Self Therapy! Ch. 02

I woke up feeling the after-effects of what happened that last night... and I felt better than I had in years!

Physically, I'd woken up feeling alive, more energetic and vital than before and could I go so far as to say that I was 100% happy for the first time in such a long while?

I WAS happy!

I was content, satisfied and felt fulfilled and there seemed more reason to be as such than simply for the fact I had pleasured myself to an extent so far unrealised. I hitched a leg up as I lay in bed feeling good about myself and I felt slippery and warm with residual lubricant. I was still tender, I could tell, just by the feverish and worn in feeling around my stretched sphincter.

I ducked an arm under the covers and pleasurably ran my hand in between my buttocks and the used hole felt more like a hot, wet pussy than a tight, straight man's sphincter. I didn't want to tempt fate by filling myself in again before catching another shower, for safety's sake, but I ran my finger around the slippery entrance and it gave way loosely to my touch, tempting me in rather than flinching against me as though I was every other untrustworthy stranger!

I decided it best to get out of bed now before I might not have moved all day long. That was when I felt the pain and it may not have hurt like it could have, had I done something wrong the night before but it was enough to make me worry. Had I gone too far, too fast? Had I stretched myself out of shape in any way?

I didn't want the thought of having to go to work that night my arsehole dropping out of my trouser leg or more realistically crapping myself just by coughing suddenly. I sat there for a long while, subconsciously trying to convince myself that I indeed had heard such a story somewhere before.

It was vague but with my imagination, it was a fear real enough for me to feel anxious over.

I felt the full effect of the way I had abused myself when I sat up and put my feet on the carpet. Right in my saddle I felt as though I had been punched hard and also felt quite bruised. I felt used, even though I had done it to myself and I thought, 'this must be how a slut feels the morning after!'

Yes, I felt fucking fantastic!

I wasn't guilty of anything, I knew I didn't feel ashamed and this was a secret I wouldn't mind knowing for as long as I would continue to indulge myself in the experience. But I knew I wanted a real hard cock to work with soon. I could just imagine myself working one over, taking it in every position. Having someone balls deep inside me, plunging themselves in and out and filling me with...

What the fuck was wrong with me? I laughed as I broke off the thought but couldn't ignore the massive erection it caused me so quickly. I grabbed the dildo and then headed for the shower, feeling my butt cheeks slipping and sliding against each other with every step I took.

The hot jets of water and steam shot down in an endless stream as I stood beneath, very liberally soaping myself up and rinsing myself down. I made sure to wash my face, chest and armpits before soaping my crack and getting deep inside to thoroughly cleanse myself. I then washed the dildo under the hot water with the shower gel, begrudgingly deciding to set it down.

It took about five minutes though before I was lying wet on my bed again, fresh from the shower and driving the greased up little rubber toy deep inside me.

I couldn't help myself, I was out of control. My body trembling and my prostate so exquisitely tender from its previous abusing, I was moaning out loud, shushing from between clenched teeth and enjoying the intense pleasure/pain of an orgasm I never thought possible.

'I can't do this anymore,' I thought to myself. The pleasure was too much, like a drug overdose seconds before sudden death. My heart pounded audibly in my chest and my breathing became so shallow that I felt like I was having a heart attack. Lust was engaging me, almost paralysing me.

I got the most dirty, narcissistic thought in my head and didn't even have to dare myself. Across the room was a tall dressing mirror. I got up, bracing the dildo deep inside and with the muscles inside me, I sucked it up hard and kept it in place, getting up to move the mirror to the wall opposite the foot of my bed. I could feel it moving around inside me, or trying to, pushing up against a now very sensitive part of me.

I sat down at the edge of the bed, seeing myself naked and dripping wet and felt the dildo slide halfway out and then drive back in by itself. By its little rubber balls I held it down and began riding it and seeing this mind-blowing image of myself, fucking my imaginary lover right before me. I was incensed and now possessed by an urge that had somehow made itself second-nature to me overnight.

Driving away at the nice long rubber cock, I gyrated, swivelling my hips and bucked back and forth, trying to feel it deeper; trying to feel it stretch me completely wide open. My own cock was swollen and stiffened hard to bursting point, so then I started to fuck one cock and furiously crank at the other. Before I had come to my senses near the end, I was mindlessly crying out in pleasure between rapid shallow breaths...

I just couldn't come to orgasm having to do all that hard work myself, I had still been exhausted the moment I'd awoken. But every nerve ending in my body was on fire and I trembled like a skyscraper trying to stand above an earth shattering tremor. I collapsed onto my back, unable to go further. But god I felt so good. I swore, if I hadn't found just another vice, this was my fountain of youth; my reason for living from now on at least!

I didn't leave home all afternoon. It took me that long to recover as best as I could!

That night I went to work, after all the worrying if I'd feel or act different around my associates had passed, I reminded myself that it didn't matter. It was none of their business after all. And I didn't feel like I was hiding a secret so why would I act out of place?

I worked in an all-female environment, apart from the many male customers that passed through, and they never took a great deal of interest; always too busy nattering amongst their own in one of their mothers' meetings!

As I made my way around the store, I began to get that same sensation as the moment I got out of bed to get to the bathroom and realised I hadn't showered the second time. The reward for my poor memory, I was walking around work with an arse not only slick with lube but practically dribbling with the stuff. Fuck me, I felt wicked and the worst thing was, I was telling myself that any one man that walked in the door could have fucked me with ease right there and then. They would have easily been able to just slide it in and fuck away.

I didn't even get a hard on thinking this, though, which surprised me. I simply just got on with the night, with a new spring in my step and waited patiently for the end of the night, enjoying these new feelings as they presented themselves one after the other.

I got home just before midnight and hasted for the bedroom, flipped open the laptop and headed straight to my favourite chat site to see if Jasmine was online. To my joy, she was and had already left me a message to get back to...

'How's the new hobby?'

'Amazing,' I began, having to retype that one word about ten times before it passed for English. I was just too hyped, too excited about getting to tell her everything. 'How's yours?'

'Fantastic, Jason is just an amazing lover,' she replied. 'If he isn't "The One" then at least I get a world class fucking until I find out...'

'Yeah well screw him, I need fucking now,' I typed eagerly, 'seriously Jasmine where do I begin to look?'

'Don't you have any gay friends that would oblige you? I'm sure a hot young guy such as yourself shouldn't get a No for an answer...'

'No, do you?' I asked curiously, feeling a pressure begin to build in my lower stomach as soon as I hit the Send tab.

'Sorry darling, I can't help you there,' she replied. 'All my friends are women believe it or not.'

I was devastated, in fact I felt cheated for some reason, recalling that this seductive creature had gotten me into this new addiction. Now it felt as though she was leaving me to fend for myself. I couldn't possibly blame her. It wasn't as though she should control the circumstances by which I was now left to, however it was as simple as this; it was her that left me wanting to be fucked and it was her I wanted.

It was her that had got it into my head in the first place that I would enjoy being fucked and it was because of her that I was not getting fucked although I could take care of myself but I didn't want to. I wanted the real thing. I would have to go looking for myself!

'I'd tell you to go to a gay club or go looking online if I was none the wiser, but I wouldn't put you at risk. You know the score,' she then added and I replied without thinking.

'But if I have to get to know someone first before I get a seeing to, I'll have to wait more than a few hours or a day or a week. No good, I just can't help myself Jasmine,' I'd typed and left it there. As soon as I was offline, I then saw clearly just how disappointed I was. I'd gone from being perfectly content to absolutely pissed-off in the space of five minutes. I really was behaving like an addict and all because I wanted a fuck!

Oddly enough, it was at 2am when I was lying in bed, unsuccessfully trying to sleep, that I recalled something that happened a few years back. Back when I used to chat with the boys instead of the girls!

How could I have forgotten? I had forced the memories out of my mind through fear, self-loathing and disgust. I didn't want to travel that road as I remembered. I just wanted to see the green grass on the other side and wonder what it was like.

His name had been Mikey and he'd told me that he lived locally, about half an hour from me. We'd talked online and eventually when I could no longer deny why I was chatting to him, someone who'd advertised himself as being gay, I told him I wanted to experience not just sex with another male but wanted to get a taste for the real thing. I cringed in the dark as I recalled this. Just how fucking naive had I been and how naive had I expected him to be back then?

He was a bottom who told me he liked to seduce straight lads because he found turning boys onto boys more exciting and that they always provided the best sex. Something about straight guys getting their kicks out of doing things they knew they shouldn't have been doing.

I was hooked, I remember. It had gone from online chats to phone texts and photos; not completely nude photos but pictures suggestive of a complete identity if they were to be put together like a puzzle. We used to tease each other so much, having text sex and him usually coaxing me into telling him what I wanted to do with him if I ever met him.

In the end, I backed out and stopped replying to his messages. I guess I just didn't want to take such a big leap into a lifestyle I couldn't have afforded if I was caught out or came out. But what the fuck was I thinking now? That I should have gone for it or that I should get out of bed and go look him up again online?

The brightness of the screen stung my eyes in the pitch black and I was seeing double but with a little effort I was back onto my favourite chat room. I immediately began searching, right at the beginning discovering that I didn't remember the alias he used to use for the site. Not one to be stopped so easily, I began a profile search and started sifting through profile pictures and names, looking for Mikey and hoping to god I'd find him. I was more than horny, I was yearning for fuck's sake!

I was unsure when I stopped dead on the photo of the 24 year old that looked mostly like him, a boyishly good-looking young guy with black hair and big brown eyes. I took a look inside his profile and thought I'd hit the jackpot. I was certain in fact. His name was Mikey and he was from the same city as me, only not in the area that I remember.

'Flirts with Men,' the tag read beside his picture. Also, what I hadn't noticed until then was the little green picture of a PC in the corner of his photo that showed he was currently online. My heart started to climb a rickety ladder into my throat as my mouth went dry.

'Been a while, Mikey. Don't suppose you remember me!?' I typed and waited for five minutes just sitting there. In the dark I began to search for my cigarettes out of purely childish impatience. He wasn't going to reply and even if he did, he'd tell me I had him mistaken for someone else.

'Hi, how've you been?' came the reply. I rushed to type back, cigarette smoking away and stinging my eyes even further.

'Been thru some tough times but sorted my shit out now. Never guess what?' I posted back.

'You're officially gay now?' he asked.

'No lol,' I replied, 'not yet, but I've finally got my own place,' I told him, the excitement starting to strain at my boxers. I released myself and let it grow free, feeling it lengthening in the cool dark. 'So how did it go for you? Did you get that boyfriend?'

'I had a casual thing with a lad for a few years but that ended a few months ago,' he replied. 'So you haven't tried it yet?'

It felt wrong to tell him but I did. I felt he deserved my honesty and to know everything at least briefly for now. He had trusted me once after all and in a way I had betrayed him when I'd backed out. That was at least the sense of resolve that accompanied my feelings at the moment.

'Yes I did but I was fucked up, didn't know what I was doing and who I was doing it with. I hated it, it was a horrible experience and I wish I could forget it,' I told him.

'Oh ok, I'm sorry I asked,' he said.

'Don't be,' I returned quickly, 'if I was going to like it, it would have been with you because I at least knew you quite a bit but I was scared I guess!'

With that I waited... and waited... and waited! Mikey had gone offline; without finishing our conversation and without even saying why or saying goodnight!

Uneasily and quite disappointed, more so in myself for seeming to ruin everything for myself all the time, I returned to bed and slept shallowly after hours of failing to make myself comfortable!

The next morning, I awoke feeling terrible -- a huge contrast to the way the day before had started -- and this time didn't want to get out of bed because I didn't want to face the world. The fun seemed to have worn off. The guilt, it turned out, had just come late in the mail and arrived in one massive bulk. Indifferently and like a hangover was weighing on my mind, I got up and hobbled over to the laptop and started siphoning through useless junk mail and bills.

Curiosity however began to creep up over my shoulder as I kept clicking on the Delete tab. I thought there should be no reason why I couldn't look and after inhaling a deep lungful of air, I returned to my chat site just to see if I'd missed anything...

'So when you said you weren't gay YET... does that mean you're available?' Mikey had sent, fifteen minutes after I'd signed out.

'Only if you are,' I replied and added my phone number.

(to be continued)