He began unlacing my other shoe as I continued enjoying my own scent. He slipped off my size 12 sneaker and showed how quick of a learner he was by immediately diving into it nose-first. I couldn't tell if he was starting to like it or just doing what he was told. Either way, my power over him was intoxicating; almost as intoxicating as the smell of my shoe. I hesitated to stop, but it was time to move on. I put down my shoe and told him to do the same, before shoving my socked foot in his face without warning. Immediately I saw him wince, apparently still taken aback by the smell. "Are those socks nice and smelly? You like that?" "Yes sir," he muffled from behind my sock. As I looked down at him, all I could think of was how good my feet looked in those socks and how badly I wanted to smell them. Unsatisfied with his work, I pulled my foot away and took my sock off, bringing it up to my face as my bare foot touched the cold floor. I once again sniffed deeply as my inferior looked up at me, seeming somewhat embarrassed. My cock got completely hard in my jeans as I sniffed my own sock, which was even smellier than my shoes. I quickly bent down and grabbed my other sock off my foot, shoving both of my socks into my own face. "Fuck, my socks are so fucking stinky," I moaned to myself as if there were no one else in the world. My back slid down against the wall as I got off on my socks until I was sitting on the floor, my feet flat on the ground. The other guy meanwhile had quietly slid back and began jerking off at my solipsistic display. After a few moments I remembered myself and noticed what he was doing. "Yeah, you like watching me worship myself, faggot?" That seemed to excite him even more, as he stroked faster and nervously nodded. I extended my legs out so that my bare soles were facing him. As I expected, he immediately began staring at them. I would too. "I bet you'd love to get your hands on my big, sexy feet, wouldn't you?" He let out an audible moan and nodded quickly. I beckoned him over and he crawled to my feet. Looking to my eyes for approval, he carefully grabbed my right foot with both hands as I slowly stroked my cock. He rubbed it reverently as I continued to take occasional sniffs of my socks. "Tell me who the sexiest person in the world is," I told him. "You are, Steven. You're the sexiest person in the world," he rightly responded as he rubbed my perfect feet. "You fuckin' got that right," I moaned, and jerked myself with increased vigor. I looked up at one of the mirrors on the wall; too high to see anything through it. I wished I could see my face right then. "Lick my feet," I ordered. He gasped and froze for a moment, as if he'd just won the lottery. What he'd actually won was even better. I was actually envious of him, getting to experience my gorgeous feet for the first time. He slowly but eagerly lifted my foot up to be level with his face, and moved his nose in. He sniffed deeply, again wincing at the smell but seeming to enjoy it a bit more this time. I smirked as I grabbed his nose between my toes, causing him to moan softly. I lifted my other foot and rubbed it against the side of his face. I could tell he was in heaven. I know I would be. Finally, grabbing one in each hand, he started licking my feet. Quick, soft licks and kisses against my heels and toes. To be honest, it was a little underwhelming. All I could think of as he pecked my feet repeatedly was how much better I would do. How passionate I would be with my feet in my mouth, sucking my toes, running my tongue all over my soles, tasting my delicious sweat...I was unsatisfied with his job, not to mention jealous. Somewhat frustrated, I pulled my feet away from his grasp. I took my right foot up to my face and immediately slid my tongue from my heel to my toes, savoring the taste. I did this several times, soaking both of my feet in my saliva while my sub looked on with the strangest combination of disappointment and arousal. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed him slowly beginning to masturbate again. As if I cared. I was too enamored with my incredible feet, desperate to receive the proper worship they deserve. I kept jerking off my huge dick while I licked and sucked every inch of my own feet. "Fuck I love my feet," I moaned, as he backed off a little bit, seemingly happy to observe. Good thing, since I'm always more than happy to show off. After several minutes, I refocused my attention. Standing up, my slick wet feet touching the floor, I stared into the mirror while continuing to jerk off. I slipped my pants off my legs and walked up to the gorgeous man looking back at me. "I love you," we said to each other. The other guy moaned audibly. He really did have a narcissism fetish. How fortunate he was to witness this firsthand. I lovingly gazed into my own eyes as I'd done thousands of times before. I slowly approached the mirror, continuing to jerk my cock. Closing my eyes, I subtly opened my mouth and kissed my beautiful reflection. I heard more moaning from behind me, barely audible over my own. I made out with myself for what seemed like ages, occasionally opening my eyes to be able to see my handsome face. I only wished that it was a full-length mirror like mine at home, so that I could rub my cock against it. Nonetheless, I was in truly narcissistic bliss as I got lost in my own perfection. Part of me wanted someone to walk in right then and be totally stunned at such graphic self-lust. "Oh...fuck..." I barely heard from the inferior. He let out a series of sporadic moans that made it seem like he was cumming. I didn't know for sure because nothing was going to pry me away from myself. As I opened my eyes to take in my sexiness once more, I had to stop and appreciate how amazing I looked. I stared at my face, moaning, panting, looking and feeling like pure sex. I was getting close to cumming just by admiring myself. Knowing I'd want that sweet load in my mouth, I laid back down on the ground so that I could catch it when the time came. My eyes glanced over at the other guy, who was sitting against one of the stalls with a small amount of cum on his shirt and hands, still enjoying the show before him. Knowing his orgasm was in dedication to me caused me to jerk off more vigorously. I began mindlessly yelling tributes to myself. "I love you, Steven...no one is sexier than me...god I want to taste my cum..." Driven wild by my extreme passion, I bent down and took my 9-inch dick between my lips, earning a small gasp from the other guy. I bobbed up and down on my delicious cock, easily taking the entire head into my mouth. God I love being perfect. As I eagerly sucked my own dick, the still-present inferior shyly chimed in, "Sir, would you like me to suck your cock?" I immediately stopped, took my mouth off my dick, and gave him a look to express my dismissal. "No," I plainly responded. He didn't say a word after that, but I think he actually liked it. He enjoyed that I wanted nothing more than to have sex with myself and no one else. I wasn't even willing to let someone else give me a blowjob. Why would I when I was starving for that cock myself? And starving I was, for my cock and my cum. I was determined to suck that load out right onto my tongue. I sucked up and down quickly, getting progressively deeper and deeper. My muffled moans vibrated my dick even further. Even though I do it all the time, I felt so honored to be able to worship myself. To be able to do anything I want with the sexiest man alive. After at least 10 minutes of sucking myself off, I began to cum right into my own mouth. My moans were deafening as I became desperate to swallow every last drop of my seed. Shot after shot of sticky cum hit the back of my throat, and I gleefully sucked down each one. I gratefully lapped my tongue at the head to catch and taste as much as I could. Not a single speck of semen dripped out of my mouth. I was behaving precisely like the narcissistic cumslut that I am. By the time my cock was spent and I pulled the top half of it out of my mouth, you could hardly tell it had even ejaculated. It was still almost completely hard; my dick takes quite a while to "deflate" after cumming, another of my amazing traits. I sat up from my contortionist showcase, panting and licking my lips for any spare drops of my cum; there weren't any. As I glanced over to the other guy (I'd almost forgotten he was there), he was jerking off again, staring longingly at my slowly softening cock. I looked down at it and noticed there was a small drop of cum that had just leaked out. I turned my head and asked my inferior, "Do you want it?" He breathlessly nodded yes. I smirked, looked back at my dick, bent over and licked up the last drop, but didn't swallow it. I stood up and casually walked over to him until I was standing above him, looking down at his face. He looked up at me, unsure of what to expect, but still jerking. Satisfying his wish in my own way, I spit my last bit of cum along with a big wad of saliva right in his face. He winced and groaned uncomfortably, but only jerked his dick faster. I gathered my shoes, socks and pants and left him there alone to finish himself off with my spit sliding down his cheek. I didn't bother putting my clothes back on; it was past midnight so no one was around, and I wanted to admire my naked body on the drive home. As I got in the driver's seat, I put my clothes in the passenger's and made my way back home, satisfied with another day of self-worship. After about five minutes of driving, I reached over and grabbed my shoe and gave it another good sniff. It's hard to exaggerate how addicted I am to the smell of my sweaty feet. I instantly got hard again and began jerking my exposed cock. After a few minutes of that, I took my sneaker and placed my gigantic cock inside of it...luckily my shoes are just the right size to accommodate it. Feeling the head of my dick touch the inner toe of my shoe turned me on so much. Most guys wouldn't be able to reach that far, but my 9-incher made it easily. God I am fucking amazing. Luckily the roads were pretty much empty so I could focus on my own euphoria. My goal was to cum before I got home. I stared into my eyes in the mirror while jerking off my cock with my incredibly smelly shoe. As usual for my second jerk in a row, I didn't last very long; maybe about 10 minutes. It took all I had to keep from veering off the road as I shot a heavy load right inside my disgustingly sexy sneaker. By far not the first cum it's taken, and certainly not the last. The downside was that I couldn't taste all of that cum, but the advantage was getting my shoe even nastier than it was before. I slowly and sensitively pulled it off of my dick and put it back on my pile of clothes to let the stain of my cum sink in. There was still some semen glazing the top of my dick, which I happily scooped up and sucked off of my fingers. I looked in the mirror once more, licked my lips, winked, and told my reflection, "I fucking love you, baby." When I got home, I carried my clothes inside, walking in my dirty bare feet. I looked forward to licking them clean tomorrow. For now though, I was content to go to bed naked beneath the full-length mirror on my ceiling. If you've read this far, the fact that I have one of those really shouldn't surprise you. Total Narcissism Ch. 02 The next morning, I woke up, smiled at the ceiling, and got out of bed to check my messages on the computer. I'm always eager to see who's admiring me now. As I casually massaged my soft, bare cock and balls, I noticed a message from the guy from last night. It read, "Thank you, sir. I'm extremely grateful to have witnessed you worshipping yourself, to have tasted your feet, and felt your spit and cum on my undeserving face. I'm sorry that I was not sufficient in serving you, but I know no one is really capable of doing so but yourself. You are perfect." I smiled and quickly replied, "I know." There was another message. The subject line said "Hahaha" from someone called "i_worship_myself." I furrowed my eyebrows curiously. The message read, "I just noticed your profile and saw that you consider yourself perfect. I watched a few of your videos and I have to say I think you're exaggerating just a bit. You're hot, don't get me wrong, but I don't think you've seen real perfection. I noticed you live about an hour away from me. Message me back if you want to see what true perfection is." He gave me a date and location to meet him. I was really taken aback by this. I've received plenty of positive and negative feedback before, but never anything like this. I checked his profile; no photos, no videos, no information. That's probably why I'd never seen him before, I thought. Judging from his username...could he be a narcissist too? I'd never met someone like me; why would I bother? But his message intrigued me...I even got a little turned on by him implying that he was perfect. I wasn't quite sure how to react to this, except I knew that I had to meet him. "I'll be there," I replied. Total Narcissism Ch. 03 I drove over to the location designated to me by the mysterious messenger. For the first time I could remember, I was actually...nervous. This was a guy who wasn't submitting to me. In fact, he seemed truly dominant in his tone. I sure wasn't about to be dominated, but I found myself oddly interested in what he was saying. I think I'm attracted to the fact that he might be narcissistic...just like me. It's a bit ironic, being attracted to someone because they share your love of being attracted to oneself. But I'm used to sexual oddities by now. As I drove, I calmed my nerves by looking into my reassuring eyes in the mirror. Besides the obvious sexual attraction I have for myself, there's also a romantic, comforting connection. I'm able to cool myself off during rare moments like this by reminding myself that I'm perfect and nothing can really get me down. Extreme self-confidence has its benefits. I pulled up to the address around 9PM; a beautiful house, one in which anyone would dream of living. I found it hard to believe that one man could live in such a palace. But then, if he really was a narcissist, maybe he felt it's what he deserved. I pulled up the driveway and stepped out of the car, glistening clean and sexy as ever; on my feet I wore my old socks with a somewhat cleaner pair of sneakers than I'd worn in my last encounter. I knew my feet would get nice and smelly on the long drive over anyway. I walked up to the front door, a shining oak monolith, and knocked politely. After a few moments, the door opened to reveal the home's occupant. My god was he hot. "Glad you could make it," he said smoothly. He looked to be slightly older than me, with shoulder-length blonde hair and not a single body hair to be found. I knew this because he answered the door in a towel, his hair still dripping wet. His jaw was firm but subtle, his eyes blue and deep. His face invited me with a cocky smile. His abs were...just like mine. His feet looked soft and smooth like the rest of him, probably a size 10. All I could think was...maybe this guy really is perfect. "Please, come in." His voice was masculine yet slightly boyish. He opened the door fully and turned to lead me in. I slowly followed him, somewhat dumbstruck. The inside was spacious, with several rooms blending together without walls. "Have a seat right over there," he said, motioning to one of two lounge chairs in what looked like a parlor area. I sat in the chair for one as he walked into another part of the house. "I just need to finish getting dressed," he called. "I'll be with you in just a minute." I looked around and noticed that there were no couches anywhere; no loveseats. No seating that could support multiple people. There was something in multitudes however: mirrors. Some small, some full-length, strewn all around the house a healthy distance from each other, as if you'd never have to look very far to see yourself. Why hadn't I thought of that? He returned perfectly dry, sporting a white T-shirt and white boxer briefs which did little to conceal, and much to accentuate, an impressive bulge. I wore the same kind of underwear for precisely the same reason. He smirked at me and extended his hand, which I accepted. I can't say I was expecting a handshake. "Steven, right?" he stated, rather than asked. He'd obviously watched my videos. "I'm Nathan. A pleasure to meet you." "Likewise," I stumbled out, uncharacteristically. Nathan took the seat directly across from me. It was very strange, sitting in two opposite single-person chairs looking straight at each other. I thought of why he'd done that, and could only come up with what I would do: sit in one chair and put a mirror in the other. This guy had really thought of everything. He sat with his legs apart, making the huge package in his underwear even more blatant. "Steven, I'm sure you've figured out by now that the reason I wanted to meet with you is that you and I are very much alike." He spoke clearly and precisely, as if he was very used to talking. But his tone and word choice were not what one would use in conversation with most people. "I've seen what you do...what you say. You're a very remarkable man. I haven't met many like you; like us. It's always a pleasure to do so, though never more than a passing meeting. It's sort of...reaffirming to know that there are others who lust for themselves as I do for myself." As if I needed any confirmation, there it was. This guy was a narcissist through and through. "I must apologize for my tone in that message I sent you. I felt you wouldn't pay me a second thought unless I threatened your sexuality." He was right, though I wasn't about to tell him that. "I discovered your videos two weeks ago. I confess I've masturbated to them. I allowed your worship of yourself to fuel my own narcissism, and it felt incredible. The thought of sharing this love for ourselves together, to be separate yet connected in sex, was too enticing not to chase. And so I asked you here." I'd gotten semi-hard just listening to him. I inhaled and exhaled deeply. This was all very clean-cut. "So that's it? You just want to get off to yourself while I do the same?" "Essentially. You are a very, very handsome man, Steven." Now he was talking my language. He smirked again. "Just not as handsome as me." I can't quite describe how that made me feel. Insulted, shocked, in disbelief...turned on. 'Who does this guy think he is?' I thought. 'More handsome than me?' I concealed my cognitive dissonance with a self-satisfied laugh. "I would quickly disagree with that," I replied. "Of course, and I knew you would. Because that's who we are. And that's what makes it so much fun. You think you're perfect just as I think I am." He began casually caressing his bulge. I wondered if he was showing off or just felt the urge to grab himself. Either way, I was a bit mesmerized. I wondered how his cock compared to mine. "Although," he continued, "I do have one thing that is objectively superior to yours." 'No way,' I thought. 'His dick can't be bigger than mine.' My face must have betrayed my thoughts, as he slowly pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. It wasn't even totally hard and it must've been seven inches. I had to see how big it would get. He wrapped his hand around his slowly stiffening cock and began to stroke it lovingly, smirking straight at me. "That's pretty impressive," I complimented. "How come you don't show it off online?" "I don't get any pleasure from letting others see my cock," he said, the last word sounding even dirtier than usual given his proper speech until now. "At least, not average people. I have an extensive collection of videos that I can privately enjoy showcasing my self-worship." "What do you do in these videos?" I asked. He looked all too happy to answer. "Well, I always look directly into the camera so that I can stare into my eyes when I watch the video later. I talk to myself, encourage myself in my narcissism..." He leaned his head back slightly and jerked a little faster. "I start most of my videos fully covered and slowly take off my clothes, teasing myself seductively. Rubbing my gorgeous body, licking my lips, grabbing my bulge...by the time I'm naked, my 10-inch dick is totally hard." His cock had indeed gotten hard now as he was stroking it and dreaming of himself. It definitely looked to be ten inches; one bigger than mine. Damnit. "That sounds a lot like what I do," I said. "Doesn't it? But there is one thing you do that I'd never thought of...your shoes." There were naturally plenty of videos online of me smelling and fucking my sneakers. "What can I say? It's one of the things I love most about myself...and there's plenty to love." "I have to commend you," he said, as he continued to stroke his cock in full view. "I'd never thought of my feet or shoes as objects of attraction, but since watching your videos I've begun to realize how beautiful my feet are as well." To demonstrate, he briefly stopped jerking off to bring one of his size 10 feet up to his face and give it one big lick from heel to toe, mimicking what I'd done countless times. At least my feet were bigger than his. "Delicious," he breathed, resuming jerking himself off. "Now, your turn." I wasn't expecting that. Regardless, I didn't exactly need any motivation to lick my own feet. I began with my right foot, pulling off my red Converse and shoving it in my face. After all of this conversation it felt good just to smell myself again. "How does it smell?" he asked me. I scoffed. "Amazing, as always." I pushed my face into my filthy socks and inhaled their unwashed stench, having absorbed the dirt and sweat from my feet for months. I moaned audibly, causing him to moan a bit as well as he stroked his huge cock. I took off my socks and stuffed them inside my shoes on the ground before deeply sniffing each one of my perfect feet. "Your feet look pretty big," he commented. "Size 12," I proudly declared, before hungrily taking my own toes into my mouth. I worshipped my feet as I had done countless times, as thousands of people had seen me do in person and online. But this time felt different; as if I had something to prove. Like I had to show this guy just how narcissistic I was. And I was just getting started. "You really love yourself, don't you Steven?" Nathan asked, jerking his rock hard dick. I finished licking up my sweaty sole to answer, "Fuck yeah, I fucking love myself," never taking my eyes off of my beautiful, soaking wet foot. "If you weren't here I'd still be licking every part of my body I could." "Which is most of your body, isn't it?" I smirked up at him briefly. "You've seen me suck my cock?" "I've seen all of your videos. I want to see what you can do firsthand." Happy to oblige, I pulled off my pants and underwear to reveal my throbbing cock, begging for attention. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, I moaned, "Fuck I love my big cock." I was beginning to get lost in myself. I stared into one of the nearby mirrors which gave me a full frontal view of myself as I began to jerk off. I smiled happily to myself and jerked my cock to my handsome face. "God I am so cute," I said, shaking my head in disbelief, my sly smile causing me to jerk my dick even harder. "I am so fucking in love with myself." "What would you do if you saw that guy on the street?" Nathan asked me, motioning toward 'that guy' in the mirror. The thought had never crossed my mind. As strange as it may seem, I'd never considered separation of myself into another person. It'd always been enough just to love myself and my body. But the idea intrigued me. "Well, I don't think I could resist running up to him and grabbing that big bulge," I said, all the while smiling into my own eyes. "I'd tell him how hot he was and beg him to get into bed with me." "That's a little forward, isn't it?" "I told you I couldn't resist. Of course he'd accept because I'm equally as gorgeous as he is. We'd be perfect for each other...besides just being perfect in general. I'd start by sucking his cock, just like this..." I bent down and effortlessly took my rock hard dick between my lips. I grabbed my leg for support and sucked the head into my eager mouth, allowing my delicious cock to muffle my loud moans. I got a good four inches in my mouth before bobbing up and down, covering my cock with my saliva. As I glanced up from the corner of my eye, I noticed Nathan pulling out his phone. He continued jerking off as he began filming with his secondary hand. Most people would've been bothered by that, I guess. Why is this strange man filming me? What is he going to do with the footage? Who is he going to show? But I didn't care. Somehow I knew he wouldn't do anything with it besides watch it himself, and even if he did show people...I kind of wanted him to. The more people who witness my perfection, my reverence toward myself, the more turned on I get. He could show it on the national news for all I cared. I quickly forgot about my clone fantasy. All I wanted, needed, was right here in front of me; in my hands, in my mouth. I smirked around my dick, seductively eyeing the camera, enjoying the attention as always. As narcissistic as Nathan was, he obviously enjoyed watching others to some extent...or maybe it was just me. I tend to have that effect on people. Swallowing down a wad of precum, I leaned up slightly and looked straight into the camera. "You better send me a copy of that footage," I said smiling, before getting right back to blowing myself. While my position wasn't the greatest to do so, I peeked at the closest mirror to see my gorgeous face getting filled with a good chunk of my nine inches. Sometimes I wish I could just step outside myself to see my self-copulation, witness someone in full autoerotic bliss in real-time. I almost envied Nathan in that way. Not that I would ever want to be someone other than myself. Perish the thought. After a few more minutes of sucking myself off, I sat up and began panting heavily; autofellatio is tiring work. Nathan got up and handed me his phone. "My turn," he said. He grabbed the nearest mirror (just a few feet away) and laid it on the floor. It was about five feet long. He kneeled on the soft carpet and nodded at me. I pushed the record button. He immediately stared into the eyes of his reflection and continued masturbating passionately. "Oh God, Nathan," he moaned. That turned me on more than I was expecting. "Fuck I'm so fucking hot!" My dick somehow got even harder than it was, and I jerked off more vigorously. I'd never actually seen anyone else do what I do. It was incredible. His eyes went all over his body, especially down to his dick. "Stroke that gigantic cock Nathan," he said, his voice quickly escalating in volume, "cum all over yourself!" I couldn't believe it, but I was about to cum watching someone else. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done that. Nathan bent forward and began lovingly kissing his reflection, moaning his name in occasional breaths. That did it. Completely lost in Nathan's narcissism, I shot my load all over the place. Some of it got on the mirror, and without even thinking Nathan happily lapped it up. He leaned up again, beating his ten inch cock furiously. "Cum for me Nathan," he yelled, "you gorgeous son of a bitch!" As I sat there trying to catch my breath, Nathan came all over his mirror; at least six or seven jets of cum covered his beautiful reflection. I saw his eyes fixed to his other self, clearly taking in the sight of himself getting covered with cum. I know because I've been there many times myself. After a few moments of euphoric recovery, I stopped recording, and he slowly stood up and sat back down in his chair. "Bravo," I said, casually tossing him his phone. "And to you as well." I was not accustomed to the pleasantries that followed. Usually I cum and leave, maybe humiliating the willing worshipper I happen to be with even further. But this time we made a little small talk, got dressed, and he led me to the door. "I'll be sure to send you the videos," he said as I stepped out. "See that you do. Will I see you again?" "I'm not going to say no. But surely you don't need me?" "I guess you have a point there. Take care." He politely nodded me goodbye and closed the door as I turned and traversed his driveway once more. On the drive home I couldn't help but think about the strangeness of what had just occurred. I'd actually gotten off to Nathan rather than myself. Going in I was sure it'd be the other way around. I wasn't really sure what to think. I still had it on my mind the next day. My usual masturbation sessions weren't quite as amazing (though still pretty great). I kept wanting to experience that again; not Nathan in particular, not necessarily. I wanted to see someone worship themselves. Better yet, I wanted to teach someone to worship themselves. Total Narcissism Ch. 04 "What did you have in mind?" he asked timidly over his drink. "I was thinking I'd make it a surprise," I replied. He looked off into the distance and pondered a while. His name was Taylor and I'd been chatting him up for the last hour or so. We were sitting by ourselves in a booth at this bar, the name of which I hadn't bothered to commit to memory. I don't go prowling for guys very often. Usually they come to me. But this was a special case. I was looking for someone young, impressionable, open-minded, and sexy of course, to satisfy my urge for narcissistic conditioning. At 21 years and 17 days old (he told me precisely as much; I didn't ask why he was counting), Taylor was just young enough to be open to suggestion while still knowing what he was doing. I estimated he was about 5'9" and 130 pounds. His modestly cute face and slightly grown jet-black hair in the emo style that's so popular these days comfortably satisfied the sexiness criterion. On his feet were well-worn low-cut black Converse sneakers, the kind of shoes you can smell just by looking at them. He wasn't as extroverted as his attire would suggest. When I came up to him he seemed a little intimidated (not new for me), and it took him a while to start speaking to me in polysyllabic words, then complete sentences. But I'm nothing if not charming, and he soon warmed up to me well enough. We both knew where this was ideally going to go, so I wasn't shy about bringing up our prospects for the evening. After a bit of casual prying I'd discovered he was very sexually adventurous, a necessity if I was going to convince him to do something most people consider to be disgusting or comical, if not both. He said he was into bondage, which didn't surprise me much given his dark attire laden with various metal accessories. Nothing extravagant; a belt holding up his jeans, a chain hanging out of his pocket that I assumed was attached to a wallet. I'd mentioned to him that I had an extremely uncommon fetish, and that seemed to pique his interest. I decided not to tell him exactly what it was straight away; I wanted to get him into it in the heat of the moment, in an attempt to keep him from backing out. I thought if I told him right then that I wanted him to be obsessively sexually attracted to himself that he would probably walk away, a reaction to which I am certainly not accustomed. He turned his head back around to me. "Alright," he said. "You've got me interested...and very curious." We made our way back to my car. I hadn't been drinking that night, as I wanted the psychological advantage. As I drove us to my place, I dropped a few direct compliments here and there, hoping to stroke his ego in preparation for what was to come. "You sure are a handsome one," I said, briefly turning my head to look at him. He laughed quietly and blushed a little. "If you say so," he murmured. Upon reaching our destination, I led him into my bedroom and sat on the bed, well-made. I laid back and relaxed as he somewhat awkwardly walked toward me. "So when are you planning on telling me?" he asked. For all his meekness, he was being awfully anticipatory. "In time, don't worry. For now why don't you keep things simple and get on your knees?" If I didn't know any better, I'd think he'd forgotten all about my surprise by the look in his eye. He quickly did as he was told and began undressing my lower half. Pretty much every guy I get with is visibly grateful for having me, and Taylor was no exception. I was seriously looking forward to his reaction when he pulled out my huge dick. "Oh my god," he said as he unzipped my pants and pulled out my nearly-hard eight inches. Taylor was my first lay in a while who hadn't seen my cock on the internet first. He stared at it reverentially for a few moments, slowly stroking it, seeing if he could make it even bigger. I was more than happy to oblige. I promptly became completely erect, and my nine inch dick stood beautifully in his hand. "This is easily the biggest dick I've ever had my hands on," he said, a little short of breath. "Yeah, I get that a lot," I responded, smirking at myself in the full-length sliding mirror door that concealed my closet to the side of the bed. Taylor was too wrapped up in my hard-on to notice. "Well, are you gonna put it in your mouth or just stare at it?" Taylor's body jumped slightly, as if removed from a daze. He shook himself alert and immediately wrapped his lips around the head of my cock, getting the head and a small portion of the shaft wet and ready. Once he had me sufficiently lubricated, he began happily sucking up and down my dick, getting progressively deeper with every few bobs. He took in as much of it as he could, with both small, supple hands wrapped around the shaft. Taylor was an amazing cocksucker, and he was perfectly content servicing me for a good 15 minutes. He was so beautiful sucking me off, and I couldn't wait to make him understand just how beautiful he was. I really couldn't wait. "Alright Taylor, I think you're ready for your surprise." He pulled his tight little mouth off of my dick with a loud pop. "Oh man, I can't wait," he said, breathing heavily after just giving one hell of a blowjob. "Stand up," I said, and he gingerly, excitedly, got up off of his knees. I followed, pulling up my pants a little as I stood. "Now stand over there," I said, motioning toward the mirror on the wall. I followed him over to it and made a quick gesture toward his reflection. "Now look in there." Starting to look confused now, Taylor nonetheless did as he was told and looked into the tall, reflective rectangle of glass. As he adjusted himself to this mildly embarrassing situation, I began my approach. "Taylor," I asked cautiously, "have you ever thought about how sexy you are?" "Um, what do you mean?" he mumbled. His eyes veered toward my reflection, standing behind his. "Have you ever looked in the mirror and really stopped to appreciate your gorgeous features?" I asked, as I began lightly stroking each of his slim, defined arms from behind. "Uh...I don't know, not really. I don't think so." "You're telling me you've never stopped and realized how incredibly gorgeous you are?" "I...I don't..." His voice trailed off as his eyes went to the ground. "Shh, shh, it's okay, just relax. Everything's alright, it's just you and me here." While I was largely trying to sway this boy for my sexual interests, I sincerely felt the need to comfort him as well. He was so vulnerable and helpless and beautiful. "Just you and me talking. Okay?" "...Yeah." Back to single syllables again. "Now, you can't tell me you don't even know how handsome you are." His eyes stayed on the floor, and he pouted just slightly. He was quiet for a long moment. "I mean," he began hesitantly, "I know I look okay and everything but I don't stare at myself in the mirror or whatever." "Why not?" "I...because that's weird." "I don't think it's weird." He continued staring at the ground uncomfortably, apparently unsure of what to say. "Come on," I said, trying to be encouraging, "you can't honestly tell me that when you look in that mirror you don't see an incredibly sexy young man." He wouldn't look, so I delicately grabbed him by the chin and pointed his eyes forward. "How many guys have you been with, Taylor?" "A few," he muttered. "Did they think you were sexy?" "I...I mean...I don't know." "Oh don't be silly. Tell me, when you hook up with guys, are you usually the one who makes the proposition?" "N...No..." "Oh? Why not?" "I've never asked a guy out. They always come up to me." He shrugged shyly. "Why do you think that is?" "I don't know." More adorable shrugging. "Because I'm sexy I guess." There it was. "Oh? What did I just hear? Say that again while you look into your eyes." He hesitantly shifted his gaze where I directed him. "I'm...I'm sexy..." He stopped frowning. His expression was more plain now. How I longed for a cocky smirk. Suddenly he threw the backs of his hands up to his face and turned away. "Oh god, this is so weird," he whimpered. I instinctively wrapped my arms around him and just held him as he put his face in my shoulder. I'd only known this boy for a few hours but I somehow felt like his protector. But from whom was I protecting him? I didn't want to console him too much. I wanted him to believe that it wasn't a big deal, because it wasn't. I wanted to say 'I've done it thousands of times,' but somehow that didn't seem so prudent. "Come on Taylor," I said softly. "Why don't you take off your clothes so we can see some of your best features?" Asking a guy who was already embarrassed to death to take off his clothes. Man I have some balls. To my mild surprise, he said, "Alright." I think the fact that getting naked in itself was familiar to him made things easier, even if he usually isn't being told to stare lustfully at his own body. I helped him take off his shoes, socks, pants and shirt. The smell from his shoes was overpowering. I wanted to just shove it in both of our faces and enjoy his incredible smell together, but we weren't quite at that point yet. As we both looked at him in the mirror in just his tight, grey boxer briefs, I immediately noticed a gigantic bulge. "Wow," I said, legitimately taken aback. That dick seemed way too big for such a small guy. "Well, you must be enjoying this a little bit if you're so hard." "Uh, I'm actually totally soft right now," he muttered, even more embarrassed. "It doesn't really get any bigger. It just kinda gets hard and straight." "So how big is it?" "Seven and a half." "Your cock is seven and a half inches soft and you don't look at yourself in the mirror every day?" He giggled, trying to hold it in and failing. "Listen," I implored, "why don't you take that monster out and show the both of us what you can do with it?" He gulped quietly, and pulled down his waistband to pull out his huge, floppy cock. He bit his lip seductively, probably subconsciously, as I saw his eyes divert to his dick. "Now, doesn't that feel better?" I asked. "Look at that big thing. Isn't it beautiful?" "I...I don't know," he muttered, clearly aroused by showing it to me but still tentative toward my suggestions. "Sure you do," I insisted, as I grabbed his flaccid yet enormous dick, deliberately pointing it at his face. "We both know the answer to this question, so just tell me: is it beautiful?" "Y...yeah..." he let slip out, breathing heavily now. "Yeah what?" "My cock is beautiful..." "Do you really believe that, Taylor?" I asked, now stroking Taylor's dick toward him slowly and loosely. "You like the way your cock looks?" "Yes...it's amazing," he replied, nervous but eager. I released my light grasp as he carefully—reverently?—wrapped his hand around his dick. I kept a close watch on the direction of his eyes, and not once did they deviate from his slowly stiffening cock. I laid back on the bed, and gently glided him down to lay beside me. "Tell me how much you love your cock, Taylor." "Oh god...it's just so big...I love it when people stare at my bulge through my jeans. When my friends notice, I act like it embarrasses me, but...I love the attention so much." "They should be staring, Taylor." I continued to subliminally drop his name to get him used to hearing it in this context. I was hopeful to get him to say it himself soon...moan it...yell it...beg for it. "Yes...I deserve to be stared at," he said confidently, slowly stroking his cock. "Tell me what your friends say about your bulge, Taylor." "Whenever I'm at a party I always get one or two comments about it," he said between soft bursts of air. His cock was completely hard now and he looked like he was resisting jerking it much faster. "I've heard some people call me 'Big Dick Taylor.' I usually try my best not to get too hung up on it. I think all of my friends have seen me pull it out at least once." "Do you like showing them, Taylor?" "Yeah," he responded, in more of a breath than a word. "I remember the look on each of their faces when they saw it...they couldn't believe I had such a monster between my legs." With those last few words, his hips bucked as though his "monster" was listening and flexing proudly. "It's not just your dick though, Taylor. You are absolutely gorgeous...every inch of you." I gently caressed his perfectly smooth, bare, pale abs and chest. I wondered how much more ego stroking I could get away with before he backed out. "Frankly Taylor," I began, sliding down the bed and taking his boxers down his legs as I did so, "I think you're absolutely beautiful. Don't you agree?" "Yes," he said, in one long, drawn-out breath. I slipped his underwear past his ankles, grabbing a deliberate grope of his cute feet as I did so. They twitched lightly in response. "Yes what?" I demanded. "I'm beautiful." "Say it again, louder." He did so. "I'm so fucking hot," he elaborated, quickly jerking his cock now. "I bet you want to fuck yourself right now." "Oh god yes," he yelled, speeding up at the thought. "Tell him what you want," I said, gesturing toward the mirror. He slowly stood up and walked forward, never breaking eye contact with his reflection. I slipped my pants off again and stroked my dick along with him; he didn't notice. I knew he wouldn't. "I want you," he told himself, leaning his left hand against the mirror. "So take him," I said. "Take yourself." Taylor continued to maintain eye contact with himself, placing his right hand against his counterpart's. He separated his two pairs of eyes for the first time to scan his body up and down, from his smooth, black hair to his equally smooth, small toes. His gaze returned to his face, and he closed his eyes completely. I knew what was coming next, because I've done it myself more times than I can remember. He slowly, passionately leaned in to the mirror; to himself. When his two pairs of lips made contact, I knew I'd succeeded. Taylor was at that moment officially a narcissist: so self-indulgent and autoerotic that he would press his lips against a sheet of glass to merely pretend that he was able to make love with himself. Closing his eyes simply adds to the illusion that he's really kissing someone. But it's no fun to think this way; pretending, illusions, make believe. As far as I was concerned, he was making out with himself, end of story. And holy fuck was it hot. I kept jerking my cock, endlessly proud of what I'd accomplished, as Taylor went completely open mouth with his reflection, his right hand going back down to his dick. He looked somewhat uncomfortable, being forced to keep his lower body several inches further away from the mirror to make room for his massive, rock hard dick. I found it hard to feel sorry for him though. "Oh god," he slurred between kisses, "I can't believe I've never done this before." "Tell him how you feel, Taylor." He took a moment to really comprehend what I was asking for, continuing to make out with his reflection as he rapidly beat his cock. "I...I love you," he muttered, briefly removing his lips from the reflection and opening his eyes. He propped his forehead against the mirror, staring deeply and lovingly into his pupils. "Do you mean it?" "Yes...oh god yes," he growled, jerking slower but harder and keeping eye contact. "What's his name?" I asked, anxiously stroking my now soaking wet dick. "Taylor...I...I love you, Taylor." He seemed almost on the verge of tears. But I noticed his right hand hadn't stopped moving. "I love myself." "That's perfect, Taylor. You're perfect." "I know," he said, still looking into his eyes. The shadow of a smirk flashed across his face. "I hope you don't mind if I intrude?" I said, stepping off of the bed and kneeling next to him. "Not at all," he responded, slowly turning away from the mirror. Most people—actually probably anyone but me—wouldn't have noticed the trace of disappointment in his voice. In response, I did for him what I would want in such a situation: stroke his ego even more. "God Taylor, your cock is so big," I moaned sincerely, grabbing it by the shaft. He hummed deeply, with confident satisfaction. I took his dick into my mouth, doing some humming of my own. I couldn't help but catch a few glances of myself in the mirror to my left. Man I looked good sucking cock. Taylor put one hand lightly on the back of my head. I had a suspicion that he'd never been on top before, which only made his quick self-lust training all the more impressive. I bobbed up and down on the first few inches of his dick, making plenty of noise, partly to turn him on, and partly to hear my own voice. I kept it steady in my mouth by keeping a firm grip on the last three or four inches with my left hand while my right jerked my own huge cock. I pulled Taylor's dick out of my mouth, taking a gasp of breath as I did so. "You're so fucking perfect, Taylor," I said, before taking a few more quick sucks. "No one you've ever been with has deserved you." I sucked him some more. "They were all inferior to you." I sucked some more and he moaned loudly. I took that to mean he liked being compared favorably with other people; I know the feeling very well. "Tell me," suck, "has any guy you've been with before today had a dick bigger than yours?" "No," he breathed, "not even close. And they were all tops." I was right, of course. He moaned loudly again; he clearly had never even thought about comparing himself to past partners before today, and his superiority was turning him on. "And how did they look?" I asked, putting his dick back in my mouth as soon as the question had left it. I really couldn't get enough of tasting that thing. "Were they as hot as you are?" "They were all hot, or I wouldn't have fucked them," he responded, grabbing ever so slightly at my hair now. "But none of them compared to me." He bit down on a breath escaping his throat, and tilted his head sideways to gaze into his eyes once more. "I'm fucking hotter than all of them," he said to himself with certainty. I sucked his cock faster. My jerking hand briefly stopped to rub his toes. I couldn't resist; he didn't react. I did my best to deep throat him, but that was pretty optimistic. I got about six inches in before I gagged audibly and had to pull off. "So fucking delicious," I rasped, quickly resuming blowing the world's newest (and for my money, second hottest) narcissist. "Fuck my mouth," I insisted. He complied a lot more quickly than I was expecting, grabbing my head with both hands and shoving his monster cock right down my throat. I gagged and sputtered for a few seconds before regaining my composure, taking the face-fucking like a man. "Yeah, take my fucking huge dick," Taylor said, becoming the most dominant he had ever been. "You're so fucking lucky to get to suck this dick." "Yes I am," I replied, in between forceful thrusts past my tongue. He pulled out for a few seconds to allow me to properly breathe. "Anyone would be lucky to just be in your presence, Taylor." I was being very careful to show him reverence while not really becoming submissive myself. As badly as I wanted him to be narcissistic, I wasn't keen on giving him dominion over me any time soon. Of course, that wasn't terribly obvious given that I was kneeling before him with his precum and my spit covering my face, my hand furiously stroking my dick. "Yeah they would," Taylor said. "Because I'm a fucking god." I wasn't expecting that. I came within seconds; the biggest I'd shot in a long time. It began unloading on the wooden floor, until I deliberately aimed at his feet. After the first few blasts, he positioned his feet closely together to accept as much of my cum onto his toes as possible. My memory of this moment is fuzzy, probably because of a lack of blood to my brain or something, but he told me later on that I was really, really loud. Total Narcissism Ch. 04 I knew what I was to do next. I immediately got on my hands and knees, licking up my own delicious cum from his adorable feet, the feet I'd been lusting after since we'd first met and they were held snugly in his sexy sneakers. "That's right bitch," he growled, "worship at the feet of your fucking god." I glanced up and saw his cock turning bright red as he jerked himself into a frenzy. I stuck my tongue in between each of his toes; finding my cum there was just a bonus to getting to lick his feet. I chuckled to myself as I reflected on my desire to not be submissive; if licking up my own cum from these incredibly delicious toes meant that I was being a sub, so be it. "I am so fucking incredible," he moaned, getting more intense with each word and making out with himself some more at the end of the sentence. I finished off the last of my cum from his toes, then licked up the first few jets off the floor before returning to his feet. My dick was already starting to harden again, unsurprisingly. "Fuck, I'm getting so close," he moaned, barely removing his face from the glass. "Do you want to taste yourself?" I asked. "Oh god yes," he responded. I don't think the thought had occurred to him. He laid down on the bed and I positioned him such that his legs were over his head and his dick was hanging above his face. His feet came off over the foot of the bed, where I sat on the floor and admired him. I finally got an up close look at his soles, and officially got hard once more. He jerked his cock aggressively while I began licking his small, cute, modest feet. "God I fucking love myself," he yelled, implicitly begging for his own cum. "What's your name?" I asked, putting his big toe in my mouth. "Taylor," he moaned. "Louder." "Taylor," he yelled in ecstasy. "I fucking love you, Taylor. You're the hottest guy I've ever been with, Taylor!" My hand and my cock began their second round together as Taylor was looking to finish his first. His toes curled as my tongue slid up to his soft heel. "I am a fucking god! I deserve to be worshipped by everyone!" His voice kept getting louder as his exaltations of narcissism kept getting more extreme. By now I was sure I would cum again within minutes, and I couldn't fathom him lasting much longer either. "I wanna fucking cum in my mouth so bad," he yelled. "I need to taste myself! I love you, Taylor! Taylor...Taylor..." He kept moaning his name softly. Just hearing himself say his name sexually was turning him on. As for me, his gorgeous soles were doing their part to turn me on. "I love you, Taylor...cum in my mouth...please, give me that fucking cum, Taylor..." He completely separated from himself. He was his own sub now. I sucked on three of his toes at once. "Cum in my mouth, Taylor...I want it so badly...you're a fucking god, Taylor...no one is hotter than you...ahhh..." And with that, he stuck out his tongue, opened his mouth as wide as he could, and caught every last drop of his absolutely historic load of cum between his lips. Now approaching the brink of orgasm myself, I vigorously licked his feet and jerked my cock as he blasted shot after shot of thick, white narcissist semen right in his own self-serving mouth. I could've sworn it lasted upwards of a minute. It was positively beautiful. Once it was all in his mouth and his dick was twitching, he proudly swallowed and began breathing very heavily. This was all I needed; seeing and hearing him finish himself off decisively caused me to shoot my second load, this time spread far and wide across his right sole; unfortunately his position made it impossible for me to get both feet at once. He glanced up at me, smiling confidently as I wiped the last of my cum off on his cute foot. I began to lean down to eagerly lick it up once again, but I was interrupted. "Uh uh," he said, and twisted his body around to come to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, careful to keep any semen from falling off of his foot. Eyeing it inquisitively for just a moment, Taylor brought his foot up to his mouth and licked clean every last drop of my cum from his smooth sole. I couldn't believe my eyes. "You're pretty fucking delicious yourself," he said. We smiled at each other. I held in a laugh. He really was beautiful. "C'mere," he said, laying down lightly, resting his sweat-drenched head on the pillow. He seemed so casual and modest, yet the fact that he was inviting me to lay down on my own bed showed a little bit of arrogance. And every bit of that was utterly irresistible. I did as he said, settling next to him, both of us completely nude. I stared into his eyes. Leftover semen dripped onto the sheets. "What's your shoe size?" I asked him. "Seven," he responded, airily. "Sometimes seven and a half." "Thought so." He smirked as if to say, "Sure you did." For some reason I found the combination of monstrous dick and cute, smaller than average feet to be very attractive. "I've never done anything with feet before," he said. "Did you like it?" "I loved it. Didn't they smell though?" "Of course. That's half the fun." To prove my point, I grabbed one of his shoes from the floor, stuck it in my face and smelled it deeply. He laughed. I detected a respectable amount of arousal in his voice. "I didn't mean to call you bitch, by the way," he said, a moment later. "It just sort of..." "I understand. It's totally fine." I touched his hair. "You were amazing." "Really?" he asked, seeming very flattered indeed. Not the response I expected from someone calling himself a god a few minutes prior. "Yeah, really. You were great." I smiled warmly at him. He smiled warmly back. We stared at each other. It could've been hours. "I think I love you," I said. "I think I love the both of us," he said, smirking playfully. My fingers in his hair, I brought his face closer to mine. We kissed. For the first time, I appreciated having someone else's lips on my own. It was much warmer than glass.