Blissful Torment

Yes officer, I am sorry. No, I do not feel actual remorse. No, that's not a contradiction. It's just that I don't feel responsible, and I feel I am more of a victim than the people who called you. Okay, okay, I get what you're saying, but really, I have less control over this than you can control your heartbeat. I'm not making this up! Okay, let me tell you the full story.

When I sexually awakened as a child, or teenager, or whatever you call that age, I did not even notice anything was wrong. Internet wasn't even a thing yet, porn was unavailable in the small town I grew up in, and the symptoms were not as pronounced as they are now. I was a late bloomer when it came to sex, so no girlfriend ever said anything.

In my early twenties I finally got access to the internet, and of course porn. My dick looks completely normal, small even, compared to what I saw in porn. I just always assumed most porn actors came a bunch of time off camera, so the "cum-shots" were a bit unimpressive. My first girlfriend's nearly terrified reaction when she knelt between my knees, sucked me off and I drenched her in about half a litre of cum was a bit of an eye-opener. The same evening I googled on how much semen people produce and shoot in a single load. Apparently everybody else measures that in millilitres.

Yes, I cum a lot. A ridiculous lot. No, the doctors don't know what it is, and really, can you blame me for avoiding prostate checkups? Even normal people ejaculate during those, and I have to insist to put a bucket over my dick for the duration, and it still is a mess.

Problems? Of course it causes problems! I have only cum twice during vaginal sex, because my girlfriends hate how it pushes my dick out of them, and painfully distends their vagina when suddenly a litre of fluid is pushed into them. Condoms are a joke of course. Handjobs are the least hassle.

Yes, I'm aware that everybody wishes they came a large amount, and that really, I would rather this not happen.

And that's not all. I also cum often. It's pretty normal for me to wank twice daily, once in the morning, once in the evening. It's a necessity, really. I just can't control my orgasms otherwise. They just happen when I get too aroused. My dick just explodes in a shower of cum down my trousers, and I hobble to the next bathroom to clean up as good as I can. I have a spare pair and a roll of kitchen towels in my backpack at all times.

Wet dreams? I have one or two every week, and I wake up in a puddle! Hell, I got some bed sheets custom made from some expensive cloth invented by NASA that resists all dirt and stains perfectly.  I could probably wear diapers, but I would like to keep at least a little bit of my dignity, thankyouverymuch.

I can easily cum about ten times a day, though I really need to drink some water if I don't want to feel dizzy from dehydration. 

The matter at hand? A few hours ago when the lady complained about sticky fluid dripping out of my trousers? Yeah that was definitely my cum. I was late this morning, and thought I could get away without for once. I really did not expect that a cheerleader squad shops for ice cream at the store where I get my lunch.

Just imagine that! About a dozen fit, sexy young women, scantily clad, their fit bodies on display for everybody to see (and let's be honest, they enjoyed being leered at by all the guys who could never score a chick like that), buying ice-cream and deliberately slowly and sensually licking it while making eye contact and winking? The whole store just stopped and stared, imagining sticking their dick into barely covered pussies as they bent the girls over the cashiers desk and smacked their butts.

...

Well, this is awkward, but could you please get me my backpack? The mental image was a bit too detailed.

Originally written 2019-04-14, © Blissful Torment