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Ohh please do? I can imagine it now—both of us ovulating, eager to become mothers. We invite you over to help, it being so much more convenient, more... intimate to make a baby the old fashioned way, no? We spend the weekend taking turns on your gorgeous cock, telling you how to fuck us to make us feel the best, to make us cum and draw your hot, virile seed into our wombs. You bred us both, we found out—more than we ever dared to hope for! We spend the next nine months constantly touching each other, touching and rubbing our pregnant bellies and growing breasts and soft, well bred pussies... 

I’m in the bathroom, trying to take care of business. Anxious and distracted, like I always am in the men’s restroom, hoping no one will be able to tell I’m trans. Finishing up, I notice a hole in the wall of my stall as a dick is pushed through. I’m shocked at first, maybe even kind of grossed out. But not the part of me that’s a slut. That’s the predominant part. And, as I stare at that cock longer and longer, I just get wetter and wetter.

I keep thinking about being a good fuckhole for that cock, and the man behind it. I can’t stop imagining sucking and fucking that cock, and whatever rational part of my mind was left rapidly gets drowned out. Almost impulsively, I reach out and grab it. It’s thick, and hot, and already dripping a little precum from the tip. I lick the precum off, and lick the rest of the head before I start sucking. It feels so good to have such a gorgeous, hard cock in my mouth. I’m getting so horny thinking about how I’m sucking a stranger’s cock through a gloryhole in some random bathroom. I’m just a hole for him to use.

I’m sucking in earnest, fucking my face with his cock, barely pausing to breathe. I want him to feel the back of my throat. I want to swallow him down like a good boy does. He deserves to use me as a cumdump. But as much as I adore sucking his cock, I desperately need my pussy to be full right now. There’s almost an aching need inside of me, and I feel like if I’m not fucked soon that I’ll implode.

I swallow him down one last time and then pull myself away. Standing, I shuck off my loose jeans and curl my hand around his cock. It’s nice and wet from my spit, and I’m already plenty wet as well. I turn around, bend myself over, and guide his cock toward my pussy. The instant it slides inside me, it’s all I can do to hold in a moan. I feel so amazingly full.

I slowly start fucking myself on this stranger’s gorgeous cock, furiously rubbing my clit. I try my best to be quiet, but I don’t think I’m successful. I’m so desperate to get off. I can’t stop thinking about the cock inside of me, belonging to a man I’ll never see. I’m obsessed with the idea of being fucked, and used, and left behind with a load of cum in my pussy.

I’m almost there. I want to cum so badly. I want this man to be able to feel how much I love being a set of holes for him to use. And I’m not the only one close to cumming. I feel his cock grow stiffer, hear him hold back a groan. The idea that he’s about to fill me with his cum, maybe even knock me up, sends me over the edge. I cum so hard I can barely breathe. I can feel him filling me, and know my cervix is drinking it up as I cum. I never want this to end.

Once he’s done, he pulls himself out through the hole. I hear his pants zip, and he quietly leaves the bathroom. I’m in a daze. I can barely stand. I know I reek of sex and cum, and I’m shaking. I want him to come back in, decide that he needs to keep me and use me as his cumdump 24/7. But even if he doesn’t, I know I’m never going to forget this. Especially since, unbeknownst to me, he’s managed to knock me up.

kissing each other, touching, sucking and playing with each others tits, rubbing our little pussies together, going down on each other and pounding each other's holes with a strapon, moaning like whores the whole time

and i want to upload it online as lesbian porn. and i want to send videos and pictures to straight men to jerk off to.

This place is pitch black dark and cavernous with lots of little nooks and crannies. There are beds, couches, and mats strewn randomly around. At a typical event there are about 6 women and about 10 men. The men are required to be naked in the “play” areas. The women are required to be either naked or “dress down”, meaning they can keep something on as long as there is unrestricted access to the vagina and/or rectum.

The role of the female participants is to collect a set number of keys that are scattered around the room. The keys can be used to unlock the door that allows the participant to exit the rape room and “win the game”. The role of the male participants is to locate and rape the women before they can leave. In order to balance things out, after a rape is completed and the man cums- he must release her.

This is not a pick-up bar, nor is it a swingers club. Conversations are disallowed. Obviously, there are no cameras allowed at these events. This is done in total darkness. The men have to navigate the woman’s anatomy by feel. The women never see the men, never see the penises. Everything they do is by feel as well.

But the darkness isn’t just a fun way of adding an air of mystery. Deprivation of sight has two remarkable effects. First, it heightens your awareness and amplifies all other senses. Sounds take shape and sensations become images. Second, it removes any semblance of decency or morality that might get in the way of your gratification. It play’s off the woman’s anxiety of pursuit and capture. An orgasm is a trip to an unspeakable heaven courtesy of a blob of biology that you never saw nor related to another human. Of course, the women are there on their own volition, yet it’s impossible to give consent to someone you don’t know and can’t see. You don’t even know how many men comprise the sexual feeding frenzy in which you are the feast.

The dynamic is probably worth a thesis in psychology. Most striking is how the darkness forces you to close your eyes. It almost as if you’re trying to give yourself a reason for this lightless intensity. Not being able to see with your eyes open is very disquieting. So you close them. No one talks. It’s almost as if language has been suspended, yet the sounds are telling. The women are nearly silent. Very different from the swingers club or parties where they feel the need to scream and howl and shout “oh yeah, oh yeah” as if it’s some kind of hosanna to the sex gods. Every now and then you’ll hear one gasp from the surprise of a particularly enthusiastic penetration. Every now and then you’ll hear one faintly sigh as she feels a couple squirts of semen hit her cervix. The men are less quiet. You can hear panting and breath passing between clenched teeth. The occasional crescendo of orgasm.