Katrina had tried it all. Before her marriage, she'd visited a hypnotherapist, who assured her that her oral fixation and need to suck cocks was curable within an hour session. At the conclusion of the hour, she'd found herself on her knees with the man's rigid cock pouring semen down her throat.
This same event repeated itself with the successive four hypnotherapists she tried, leading her to conclude that they were either very bad at their job, or that they just had no intention of removing a willing blowjob slut from the general population.
Katrina purchased self-help courses, those that claimed that overcoming any addiction was just a matter of brain training. After two weeks of listening to the course and watching the videos, she was still sucking cock at least eight times a week. The further nine courses she purchased and three seminars she'd attended only led to yet more hard cock in her mouth.
For three months, she'd made weekly appointments with a behavioral psychologist, discussing in depth her overwhelming need to have a throbbing log of cockmeat in her mouth and throat. The only thing that she'd gotten from those three months was a second oral fixation for licking her therapist's aroused pussy. Katrina had no lesbian tendencies and couldn't understand how burying her face in the woman's crotch and tongue fucking her to an orgasm turned her on so much, but the upside was that she no longer had to pay for her appointments with money.
Her husband, Will, had always known of his wife's addiction to having her airway plugged by cock. From their first date and all the way through to their marriage, Will had been the enthusiastic recipient of Katrina's innate need to suck and swallow. The daily, sometimes twice or thrice daily, sloppy, cock worshipping blowjobs of his bride to be practically ensured that Will never had a hardon for anyone else.
In fact, masturbation or even the thought of it became a distant memory as, over the months they dated, Will could pull his cock out at any time, in any location, and push it into Katrina's mouth. There was no argument, never a protest. Katrina simply went at his cock with gusto, sucking and slurping, until she'd been fed.
Naturally, one might assume that for any man, this sort of arrangement, this willingness and devotion to oral pleasure from his wife would be akin to something heavenly. However, Katrina's manic need to suck cock did create problems. The first of these was that Will wanted to fuck his wife. Katrina, though, found it difficult to orgasm or really get much pleasure from traditional intercourse.
Without a hefty dick plowing her suckhole and a hand on her head, Katrina just couldn't cum. This, inevitably, ended with Will feeling as though he was a selfish lover when he'd fuck Katrina's pussy, as he could tell that she really wasn't into it. Katrina, to her credit, assured him that this was not the case, eagerly sucking on his spent cock until it was hard again, and then masturbating herself to an orgasm while she sucked him.
The second problem was that Will, as time went on, found it more difficult to get his dick hard for sex. It wasn't that he didn't want the sex. It was more to do with the fact that his wife was constantly draining his cock with her mouth, usually two to three times in a day. Each morning, he'd awaken to Katrina suckling lovingly on his cock. He had no complaints about this, as it was an excellent way to be awakened. He'd grasp her hair firmly in his hand and use his wife's mouth to masturbate his cock, ensuring that both of them orgasmed delightfully to start their day.
Upon arriving home, Katrina would immediately begin throating his penis with vigor, unable to control herself. She'd stare up at him wildly as she sucked and sucked, cradling his balls as Will placed his hand firmly on her head and pasted her tongue with cum. If he was too tired or unable to perform, Katrina would assure him it was okay, but he could feel the disappointment in her and she'd be quite bitchy the entire evening, like a junkie in need of her fix. His wife would, then, need to be fed once more before bedtime.
Over the months of their marriage, Katrina had tried everything from therapy to self-help courses. She'd purchased fake cocks to suck on, lifelike toys that dispensed artificial cum, even a dildo gag that she could wear to keep her mouth filled. Gum. Lozenges. Nothing had the slightest effect on Katrina's lust for sucking hard, jerking, hot, veiny cocks until they plastered her mouth and throat.
Such was Katrina's addiction to man flesh using her lips, mouth and tongue for pleasure, that Katrina now found herself contemplating the unthinkable. Will was out of town for a work conference for an entire week. The first day of his absence, Katrina had been able to endure it by using the fake cock. She'd suction cupped the toy to the shower wall and throated it wildly in the morning, until it dispensed its gooey ejaculate.
It had been alright, but it hadn't been satisfying. The fake cock couldn't grab her hair and shove itself into her mouth. It couldn't call her a cocksucker or a cumslut. By the end of the first day, she'd used it four times and even done so with a vibrating toy in her cunt to see if that would help.
On the second day, she got more creative. Katrina downloaded an audio track of a man with a deep baritone voice, like Will's, and played it in her headphones as she blindfolded herself and went to work on the fake cock. The added stimulation, the voice in her ears telling her she was good, that she was a cumslut, a cocksucker, was a nice touch. But it wasn't a real dick, and it wasn't real cum. It wasn't a real man, and it couldn't manhandle her head into forceful submission.
By the third day, Katrina was anxious and snappy. She was performing poorly at work and had taken more than a few breaks to masturbate to rough blowjob porn in the toilets. This, though, only made her angrier that she had no one to fuck her face and feed her sperm. She couldn't even orgasm from the porn, which left her even more horny, frustrated, and upset.
When Will called that night, she'd snapped and yelled at him over the length of the grass on the lawn, and then for not fixing a broken drawer handle in the kitchen. After her tirade, she apologized, aware that she'd been a cunt for no good reason.
"I just really miss you," she said, "and I need to suck cock so bad."
"Just three more days, babe," Will soothed her, "Three more days and you can suck it all you want, alright? I really miss your sexy mouth, too."
The fourth day was unbearable. Katrina left work early, feigning illness, desperate for a dick to pump her suckhole. She wasn't thinking clearly. She booked an emergency appointment with her therapist, who cleared her calendar for Katrina to come in.
Upon arriving in the office, sweaty and flushed, the therapist locked the door and removed her panties from under her skirt. She gently eased Katrina to her knees in front of her, then sat back in her overlarge chair and pushed the married woman's face into her warm cunt.
"This is ruining your life, Katrina," the woman said, gripping Katrina's hair in her fist and grinding her fuckbox on her tongue, "Maybe it's time that you talked to Will about more desperate measures."
"Mph hnd m mshs?" Katrina asked.
"You're familiar with open marriages? Kink play?"
"Yth," Katrina mumbled into her cunt.
"Have you ever talked with Will about bringing another man into the bedroom?"
"Obviously, you'd have to talk about boundaries. This can't go on, though. In order for your relationship to work, you're going to have to have some kind of agreement. Every relationship is a give and take. Will wants to fuck your pussy. He loves you and he wants you to… yes, right there… fuck… he wants you to… mmm… to enjoy it."
"Hmm," Katrina agreed.
"You just don't enjoy sex without a cock fucking your mouth, which means you need more than one cock. It's not a perfect solution… Oh, God… Fuck!"
Pressing Katrina's talented mouth hard into her cunt, the therapist moaned and orgasmed on her patient's face. A moment passed while she recovered, stroking Katrina's hair. Katrina remained on her knees submissively. The doctor pulled roughly on her hair again, forcing Katrina to attend her once more.
She continued, "It's not a perfect solution, but if you don't take some action, you're going to end up cheating on your husband. You'll wind up kneeling on the floor of a bathroom stall with some homeless vagrant pushing his pulsing dick into your throat."
Katrina moaned into the doctor's cunt at the mental image.
"You'll find yourself in a gloryhole with some stranger's fat, erect penis pumping between your lips," the doctor said, and Katrina moaned again.
"You're probably even going to go so far as to get drunk at a bar and let some muscled stud with a nine-inch cock grab your hair and fuck your slutty mouth in a back alley. He'll, most likely, call his friends out to join him. Before you know it, you'll be servicing half the bar and letting them all jerk themselves off with your throat muscles. How are you ever going to look Will in the eye after drinking that much cum at one time?"
Katrina, worked up and on edge from four days of being denied cock, orgasmed purely from the imagined scenario and the shame of being made to lick out her therapist's cunt for her.
"You see?" said the doctor, "You can't trust yourself not to suck cock."
The therapist trailed off for a long moment as she groped her tits, continued to hold Katrina's hair, and pleasure her cunt with her patient's face, until she orgasmed once more. Katrina, confused and horny, let the therapist kiss her hotly, allowing the woman to push her tongue into her mouth and taste her own pussy nectar. Katrina felt dirty and used, which she liked, but at the same time it wasn't what she needed. The therapist didn't have a cock.
On the way home, disheveled and flushed, Katrina passed by a white building with blacked out windows. The sign, in girly, flowing letters, read Passion Palace and advertised adult toys and novelties. It did not look like a palace. Katrina drove on, but then the doctor's words came back to her. She stopped the car, turned it around, and drove back. In the parking lot she sat in the car and looked at the sign, at the building.
She opened the door of the car, then shut it again and waited, looking at the building. Men came out of the door and went in the door. For nearly an hour, Katrina just looked at the building, watching people come and go. Men, couples, women. She imagined what might be inside. Was there a booth in the back, where those men would stick their cocks through a hole?
Katrina put her hand under her skirt. Her panties were soaked through, just from sitting here and thinking about it. She opened the door again, glanced about, then quickly made her way inside. The shop, she saw, was quite busy.
Katrina milled about, only half-looking at the toys and lingerie near the front, eventually making her way toward the back. There was a hallway in the rear of the place, where a line of booths stood. One of the doors was closed. The door next to it was open. Waiting, at the open door, was a line of men. All of them looked eager but embarrassed as they glanced at the closed door.
From the open door, Katrina could hear the sound of a man groaning and then a grunt that she knew to be an orgasm. A moment later, the man stepped out of the open door, zipping his pants, and the next man walked inside. It was a gloryhole.
The man with the empty balls gave Katrina a lusty glance as he passed by, which drew the looks of the men still in line. The last man in the line turned to Katrina, who stood, flushed, fidgeting.
"You here to suck cock?" the man asked, bluntly.
"I…" Katrina stammered, "I don't… don't know…"
"If you are," the man said, "I'm definitely waiting for you. The slut in there right now isn't half as cute."
Katrina blushed more deeply. Cute. She was a cute slut. A cute, cocksucking slut. Her pussy was very pleased by the comment. For another twenty minutes, Katrina watched the line of men dwindle to only a few.
Then, the door opened. An older woman with a lined face and large, sagging breasts, stumbled out of the booth looking cockdrunk. Katrina knew that look well. She'd seen it in the mirror many times. The woman gave her an approving once over as she walked by and said, "All yours, honey."
The remaining line of men looked at Katrina expectantly. They wanted her to go in the booth and suck their cocks. Katrina, herself, wanted to suck their cocks. She took a step back.
"You need some help?" the man at the end of the line asked, chuckling.
"I… I shouldn't," Katrina said.
The man glanced down at the wedding ring on her finger and said, "Need a little more than hubby can give you?"
He punctuated the question by exposing his cock, which was long and thick. The other men chuckled at the look of desire on Katrina's face, the flush in her cheeks, the adorable way she bit her lip as she looked at the stranger's big tool.
"Go on in, baby," the man said, "It's just a little slutty head, right?"
Katrina trembled. Slutty head. She looked at the naked cock again, so close that she could grab it, close enough to get down on her knees and let him push it into her mouth. Instead, Katrina managed to turn around and run from the shop, tears streaming down her face and the men calling mockingly behind her.
In the car, she called will, her hands trembling. The phone rang and then he answered.
"Hey, babe? What's up?" he asked.
"Will? Oh, Will! I'm… I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't help it! I don't know what to do!"
"Hey. Slow down. What's wrong?"
"I'm… I'm sitting outside a porn shop," she said, "and there's a booth that people put their cocks through to get sucked!"
Will was silent a moment and then said, "Katrina, why are you at a gloryhole?"
"It's… Will it's so bad! I can't take it!"
She heard him sigh into the phone and then, "You really need to suck cock, don't you?"
"Honey," Will said, "I love you and if you need to suck strange cock until I get home, that's okay."
Katrina, stunned, was not sure she'd heard right.
"What?" she asked.
"Look, I've been thinking about this for a long time. I know how much you've tried to beat this thing and I know how hard it is. Here's the deal. We'll talk when I get home. Until then, if you really need this, really need to suck cock, then go for it. You know how sexy I think you look with that little mouth of yours full of cock. Why don't you just record the video and send it to me, so you can show me what a good cocksucker you are?"
"Are… are you being serious right now? I love you and I'm not going to do something you'll be mad at me for. It's just… Will, it's so hard," Katrina said.
"I'm serious. I don't want you to be some kind of gloryhole suckslut on a regular basis, but this is a temporary fix. We'll talk more about it when I'm home, come up with a better plan. Go suck some cock, babe."
Katrina knew, then, that she'd married the right man.
"Thank you," she said, crying again, tears of relief this time, "Thank you, so much, baby!"
"Remember. Send me the video, you little cumslut."
Katrina agreed and nearly stumbled out of the car in her haste to get back inside. With no cockslut waiting to service them, the line of men had dispersed, and they were now milling about the shop for something else to take care of their full balls and hard cocks. Katrina's return, though, quickly assembled them again. She beat a determined path to the booth, not even bothering to shut the door. In the booth, there was a cushion to kneel on and a bench to sit on. Katrina took to the cushion. She propped her phone on the bench and began to record.
The first man in the line made his way into the booth next door, but Katrina said, "Not in there. In here."
The man walked around to her side and asked, "Seriously?"
"Please. Feed me," Katrina said, salivating.
The man wasted no time, pushing his cock into her mouth and slowly fucking it. Katrina encouraged him by taking his hand and putting it on the back of her head. The man took the hint and was soon making use of her suckhole in the way that Katrina loved. The sloppy sucking of her talented mouth had the stranger blasting a load of cum into Katrina's mouth within minutes, making the married blowjob slut cream her panties in a body-jolting orgasm as she moaned loudly around his cock.
Finally rewarded and the edge off, something in Katrina's brain clicked and the week's tension began to fade. She was a junkie, she knew, a cum junkie, a cock junkie. The next man in line stepped in and, wordlessly, grabbed her hair and fucked her face unkindly.
"That's it, slut," he growled, "There's what you need. Take the dick. Take it all."
Katrina could only groan with pleasure as he pumped his shaft between her lips, battering the tight seal of her cockhole with no regard for her comfort. It was exactly what she needed. Her second man held her head to his crotch and ejaculated straight down her throat, forcing her to massage his cockhead with it and extract every drop she could, before finally releasing her.
Katrina gasped in air, tears on her cheeks, and then the man was gone. The third was quick to replace him, spinning her around on the cushion and pressing the back of her head against the wall so that he could hump her face. Katrina's head banged against the wooden wall of the booth as the man put his hands on either side of her head and held it. He gagged her over and over, spittle and sperm drooling from the corners of her mouth as she glurked and gulped.
A third load in her belly and slime running down her chin to soak her top, Katrina endured the fourth man's facial stuffing with the dedication of a true cockslut. She grabbed the man's ass and encouraged him to be rougher, more dominant, to use her mouth like a cumhole as she orgasmed again. When he squeezed her tits roughly and pressed her head against the wall with his crotch, forcing the length of his shaft down her throat and delivering his pent-up load, Katrina orgasmed harder than she had in months. She came, violently, her body shaking, the pleasure in her cunt nearly painful as she bucked and squealed.
The fourth man was the last in line and as Katrina wobbled to her feet, her face and top utterly ruined from the spit and cum, she staggered out of the booth to appreciative slaps on the back from the pleased men. Her fix obtained, she stumbled, drunkenly, to the car. Giggling with delight and relief, she pulled up the video and masturbated to it in the parking lot, before sending it to Will.
"Good girl," came the response a moment later, and Katrina felt her pussy gush happily.
Yes, she had certainly married the right man.
Enjoy short content like this? Check out the story index for more Shorts!
You can also pick up the first volume of Slutty Shorts, a collection of ten short stories comprising 48,000 words of erotic content.
Want your shorts with a dark twist of incestuous exploitation? Pick up the ten-story collection Horrible Households: Taboo Tales of Incestuous Exploitation.
Like to follow me on social media?
Lush Stories: Hamlin