alabama_slave (alabama_slave) wrote in gayslaves,

Gay Crackhead Confessions

I've entertained submissive fantasies since my early teens, but they probably would've stayed in their little box forever if I hadn't messed up and experimented with crack cocaine.

Baby, that let it all out. Forget for a moment the pleasure involved in such a high. What really blasted through me was this wild, uninhibited sense of LUST. And it was mostly of a decidedly gay-submissive variety. Still dunno whether that was just my closet submissiveness asserting itself, or the result of discovering that crack had also robbed me of any hope of a hard-on.

The killer of it was that I was surrounded by other men, generally bad-news amoral scoundrels. They were all black, and a passing glance at their trousers was enough to confirm that most of them enjoyed the fringe benefits of being so. Were one of these dudes to have figured out my momentary vulnerability and capitalized upon it, he might well have crippled me.

And as long as I was up there on that high, I would've enjoyed every minute of it.

One of them came close. He caught on that *something* was on my mind, and timed his questions perfectly. Caught me alone, and made sure I was high as a kite before he asked me anything. And I pretty much stuttered out everything he could want to know about it.

My mouth lost its virginity that night. My bottom was saved by two things: He couldn't keep a hard-on, and he was 'waaaaay more interested in using this development to trick me out of my remaining crack, rather than nailing me.

Since then, the fantasies have gone into overdrive. Suppose it had gone differently? Suppose I'd been nailed, or even gang-banged? And kept high throughout the event, so that I'd have had no choice but to love it?

Suppose someone had brought along a little disposable camera, and gotten some pictures of the event? I probably wouldn't have minded. Again, those inhibitions had left town. From there, it would've taken very little effort to find out where I work. And then?

And then, as long as those pictures didn't ever surface, they'd have had me for sure. I'd have had to *keep* going back and putting out for them. I'd probably be there right now.

High as a kite. Taking a huge dick down my throat, and another one up my ass at the same time.

And loving it.

I'd be a full-blown addict, too, of course. Price of admission, I suppose.
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