Sex Talk - Extract - I am a slut

I am a slut.    While the majority of women, it seems, when asked casually for a fuck, will indignantly  refuse, my response is always, "Yes, of course, why not?"  It's such a tiny mental step,  deciding to say yes and not caring what the world might think.    So when people use the word slut and similar terms to describe or address me, I don't  take offence - it's just a fact.    It's very simple.  I love getting fucked, I love sucking cock, I love getting licked, I love  playing with myself - I just love sex! I adore men, and like to live surrounded by them.   Somewhere along the line I've got hooked on having at least two at a time, and though I still  see plenty of guys on their own, I have to admit I don't feel like I've had a good session,  nowadays, unless I've taken a good few.  Everyone seems to have friends who are  interested and this suits me fine.  The more the merrier.    My sluttishness has begun to dominate my life recently.    As time goes on, I accumulate men, and now there are dozens and dozens who know me  and call me up occasionally.  While it's true that most guys who've had me I never see  again, when you've fucked as many as I have there's always those who want more of you,  and I don't discourage them.  It's nice to be popular.    I live in a largish flat in a central part of the city.  There are trees outside the window and  it's got a nice view of the river. The only other people in the building are a couple of young  male students who know all about what goes on and participate sometimes, so there's no  problem about people coming and going.  If the neighbours think anything, they don't  complain, and besides, I don't care.  I'm not playing loud music, and it's nobody's business.      It's got so that I'm always in demand.  The phone rings a lot and every time I get in, there  are several messages from men asking if they can see me.  Sometimes I'm shattered and  don't really feel like it, but I very seldom say no, especially if I know them, but often even if I  don't.    Because you see the very core of my sexuality, and what turns me on more than anything,  is availability.  I might have just come in from another session, or have a dreadful  headache, but a guy just has to say, "Oh, go on, please, can I come round and fuck you?",  and the twinges in my pussy take over.    I wank about it constantly, this idea of being always available, without question.  Of giving  men pleasure, of putting any stranger's desire for satisfaction above my own concerns.  I  walk around the streets feeling so good about the fact that hundreds of men have used me  - squirted their spunk up my pussy, in my mouth, and all over me.    It's like my little secret, when I'm at work, or out shopping, that I can look at someone and  think to myself, 'You don't know how many men have sprayed my face with their come  today!'    Strange, maybe, but it's because, although I'm strong and independent in some respects,  I'm very submissive when it comes to sex.  I get off on doing what I'm told.  And I don't find  it in the least degrading or humiliating.  It sets me free.    So when I get home sometimes and find someone hanging around the flat - sitting on the  steps or in his car - it doesn't matter that I'm angry he's come round unannounced.  He  knows that seeing me is as good as having me.  Whether he is demanding or polite, I will  merely shrug my shoulders and let him in.  It's happened over and over again, and I don't  see myself changing.    I'm being used, but I know it - and I need it.    So most nights, I'll have a handful of guys around who'll want to fuck me.  It doesn't matter  if I've just washed my hair, or been half way through a favourite television programme, or  trying to get some washing or ironing done, they'll come in and pounce on me - demand my  attention and make me please them.    Even if I've just seen a group of guys off, or it's really late at night, or I'm about to go out,  the door bell rings, and there I am again, filled up with cock, and loving it.    What a sucker!  (Pun intended!)    Being such a slut - and a very submissive one at that - also gets me into some very  demanding, not to mention precarious, situations, such as the one I'm in now.  At this  particular moment I'm not sure that I like it, but I know from experience that once it's over, I  shall be coming to the memory of it for days.    I'm in my own home, and on my own bed, but I've abdicated control over what's going on,  and I'm very uncomfortable!  There's a huge thick pillow stuck under my arse, and my arms  and legs are tied very tight and wide so I'm spreadeagled and really cannot move at all.    A guy called Dave is sitting on my face and his balls have been in my mouth for - too long!   My jaw hurts, my nose is right beneath his arsehole, and I can hardly breathe, but he's too  busy enjoying himself to care.  He loves his balls being sucked, and if I let up working on  them for a moment, he pinches my nipples, which are at the mercy of his heartless hands.    Dave is unquestionably a selfish, arrogant bastard, but he has his uses.  For the past  couple of months, he's been acting as my procurer - helping me to arrange gang bangs,  basically.  He likes to organise and he likes to watch, and though he sometimes gets on my  nerves immensely - like now - we've had a lot of fun together, I must admit.  Plus, he's got a  lovely thick cock and has a particular way of teasing my pussy with the tip of it that never  fails to get me going.    Somebody is fucking me and I honestly don't know who it is. There were a couple of guys  here already when Dave turned up with three friends and started tying me up, and the  doorbell's rung a couple of times since, so it could be anyone - probably a complete  stranger.  I make it three have fucked me since I first got strapped down like this, but one  thing I've learnt is that it's difficult to keep count in these situations.  It becomes one overall  experience, and I have to really concentrate if I particularly want to keep score, or rely on  someone else to do it.    Dave, after he'd tied me up of course, told me something tonight which has infuriated me.   I can hardly believe he'd really do it, but it seems he has.  He's had a little card printed with  my telephone number on it, like a prostitute's, but it's got these words written on it: "Always  Available Free."    It's all very well for him to laugh as he describes how he's been distributing them  everywhere, but I was not amused.  The phone will be ringing non stop now, and I don't  want to change my telephone number because of all the guys I do want to see again who  have got it.    But not only that, he's gone and used the name he always teases me with, and which he  knows I can't stand - Bimbi!  For some reason he thinks this is hilarious, but while I might  be a slut, I don't think I'm a bimbo, and I don't think the name suits me, somehow. I'm not  blonde for a start.    Anyway, he's done it now, and apparently that's why he came round tonight.  To see what  kind of calls we got and to invite a few lucky guys around.    I have to admit though, as Dave sits on me like this and watches while some stranger  rams his prick up me, and I can hear the chatter of the others who are waiting their turn,  that I'm not too unhappy.  I love situations like this!  It's not that I'm likely to have an orgasm  from this sort of treatment, but mentally, it's so escapist, to just lie back and be used,  knowing there's nothing you can really do to stop it, so you might as well just go with the  flow.   It's all very familiar to me now, and because I trust that no-one's really going to hurt me in  any serious way, I feel very abandoned and at home amongst all this male flesh.    Funny how life's ended up like this, but I'm in my element when my mouth and my pussy  are full up, and all I can see, hear, feel, smell and taste is men!!    At last Dave climbs off me and I take the opportunity to curse him a little.    "Oh, quit complaining," he says, pacing around and fixing himself a drink.  "Someone put  something in that mouth!"    So I'm busy on a big thick one when the phone rings and Dave answers it.    "The card, yes.  No, it's for real.  Come round and see for yourself, if you like.  She's  getting it at both ends, right now.  Can you bring some friends, you say?  Yes, why not.   How many?  Two or three - okay, that's fine.  I'll give you the address."    He's sitting there looking at me, pulling at his cock and inviting complete strangers to my  flat - my home!    How can he do it?  How can I do it?  I can see the risks, but I'm past caring.  Besides, as  long as the others are about, I reckon I'm okay.  There's safety in numbers - I hope.    Now I think everyone's had a go and they're standing round talking about me.    "Where'd you find her, then?" someone is asking Dave, like I belonged to him!    "You wouldn't believe it.  She walked into this pub on her own, all tarty, and virtually  begged everyone in the place to fuck her!"    "Don't be silly," I object, even though his story is partly true. I did walk into that pub on my  own with the objective of picking a few guys up.  I have reached the stage of doing things in  the most straightforward and frank way.  If you want several men at a time, daring to go into  a nice, busy, masculine pub is one of the best ways to get lucky.    "What a tart!" says one of Dave's friends, approvingly.    "What a nympho!" says another.    There was a time when I would've objected to the term nympho - can't a woman enjoy  herself without being labeled as some sort of loony? - but now I just let it pass.    "Let me free," I insist.  "I want to wank."    Dave hesitates, but then unties me from the bed.    "Go on, then.  Get yourself ready for the next batch."    I play with myself for a while, but then I decide I want to go to the loo, only to find they all  follow me into the bathroom.    "What's the big deal about watching a woman piss?  I don't know!"    It's fun, though, the way they gather round, and reach down to touch me while I'm doing it  (which puts me off!), and then I get lucky because one of them suddenly feels like licking  me clean afterwards.    I'm still sitting on the toilet with my legs wide open and this guy's head between my thighs,  when the phone rings again, and immediately after it, the doorbell.  A couple of minutes  later, Dave's poking his head round the door, with a coil of rope in his hand.    "Come on, gorgeous, we need you out here."    I sigh, and push the tongue away.  Such is the bed I have made for myself; it's a good  thing I enjoy lying in it so much!