Author: u/Real_Life_Real_Doll
Date: ??-??-2021
Source: https://www.reddit.com/r/SluttyConfessions/comments/hminoz/my_f24_purpose_in_life_is_for_men_to_enjoy_me/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf
Story
I’ve been a slut since college, and I’ve loved every minute of it. I love sex, and it’s always been easy for me to get. I thought that was what I loved about being a slut. Do my makeup just right, wear clothes that show off my body, act and talk like a mindless toy. Nothing else mattered. If I wanted to get fucked, then I would get fucked. I thought that was why I loved being a slut, but I was wrong.
Last weekend I was gangbanged to within an inch of my life. It was a little gift for myself. I’ve been isolating for months and the absence of cock in my life, aside from the occasional blowjob, was driving me crazy. I needed this. From Friday afternoon to Sunday night, I was available for anyone to fuck. Period. No questions asked. I thought that I just needed to be fucked, harder and for longer than one or two men could fuck me. But what I realized, even after I had been fucked by dozens of guys, was that I wasn’t driven to satisfy my own needs. I was driven to satisfy theirs.
Even after they had completely painted me white, when both of my holes were killing me, and my lips were bruised from having so many cocks shoved down my throat, I was always eager and begged for more. What I loved most wasn’t getting fucked by all of those guys, or how many times they made me cum. I loved that I was giving them pleasure. I loved the looks on their faces when they saw the naked body they were about to fuck, and the sounds they made when they entered me. I loved when they called me a whore or a slut or a good girl. Some of them wanted to hit me and I loved that too, as long as my body brought them pleasure. Even after I thought that having one more orgasm might kill me, endorphins flooded my brain whenever a new cock entered me. Most of all, I loved when they came. In me, on me, it didn’t matter. I was fulfilling my purpose. Even after they had used me like a fleshlight and spat in my face, my heart sang because I was a good slut and they enjoyed using me. How could I have been so stupid? I didn’t love being a slut because it satisfied my need for sex. I love being a slut because that’s what I am. I love being a slut because my body was made for men to enjoy, and giving men pleasure is my new purpose in life.