Dear Diary: Introductions

Story by Zwoosh on SoFurry

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#1 of Dear Diary

CJ is a stallion with one hell of a story to tell, going back from his days as a porn star to the modern day where he works as a stripper with freelance work on the side for Kaiser Studios. Under order from his therapist, he now keeps a diary for which he's going to let you read and enjoy.


Dear Diary? How fucking lame. I'm only keeping you because my therapist said it might help to clear my head some if I got my thoughts down on paper, so I'm thinking this now so I can write it down later. Yeah... that should work. But damn, fuck medically mandated work. I wanted a solution to my problems not fucking homework. I dropped out of college so I wouldn't have to deal with this shit.

Anyway... First thing you should know, I'm one of those 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' sorta guys. I don't do dates, and romances ain't my scene. I just like to fuck and get my boys off, I don't need a bitch hanging on my arm asking me about my feelings or if I love them or what we should do together. To me, it's just some jumped up friendship with sex actually meaning something. That's why if I got a friend I like then they're a friend with all the tasty benefits, not some labelled item as 'girlfriend' or 'boyfriend'. I see couples every day and I still don't see the bloody point of them. Nah... what I like is someone who knows what they're doing to service me until I unload my rocks and then they can do whatever fucking else for the rest of the night.

A bit like this juicy piece of meat that was on his knees right now licking my cock like it was the last lollipop on Divinia. He had spirit this one did, a tasty little otter number I picked up from the bar about five minutes ago. He was easy; all I had to do was strut up to him in my leather chaps, no shirt and all muscles bulging - not to mention the one eyed trouser snake downstairs - and he folded like a cheap soup. He had such a beautiful mouth. Fucking perfect the way it tried to fit my manhood into his muzzle, it was like watching a hamster stuff food into its mouth.

I suppose I should probably introduce myself. I'm Clark Junior, but most call me CJ, and I'm a thorough bred champion, or so I'm told; a chestnut coloured Shire. I'm a college dropout and work in numerous areas for a local club, doing freelance work here or there too whenever it suits me. I'm not bright, let me tell ya. I got about as much intelligence as a rock does with a diploma. I dropped out 'cause I knew it wasn't for me. All the work and the pressure were pointless when I knew I was gonna fail at the end of the year. So I saved myself some dosh and left, sought my own apartment and job so my parents wouldn't be entirely pissed, and got on with a slightly better than average life. The hours are shit, the pay is shit and the only thing keeping me from grabbing a bottle is that I get added little perks. I'm not proud of what I've done with my life, but I ain't regretting it either. I may have done some fucked up stuff but I fucking enjoyed doing it. Don't even get me started on some of my golden days...

This otter boy was starting to make an impression on me. He'd managed to do what few can and stir the slumbering giant from his coma. I could feel the blood pumping into my organ and with a groan and flexed my groin, finally letting him have the mammoth of a dick. It's a neat trick that I can pretty much control when I get hard on cue, funny as fuck when someone's doing their absolute hardest to get me turned on and yet I'm as floppy as a wet lettuce no matter what. Gets me out of one or two poor decisions too when I'm horny down at the bar or club or wherever the hell I pick up my lays and then suddenly I lose the mood at the room. I either just pretend I'm too drunk to have sex or just get on with it for their sakes if I feel like they deserve it.

Otter-kid squeaked in delight and began worshipping my length. It was cute to watch, and sexy as fuck to see those tiny paws stroked and rubbed, making me look and feel even bigger than I actually was. At a respectable sixteen inches and a generous girth of around seven inches, I was quite the big boy in the downstairs department. I doubted I was gonna fit in all of him tonight if this was one of his first huge cocks, so I'd have to take it easy. It's rare you come across a pro who can take it deep with expert precision. I copped a feel of his ass before and it felt way too tight for the slutty act that he was putting on. He was practically begging for it down at the bar; perhaps a drink or two had made him braver than he actually was.

I grunted as the kid plunged the head down his throat again, teeth scraping a little along the sides. _Definitely_one of his firsts... We'd have to see. I had decided to take the chance and see if he really did know what he was doing or if it was hit and miss.

Like I said before, I don't do dates, I don't do romance; well, I don't do gentle either. If you want to fuck then we're gonna fuck on my terms, when I say so, how I say so. It's my dick at the end of the day, so I'll be the one in control. I grasped him by his arm and push him onto the bed, and instantly he crawled into the doggy position with that voluptuous ass wiggling from side to side like an amateur. I'd seen them before when I'd done a few films for a friend; they'd bring in the stars who'd signed up and you could see the ones who'd done it before and those who were trying to get the hang of it. Those with experience knew what best suited them, what flattered them most, and how to make themselves look most appealing. Then there were those who just copied what they saw in the plethora of porn online and try to pull it off with little results. Otter-boy was the latter; I had to physically grab his butt and stroked my flat head over his cheeks and push it between his crack just to get him to stop fidgeting. I never like doing that really. I much prefer it if they leant back onto my tool as I simply sat back and watched them fuck themselves. It was hot, knowing that you had total control over lusty guys and girls like that when all you had to do was sport wood, smirk and sit there doing nothing at all except maybe the odd voiced command.

I lunged forward, taking no care as I tore the otter a new one, slamming about a third of my rod into him. He screamed out, but I took his mouth with my hand, forcing my fingers between his succulent lips. At first he thrashed about, and for his sake I held still, not wanting to rip his colon in two as he grew accustomed to the invasion. He had tried biting down on my hand, but I kept it held there until he calmed and was soon suckling on four fingers like a good little slut.

I picked up speed, starting up a slow rhythm at first, sliding those first eight inches in and out. I thought then that that was all he could take, and that tonight was gonna be very disappointing, but then he started to drive back onto me. Slowly, I realised that with each thrust forward that I did, he pushed back a quarter of an inch, maybe even a third, more. It didn't take long until he was up to nine inches, then ten, then even eleven. The guy's arse was bloody huge! I let him take it at his own pace as for an amateur I had to give him some respect for taking a log so well. His swollen pink rim was like a pair of velvet lips that engulfed my cock until my medial ring slipped past and into his warm hole. Oh it was fucking glorious, and it was so tight still too. Each outward pull I could feel his gut sucking on my whole length, and then it was just as resistant pushing back in. I even started to enjoy myself, taking back charge as I rammed his ass with wild abandon.

All the while he was moaning and panting and whimpering, squealing out my name he'd somehow picked up despite us never really talking much. He wheezed and shuddered with the signs of orgasm, and carried on pounding as I looked beneath him to see his dwarf-sized junk form a gooey puddle on the bed. I kept on going, milking a second shattering orgasm from him as he came again, his arms giving out and his chest collapsing into the bed. His crotch mashed into the sticky jizz, but I didn't care. I was nearly done. With a few final thrusts and probably the loudest whinny you've ever heard, I threw back my head and shook my mane as I shot right up his arse. Load after thick load bloated his gut until it spurted out around my thighs and balls, coating them in gloop. I stayed in him for a while, as I had a thing for that feeling when I'd just creamed someone and my cum swam around my dick, a gutful of spunk just sloshing about, full to the brim. Then, came my second favourite part...

Not caring too much, I swiftly pulled out and then sealed my lips around his swollen gaped hole, drinking down the gallons of cum that poured from his ass. I'm no stranger to drinking down my own spooge - in fact, I revelled in it. I just loved the taste, the sensation of it oozing down my throat, pooling in my stomach. The otter just whined as he let me violate his ass one more time, letting me rim and eat out his hole good, getting every last drop that I could before I shoved him aside. I gave him a curt thanks and then told him to get his things and get out. I barely remember him leaving quickly with a staggered but grateful thank-you-for-the-mind-blowing-sex as I stroked over my belly, my dripping length hanging limp against my leg. I drifted off to sleep as I basked in the warm cum and afterglow of meaningless sex...

Of course... I can get a _whole_lot wilder...

But unfortunately Mr Diary, more of that another time.