All I wanted was for him to tell me when to hold my breath.
I love it when he pushes my head so far down, that his dick is in my throat, and his balls on my chin. I don’t need to swallow... It all shoots down my throat on its own.
I am, however, addicted to the feeling and the stress of it all. The pressure of his head cutting off my airway; the inability to breathe makes my lungs burn; my eyes instantly water, maybe one or two tears fall, but it’s not like I’m bawling my eyes out; my head thrusts and pushes, making him feel as deep as he can be.
I’m thrusting deeper, feeling the warmth down my throat. Trying to avoid the fact that my body is convulsing from lack of air.
Then, he is done feeding my throat. I release the pressure and the slobber and cum spill out of my lips, making my mouth venture back down to clean everything. I suck him clean as his body relaxes, his breathing becomes regular, and he releases my hair.
I blink rapidly, trying to clear the water built up in my eyes.
I take breaths like it’s my first time receiving oxygen…
But he didn’t let me have my fun this time. He tossed me back, opened my legs and is eating me like dessert.
Controlled asphyxiation will someday be the actual death of me. Maybe that’s why he won’t always let me have my fun.
True Love