Nobody has seen this bedroom but me. It's my sanctuary. Even stood naked in the doorway with the lights off, its mere smell calmed my racing pulse. Above the faint stuffiness of being sealed, earthy low notes swam across my nostrils, a rawness to them mixed with edgier tones. Lust. Desire. Unbridled masculinity.

In the rectangle of light from behind me that cast my shadow into the gloom, I shivered, but not through cold. It rippled through my body, all the way from toe ring to scalp where my mane of blonde hair cascaded to brush the full-colour dragon tattoo at the base of my spine.

The wall lights sprang to life as my fingertip found the switch. 2900K bulbs. Chosen specifically to bathe the minimalist spare room in a soft yellowish glow that mirrored the long tail of my orgasm as it continued to warm me. His scent still pervaded my body. Clung to me like an invisible second skin, inside and out.

Leaving the key in the lock, I padded across the plush cream carpet to the queen size bed along the far edge, the condom swinging from my fingertips under the weight of its contents alongside a toned thigh. His delicious salty essence, captured. All mine. To do with as I please. Right here. Right now.

A curious mix of exhaustion and sexual energy swamped me after the two-hour cycle of build-up, torment and release, over and over, each level more intense and thrilling than the last. Our bodies had been slick with sweat, gliding together, nails clutching and digging, desperate kisses and bites across tender flesh. Exploring. Experimenting. Pushing boundaries, just the way I like it.

I licked my full lips, finding no remaining trace of Chanel Incandescente; all transferred to his tender neck, firm chest, firmer cock, and more.

A smile formed at the fresh memories as I slithered onto the bed and crawled to its centre. My glazed pussy lips rubbed together. Felt… exquisitely used. Tingly. Unsurprising, really. Even by my standards, I'd been wild. Virtually insatiable. It took him by surprise at first, but he soon caught on. Matched my licentiousness, as I suspected he would.

That's primarily why I'd chosen him at the club. Saw his potential beyond the chiselled looks and impudent charm he exuded. Singled him out through the crowd among the lasers and dry ice and crushing wall of drum 'n' bass. Danced with him, gyrated against him, snared him. I doubt he'd ever be the same again, but it's the price paid for selection. And I was very clear up-front, leaning into his ear as we flirted by the bar and rasping, "Be warned: I will ruin you." He followed willingly.

Of the three orgasms I'd coaxed from his supercharged body, the contents of the condom represented his first. Voluminous and equally as impressive as the second and third that swam inside me, dancing on my taste buds and leaking from my heart-shaped peach that deformed the sheets as I sat cross-legged and basked in the room's lush warmth.

Draping the condom across my knee so it dangled, careful not to spill any, I laid the Polaroid ahead of me. His face was slightly off-centre in the frame, the cheeky grin smeared with my glistening juices. The inner surface of my porcelain thighs dusted the edges of the image, freshly shaved pussy just out of shot at its base. He'd known what to do with his tongue, that much was apparent.

Touching the photograph, I traced one cheek. His gorgeous brown eyes stared back at me below his matching short crop of hair as I brought my fingertips to my body. Skating up to cradle my quivering breasts then sliding downwards, I followed the sweeping contours of my sylphlike figure.

Goosebumps formed and my senses lit up once more as I brushed one hand over the bare mound at my core. My lips had not yet retracted, plump and inviting beneath my touch. But that wasn't my target just yet. I pressed on, down, shuddering as my fingers reached the slippery dark knot alongside the bed sheets, and circled.

Massaging the ring of muscle and relaxing, a little of his gorgeous thick manliness dribbled onto the pad. I brought it to my face. Inhaled. A strong reminder, even though he'd only left the house six minutes prior. His musky scent tinged with mine crackled through my body, head swimming, synapses firing, memories forming.

My mind flashed to erotic frames and ingrained fragments of our filthy union. Prone on my stomach, bucking up against his body that smothered and bore into mine, his hands cupping my tits, fingertips pinching erect nipples that scuffed the duvet and sent sparks zipping through me. Then his fist wrapping my hair into a crude ponytail, yanking upward, twisting my head so his lips could find mine. Tongues colliding. Breathless gasps, desperate and hot. His physique weighing me down, that beautiful hard cock plundering my tightest place. Owning me as I moaned into his mouth.

Echoes of his invasion still reverberated throughout my crackling insides. The way he'd snarled in my ear how tight I was. How hot I was. How he was going to fill my "slutty little arse". I loved his strength. His stamina. Especially when he reared up and spanked my cheeks alternately as I begged him to ruin me.

The blush from my reddening behind had spread, superheating my entire body. Made me plead for more until he growled he was going to come, his rhythm broke down and he shook as he erupted in my bum, pumping and pulsing and spurting his third, thick load deep within. My God, the groans he made turned me on immeasurably and I brimmed over moments later, winking and gripping his expansive shaft, my shrieks absorbed by the pillow. Such a thrill.

Regarding the translucent pearl of elixir on my fingertip, I dabbed it to my tongue and breathed in sharply, pussy twitching. Fuck. His earthiness was ironically reminiscent of sixty-nine. Metallic almost. Definitely not vegetarian. That much iron might have also explained how he was hard again so quickly in my hot mouth after filling the condom.

I let a smile form. It could have been partly my technique of course. The way my tongue piercing fluttered against his swelling glans, unimpeded through lack of foreskin. My lips and breath had danced over the slit from where I teased delicious droplets of sweet pre-come. From where I craved a second shot of his piquant fluid.

It could equally have been the eye contact. Him kneeling on the foot of the bed, me on mine alongside it facing his gorgeous prick, looking up, like all good girls should. Two sets of locked irises met, hazel and coffee; their combination could have formed a scrumptious truffle in a box of expensive chocolates. I encased the head of his shaft with my lips and slithered down. Down. Inching more of his impressive length, gaze never wavering, hearing his breath catching when he realised I wasn't going to stop until I engulfed every millimetre.

The gagging sounds that vibrated as he nudged my throat seemed to only make him harder. I took him all, eventually having to break eye contact as his length tested my natural reflexes. Thick saliva strings sprayed and drooled around his shaved balls, dripping to the floor.

His hands found my skull, pulled me in and held me as he swelled in my throat. I broke free, yanked back, coughing. But far from indignation, the sparkle in my eyes told him I wanted him to do it again. And again. And again. Letting him fuck my face until his breathing was almost a growling gurgle, my mascara streaming as I spluttered and drew back, jacking his spit-soaked cock towards completion.

My hand seemed tiny around him as I opened my mouth and urged him to stripe my tongue with his thick, white seed. I teased him with every technique I knew. Fluttering tongue on the underside of the flared end. Nibbling the very tip between soft lips. Gently squeezing the head and slithering the point of my tongue into the tiny opening. Massaging his balls.

It was so sexy seeing his expression harden as a prelude to his orgasm. Witnessing his breathing deepen, sucked through gritted teeth and punctuated by expletives. As his crinkled orbs tightened in my palm, he roared and painted me with what I craved, letting me direct the searing ribbons across my tongue and lips and cheek. Then watched me clean up everything, swallowing it down, savouring the bittersweet emulsion that I scooped onto my tongue and let trickle down my throat, igniting the hunger in me.

Fuck, he'd been exactly what I needed. So dominating when it mattered, yet willing to let me take charge of his pleasure when he sensed I needed it. So different.

Staring at his photograph, I touched myself. Dipped a finger between my sticky lips, pressing inside until it returned glimmering in the soft white glow of the wall lights. I slithered it to my clit and gasped as I circled the proud jewel that begged to be teased. Kept it up until the creamy fluid that seeped from my entrance drizzled into the crack of my behind and to the crisp sheets beneath.

I needed more.

As I grazed a fingernail across the jumping nub, my body spasmed internally. I pressed and drove the pads of two fingers either side of the energised bundle of nerve endings, capturing it in the inverted 'V' between my knuckles and squeezing.

I groaned, recalling the feel of his cock propelling inside my soaked channel, as I lay open on the bed. With a measured beat, he had pulled fully out until I was just closing in his wake before driving back to the hilt, splitting me time and again. Looking up at him, my hands squeezed my tits and yanked the crinkled nipples skyward between thumb and forefinger, heart hammering in my chest alongside lungs that propelled gasps into the atmosphere.

There was something about the way he manhandled me that drove me wild. His hands around my ankles, raising my calves, kisses raining on each instep as he lifted my legs to hook his shoulders, held my thighs to his stomach and pounded inside me. The change of angle was exquisite. His tongue slathering my toes and sucking them into his mouth magnified the excitement, especially when he rolled his lips around my toe ring, teeth clinking on the metal.

My damp hair was splayed beneath my body creating a flaxen halo that would have made me appear angelic, had the cusses tumbling from my mouth not shattered the illusion. With head writhing on the pillow, I gripped its edges, bunched and curled them up either side of my head as his unrelenting force pummelled my orgasm into existence.

I felt it well from the very centre of my core, the muscles around my clit tightening and relaxing, heat rippling and radiating to the farthest reaches of my body. Everything tingled until nothingness numbed it. Until I barely knew where the hell I was. But even though the pillow covered my ears, I still heard my scream.

I came around him, selfishly clutching at his sheathed organ as my senses tumbled, knotted, and unknotted. The sight of me an utter slave to his cock, exposing my rawest side, proved too much for him too. When my eyes snapped open, I could see it brimming behind his. Heard the way his breathing tightened. Felt when he lost control inside my quivering frame, jetting spurts of beautiful, pearlescent come to pool, imprisoned in the tip of the prophylactic, his eyes screwing shut in a mouth-watering display of need.

He'd been beyond good. Exceptional, in fact. And I'd caught him. A few spoons of his milky effusion confined to the rubbery walls that I stroked as it dangled from my leg. Mine to play with. A memento that excited me, a hollowness forming in my chest as I pinched the teat and felt the silky texture separate and recombine within.

I needed to come again, to supplement the tail end of the latest orgasm he'd given me. Extend it by tormenting my already taut nerves.

My fingers walked from the condom along a trim inner thigh, pleasure mounting with each step until I exhaled as my fingers tiptoed once more onto my mons and crept downward. My lips were soaked, a thin glassy film of cream sticking to my fingertips as I drew breath and slipped inside my pussy, accelerating with need, plunging, seeking the area that would trigger the most intense climax I knew.

I found it and gasped just like I had done when he went down on me. He absolutely devoured me straight after filling the condom, while I was still coming. Sank between my spread thighs and lapped up the sweet nectar that drizzled from my distended lips. Probed his tongue between my folds, his nose against my jumping clit, inhaling me like I was a grade A narcotic.

When he slithered up a fraction, I jolted. Almost felt electrocuted. Our eyes met over the tiny hump of my belly, his mouth fastened to my clit, sucking and nibbling as the waves that ebbed inside me grew once more to a crescendo, spilling over amid cries of ecstasy as I threw my head back and splashed him with wanton lust.

Long moments later while my world was still spinning I'd grabbed the camera, framed the shot between my legs as best I could and told him to smile, freezing the moment at which I was now staring. I brought my other hand from massaging my breast and nipple to slip between my arse cheeks. Scooping the wetness that had oozed south, I smothered my nether hole with it and drove a finger to the first knuckle, moaning into the spare room.

Fuck, I nearly came but somehow held off. Edging, one finger in my bum, two of the other hand buried in my slit, pausing their previous come-hither motion. My skin flushed. Burned. Alive with dirty, pent-up thoughts of slippery, hot salty cum covering me. Rubbing it in. Drinking it. Being taken. Used.

I held myself there on the precipice, body shaking, awash with natural chemical flotsam. I prolonged the beautiful agony as long as I could, fighting my mind as a flicker book of imagery depicted me drinking boiling cum from pricks large and larger, that split my lips and temporarily took away my air in the most beautifully dirty manner imaginable. Letting the unctuous fluid slide down my throat, infecting me, almost becoming my lifeblood.

Close.

So very, very close.

Every cock that had treated me to the most overwhelming highs flashed through my head. I let my mind become every breath, every touch, every desperate, sweaty, depraved fuck I'd ever known. The bites. The skin scraping beneath my sanguine nail polish. The pinching, squeezing, delightful torture of teeth on my engorged nipples. Of begging for rock hard cock in every orifice. Of being adrift in the moments that defined me.

Crushing my palm to my aching clit, my trembling body reanimated as my fingers resumed their dance against the adjacent walls of my insides. I felt the pressure building, the mountaintop that was always just over the next ridge suddenly in full view as I froze and my control disintegrated amid a piercing scream.

A single stream of clear liquid squirted from me, narrowly missing his photo, and I shook as it abated as quickly as it had fired, latent wetness dribbling around my fingers to puddle on the soaked sheets. Fuck, the sensation was incredible. My spine tingled beneath my swishing hair, the dragon unfurling, coming alive and breathing fire through my entire pulsating frame.

I was wracked with joy, soaring. The ultimate self-inflicted base-jump as I tumbled to Earth a tangle of pulsing neurons. The room spun and I had to close my eyes, letting the heavenly release charge through me, filtering into every corner of my being.

The mind-blowing fizz flowed through me. From fingers clamped inside my convulsing pussy to the electric tips of my nipples and everything in between, I glowed. Effervesced. Steadily gliding on a jet stream of lust, drifting down, joy twitching at the corners of my mouth.

As my motor senses restarted one by one, I eased the fingers from my holes, both my breathing and pulse gradually slowing as my focus came to rest on the wall ahead of me. Row upon row upon row. Neatly arranged. My prizes.

Taking the condom by its rim from my leg, I rocked onto my knees and shuffled forward, grabbed a thumbtack from the bedside table and located the end of the frieze. Pressed the tack through the rubber opening, clamping it to the wall. With another pair of tacks, I positioned his photograph above the condom and secured it in place, sitting back to admire the collection in its entirety.

Two walls of the room were nearly covered from the waist up. I'd have to move onto the third soon. My gaze roved from photo to photo, man to man, recalling their qualities, their taste, preserved in the dangling cocoon of rubber beneath each. The French for condom is préservatif. In my own way, I was the embodiment of preservation.

Tonight's man – I didn't catch his full name, though his mates called him "Rhino" – made the tally one-sixty-four. Easily as good as number fifty-one who had tied me up and kissed every inch of my crawling dermis until I came in his mouth before he fucked me ragged. Almost on par with one-twenty–two who had clamped my nipples in the pincers of a skirt hanger and masturbated over me, splashing my lips, chin and aching tits with the sweetest tasting sticky come I'd ever known. He fed it to me, drop by glorious drop from his fingertips and I ravenously accepted.

So many high points. So many memories. So much delicious semen.

I sat on my haunches dripping a combination of my own juices and his from my pussy and rosebud onto the bed. Sated. For how long, I couldn't say. I planned to set the sheets washing before work in the morning, but for now I was deliriously happy. Glowing like the room's lights. A 2900K beacon of raw desire, attracting men and their ambrosial output like a siren lures sailors to shipwrecked rocky coastlines. To collect. To experience. To bask and replay their manliness over and over until I became lost in the treasured snapshots of greedy lust that drove me to wet, gasping completion.

I curled up on the bed among my collection of men, comforted by their proximity and rich aroma, drifting into slumber and imagining what tomorrow night would bring.