Hi. Remember me? Anne? I shared a couple of stories about... well, my lifelong obsession with cocks. Just to bring you up to speed, I'm twenty-eight now, and have been married for a couple of years. His name is Mike, and I am absolutely the luckiest woman in the whole wide world for having found him.

But let me start back where I left off. After my first time with Brad, I fell for him pretty hard. And he definitely loved me, and we remained together until he graduated. He took a job overseas and told me that he just couldn't see trying to maintain a long-distance relationship like that. Losing him was hard, but he was probably right.

I graduated with a degree in art history, and reality hit me pretty hard. I wound up getting an office job managing benefits, but it was boring work that I hated. I showed up, did the work, went to the gym sometimes, and came home to an empty apartment. I made a few friends at work, but my social life was basically nonexistent.

I missed Brad. And if I’m being honest, I missed his cock. That old dildo I bought on my eighteenth birthday had stayed buried in a drawer the whole time we were together. Once he was gone, I dug it out again. It helped a little, but mostly it just reminded me how much better the real thing had been.

So I did the modern thing: I signed up with a dating app. Even before I finished my profile, I was inundated with messages from a multitude of men. The vast majority I just deleted out of hand. There were a few that I had conversations with, but those inevitably went sideways. Just like the boys in high school and that first year of college, it was obvious they only wanted one thing, and it just wasn't good enough. I was on the verge of deleting the app and just accepting that this was what life had in store for me.

And then I got a message from Mike.

He was just a year older than me, and he worked as a financial advisor in an investment firm. We chatted, and he seemed interested in me. He invited me out to either have coffee or drinks - my choice. I chose coffee. We met at a little cafe and got to know each other. After an hour and a half, he invited me out for a dinner date later in the week, and I gave him my number.

Despite having an office job, Mike was well built. He was easily a foot taller than me and had broad shoulders. Like Brad, he had been a student athlete, but now he just worked out a few times a week to stay fit. He was also a pretty good dresser - when he took me out, he was always in a tie. We did rent a couple of bikes and go biking through a park, too. Through it all, he never pressured me for sex. He was a perfect gentleman. He felt safe, like Brad had, and where Brad had been front and center in my fantasies, Mike started to replace him. I started fantasizing more and more about Mike's broad shoulders and wondering what being fucked by him would be like.

Just when I was beginning to wonder when it might finally happen, Mike invited me back to his place after a nice dinner out. We had had a few drinks, so we took an Uber back to his place. He invited me up to show me around his apartment. In the back of my mind, I figured that a tour wasn't really what he had in mind. His apartment was very nice - larger than I expected, but I didn't really get to see much of it that first evening.

When we were in the middle of the living room, he turned around and took me firmly in his arms and kissed me full on the mouth. I felt the heat in my belly and in places a bit further south. His hands ran down my back and hovered near, but not quite on my ass. I pressed myself into him and then felt his hard cock brush against my thigh through his pants. In an instant my fevered brain wanted nothing more than to end the suspense and see what it had been imagining. I sank to my knees and reached for his belt and fumbled, getting his pants loose and then down. Then I lowered his boxers.

There it was. Mike's cock. I couldn't help but stare at it. It was bigger than Brad's. Not... outrageously so, but it was thicker and longer. I wrapped my hand around the base of it and felt its unmistakable heat and weight. The butterflies in my groin flared up again.

Mike's voice broke my mesmerization. "Like it?"

I looked up at his face. He had a wry smirk. I smiled and leaned in to take the head of his cock in my mouth. I ran my tongue around it and heard him give a little groan. I felt one of his hands come to rest on the back of my head. It didn't press, but its presence implied control. I looked up at his face, and he was looking back at me. I couldn't say for certain, but his visage looked like expectation. I gave a little bit of suction and began to bob my head on his cock, swirling my tongue around the head and stroking the base of it.

"Oh yeah, baby. That's it. You're a good little cocksucker, aren't you? You like sucking my cock? Huh?"

Oh god, I can't tell you how hot his dirty talk made me. I moaned and could feel my pussy positively leaking while I sucked him. I let go of his cock and scrambled to get my arms out of the straps of my dress and push it down my torso while I continued to suck him.

Next thing I knew, he grabbed at my shoulders and pulled me up to my feet. My dress fell the rest of the way down and puddled by my feet. He kicked his shoes off quickly, then pulled his feet out of his pants, then reached down and put his hands behind my knees, picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. He set me down on the bed and scrambled to take his jacket, tie and shirt off while I got rid of my bra and panties.

He climbed on top of me without a moment's hesitation. I spread my thighs apart for him, and I felt his cock at the entrance to my sex. He pushed hard, and I felt my pussy stretch impossibly for him. His monster cock filled me up, and then retreated before plunging in again. He started fucking me with steady, forceful thrusts, and then he grabbed my left wrist with his hand and pinned it to the bed beside my head. He was taking me.

"Oh yeah," he murmured with a stern, commanding tone, "That's a nice tight pussy. You like the way I fuck that little pussy of yours? You like my cock? Tell me how much you love it."

His dirty talk took my excitement up another level. All I could muster in response were single syllables, "Yes! God! Yes! Yes! Please!"

"You gonna come for me while I fuck you? Huh?"

He kept that same steady, deep rhythm, and I could feel it building fast, faster than I was used to. The way he held me down, the way he talked to me, the sheer presence of him… it was overwhelming in the best way. When I came, it hit me hard. I cried out and arched under him, my whole body tightening around his cock. But he didn't slow down at all. He just kept up his hard driving, with beads of sweat appearing on his brow.

"Oh, yeah! That's it. Make that pussy dance for my cock!"

And then just as suddenly, he pulled out and moved up my torso. He stroked his cock quickly a few times and then groaned loudly as thick ropes of his come erupted from the tip of his cock and splashed on my belly.

He sighed and lay down beside me. He reached over gently and turned my head, and kissed me gently. I was stunned by the contrast - it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He turned and reached for a box of tissues by the bed, came back and cleaned me up. Then he wrapped his arms around me and just held me.

"Thank you, Anne. That was wonderful."

I let out a shaky little laugh and curled into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “You’re kind of dangerous, you know that?” I said softly. “One minute you’re fucking me like you own me, and the next you’re this sweet. It’s a lot.” I kissed his chest. “I really liked it, though. All of it."

I reached down and wrapped my hand around his cock. It wasn’t fully hard anymore, but it was still impressively big and warm in my hand. I gave it a gentle squeeze.

He chuckled, "At your service, ma'am."

We fell asleep like that, tangled up together. When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I thought about was his cock. I looked down at it, still soft against his thigh, and reached over to wrap my hand around it. It felt heavy and warm. That was the moment I decided that this was my cock now. Mike was my man, and from that point on, his cock was going to be the center of my obsession.

We kept dating for a few more months. We met each other's families, and really got to become part of each other's lives. But the omnipresent undercurrent was our mutual obsession with each other. Or, at least, my hunger for his cock. I never got over just how perfectly it filled my hungry pussy. And his dirty talk was always about how tight I was around him and how good that felt. Whenever his cock was hard, he changed - he became imposing, almost demanding, and I became his plaything. Our energies fed off each other.

The first time he took me from behind, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back while he fucked me hard. With his other hand, he smacked my ass, over and over, until it was pink and stinging. I loved every second of it. Whatever we did, it was always his choice, and I was always ready for it.

I used to sleep in pajamas, but when I moved in with Mike, I started sleeping naked for him. He told me he loved rolling over in the middle of the night and having my naked body next to him. More than once, he would wake me up in the morning before the alarm went off and present his hard cock for me to take in my mouth. Even half asleep, sucking his cock would always make my pussy wet, and more often than not I’d end up climbing on top and riding him while he either mauled my tits or smacked my ass until I came.

He went down on me from time to time too, but even then, the intensity was always turned up to eleven. He didn't tease or coax pleasure from me, he imposed it. And even when he made me come with his tongue, it was never enough. It always just made me beg for his cock.

I've admitted to him that I'm obsessed with it. Whenever I wake up in the morning next to him, the first thing I do is reach over and touch his cock. Mike sleeps pretty soundly, so he usually doesn't notice. But if he has morning wood, just touching it and feeling his warm, heavy hardness makes my pussy twitch. I can't help but wrap my hand around it and stroke it just a little, and that's usually enough to wake him.

"You want my cock, don't you?" he'll say, his voice still heavy with sleep. "You couldn't wait for me to wake up? Does it make you wet, baby? Come here, get your mouth on my cock. That's it!"

And just like that, every rational thought leaves my brain, and I want nothing more than to feel his cock jerk and squirt.

I leaned hard into my role as his sexual plaything. I kept some skin-tight tops and some booty shorts I'd never wear in public just to show off for him as I puttered around the house or made dinner. More than once, he’d walk up behind me, reach around and under my shirt to grope my breasts, and murmur filthy praise into my ear while I reached back to stroke his hard cock through his pants. Then he’d force me over the counter, rip down those shorts and fuck me then and there, smacking my ass and demanding that I come hard so he can feel my pussy flutter and convulse around him.

After I moved in, I quit the job I hated and became his homemaker. We eventually got married, but it felt like a formality. I had already given myself to him completely that first time I had his cock. There is still nothing in the world that compares to it. He still takes me out and treats me like a lady in public. But any time he decides he wants me, he becomes the imposing, dominant man behind the cock I serve, and I become his to use however he likes.

One time after he got done absolutely railing me, I was lying in his arms, and he gently stroked the side of my face with his fingertip and asked, "How did I get so lucky to find you, Anne?"

I can't think of a moment that moved my heart more—naked as I was with my hair disheveled and his cum dripping out of me. But even as the joy spread out from my heart, I knew that as happy as he said I made him, it paled in comparison to the wonderful life I’ve gotten from him... and his cock.

There's only one thing he hasn't done with his cock... And I have been thinking more and more about it lately: I want him to breed me—to fill me with his cum and make me bear his child to continue his line. It’s the least I can do for the man I’m so devoted to… and for the cock I’m so completely obsessed with.