Intense Throatfuck Experiences

I never thought I’d be the type to spill my guts like this on a public forum, but here I am, sitting in my dimly lit room, the glow of my screen casting shadows on the walls, and I can’t hold back anymore. You see, I’ve got this deepthroat fantasy that’s been burning inside me for years, twisting and turning like a serpent in my mind, and it’s time to let it out. It’s raw, it’s dirty, and it’s all mine – a throatfucking fantasy that’s consumed me in ways I can’t even explain without feeling that rush of heat between my legs. Let me take you through it, step by filthy step, because if you’re reading this, you’re probably just as twisted as I am, craving that intense, overwhelming sensation of pushing limits until everything blurs into pure ecstasy.

It all started back in college, when I was just a young guy trying to figure out what the hell turned me on. I remember this one girl, let’s call her Daria – she had these full lips that always seemed to be smirking at me, like she knew something I didn’t. We hooked up after a party, both of us buzzed on cheap beer and the thrill of sneaking away from the crowd. She was eager, pulling me into her dorm room, her hands fumbling with my belt as we crashed onto her bed. But it wasn’t until she dropped to her knees that things got real. She looked up at me with those wide eyes, and without a word, she took me in her mouth. Not just the tip, not some teasing lick – no, she went for it, sliding down until I felt the back of her throat. That first gag, that slight choke, it hit me like a lightning bolt. Deepthroat – the word itself makes my cock twitch just thinking about it. She pushed further, her throat tightening around me, and I grabbed her hair, not too rough at first, but enough to guide her. The sounds she made, those wet, slurping noises mixed with her muffled moans, it was like music to my depraved ears. I thrust deeper, feeling her swallow around me, her saliva dripping down my shaft, and in that moment, my throatfucking fantasy was born. It wasn’t just about getting off; it was about that power, that surrender, the way her eyes watered as she took every inch, proving she could handle it all for me.

From then on, I couldn’t shake it. Every hookup, every relationship, I’d steer things toward that deepthroat obsession. I’d whisper it in their ears during foreplay, my voice low and gravelly: “I want to fuck your throat until you can’t breathe.” Some girls backed off, calling me too intense, too dirty. But others? Oh, they lit up like fireworks. Take Emily, for instance – she was this fiery redhead I met at a bar downtown. We clicked instantly, trading stories about our wildest kinks over whiskey shots. When I confessed my throatfucking fantasy, she didn’t flinch; she leaned in closer, her breath hot against my neck as she said, “Show me.” We barely made it back to my place before she was on her knees, begging for it. I stood over her, my pants around my ankles, and she opened wide, her tongue flat and inviting. I slid in slowly at first, savoring the warmth, the way her lips stretched around me. But then I picked up the pace, gripping the back of her head, thrusting deep into her throat. She gagged hard, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she grabbed my ass, pulling me closer, encouraging me to go harder. The sensation was unreal – her throat convulsing around my cock, milking me with every spasm. I could feel her struggling for air, her nose pressed against my pelvis, and it drove me wild. “That’s it, take it all,” I’d growl, my voice raw with lust. We went at it for what felt like hours, her deepthroat skills pushing me to the edge over and over, until I finally exploded down her throat, watching her swallow every drop like it was her lifeline.

But fantasies like this don’t stay simple; they evolve, get dirtier, more primal. I started incorporating toys, blindfolds, even light bondage to amp up the throatfucking intensity. There was this one night with Lisa, a girl I dated for a few months. She was adventurous, always up for trying new things, and when I told her about my deepthroat stories from the past, she wanted to create our own. We set the scene in my bedroom, candles flickering, the air thick with anticipation. I tied her wrists behind her back with silk scarves, making her completely vulnerable. She knelt before me, her mouth open, eager. I teased her first, rubbing my cock against her lips, letting her taste the pre-cum beading at the tip. Then, without warning, I plunged in, deepthroating her in one swift motion. She choked, her body jerking, but the restraints kept her in place. I fucked her throat relentlessly, the wet gurgles filling the room, her saliva coating my balls as they slapped against her chin. “You love this, don’t you? Being my throat slut,” I’d say, my words filthy and unfiltered. She nodded as best she could, her eyes locked on mine, filled with a mix of submission and desire. It was raw, animalistic – no romance, just pure, unadulterated throatfucking fantasy playing out in real time. By the end, her makeup was smeared, her throat raw, but she begged for more, her voice hoarse as she whispered, “Again.”

Of course, not every encounter was perfect. There were times when it got too intense, when the girl tapped out, coughing and gasping for air. But even those moments fueled my fantasy, reminding me of the edge we were dancing on. I remember hooking up with a girl named Mia at a fetish party. The place was packed with people exploring all sorts of kinks, and we hit it off over shared stories of deepthroat experiences. She claimed she could take anything, so we found a semi-private corner, the bass from the music thumping in our veins. She dropped to her knees right there, surrounded by shadows and whispers from onlookers. I fed her my cock, inch by inch, until she was deepthroating me like a pro. But I pushed harder, throatfucking her with abandon, my hands tangled in her hair. She gagged violently, saliva spraying everywhere, and for a second, I thought she’d stop. Instead, she doubled down, her throat opening up in ways I’d only dreamed of. The crowd around us murmured approvals, adding to the thrill. It was dirty, public, and utterly intoxicating – my ultimate throatfucking fantasy come to life, with her lips bruised and swollen by the time we finished.

As the years went by, my deepthroat obsession only grew stronger. I’d watch porn late at night, searching for the roughest throatfucking scenes, imagining myself in the guy’s place. The way those women would take it, their throats bulging, eyes rolling back – it was hypnotic. I’d jerk off to it, my hand moving in rhythm with the on-screen thrusts, whispering to myself, “That’s what I want, that deepthroat surrender.” But porn was never enough; I needed the real thing. So I’d hit up dating apps, being upfront in my profile: “Looking for someone who loves deepthroat and throatfucking fantasies.” The responses varied – some ghosted, others sent nudes with captions like “Ready to choke on you.” One standout was Rachel, a brunette with a wicked smile. We met for coffee, but it quickly turned steamy. Back at her apartment, she stripped down, pushing me onto the couch. “Show me your fantasy,” she said, her voice sultry. I didn’t hesitate. I stood up, grabbed her by the ponytail, and guided her mouth onto me. She deepthroated effortlessly at first, but as I started throatfucking her, ramming deep and holding it there, she struggled beautifully. Her hands clutched my thighs, nails digging in, as I cut off her air for seconds at a time. The power rush was immense – controlling her breath, her pleasure, everything. When I finally let her up, she gasped, “More,” her voice ragged. We went on like that, alternating between slow deepthroats and brutal throatfucks, until we were both spent, covered in sweat and saliva.

Sometimes, though, the fantasy bled into my everyday thoughts. I’d be at work, in a meeting, and suddenly imagine the receptionist on her knees, deepthroating me under the desk. Or at the gym, watching a woman stretch, picturing her throatfucking me in the locker room. It was consuming, this deepthroat craving, making everything else seem vanilla. I even experimented with roleplay, dressing up scenarios to heighten the dirtiness. With a girl named Vanessa, we played out a master-slave dynamic. She was my submissive, collared and leashed, and I commanded her to deepthroat me whenever I pleased. “On your knees, slut,” I’d bark, and she’d obey, her mouth enveloping me completely. I’d throatfuck her until she was a mess, tears mixing with drool, her body trembling. It was raw, unfiltered – no safe words needed because we both knew the limits. The aftercare was sweet, holding her as she recovered, but the act itself was pure filth, a throatfucking fantasy that left us both craving more.

I can’t count how many women I’ve shared this with, each adding their own twist to my deepthroat stories. There was the time with Sophia, who introduced me to throat training. She had these dildos of varying sizes, and we’d spend evenings where she’d practice deepthroating them before taking me on. “Watch me,” she’d say, sliding a thick one down her throat without gagging. Then it was my turn – I’d throatfuck her gently at first, building up to rougher thrusts. Her progress was erotic as hell, seeing her go from novice to expert, her throat accommodating every inch. Or with Isabella, who loved incorporating dirty talk. “Fuck my throat like you own it,” she’d moan between gasps. I’d oblige, pounding away, the words spilling from my lips: “You’re my deepthroat whore, aren’t you?” It amplified everything, making the fantasy even dirtier.

But let’s get even dirtier, because why hold back? I’ve had sessions where it got messy, really messy. With a girl named Chloe, we explored facefucking in the shower, water cascading down as I deepthroated her against the tiles. The slipperiness added to the chaos, her gags echoing off the walls, saliva mixing with water. I’d pull out just to slap my cock against her face, then plunge back in, throatfucking her until she was begging for mercy – or more, depending on the moment. And then there was the outdoor adventure with Taylor. We hiked to a secluded spot in the woods, the risk of being caught heightening everything. She knelt on the dirt, leaves crunching under her knees, and I fed her my cock, deepthroating her amid the sounds of nature. The throatfucking was primal, my hands in her hair, thrusting like an animal. When I came, it was down her throat, her swallowing audible in the quiet forest.

These stories, these experiences, they’ve shaped me. My deepthroat fantasy isn’t just a kink; it’s a part of who I am, a dirty, raw desire that I embrace fully. If you’re out there, reading this, and it stirs something in you – that urge to submit, to take it all – hit me up. Let’s create our own throatfucking fantasy, one gag at a time. But for now, I’ll sign off, my mind already wandering to the next encounter, the next deepthroat delight waiting just around the corner.

Wait, but I can’t stop there. You wanted original, and I’ve got more to share. Let me dive deeper into one particular night that stands out, a throatfucking marathon that pushed boundaries like never before. It was with a woman named Brooke, someone I met through a kink community online. We chatted for weeks, exchanging deepthroat stories, building anticipation. She described how she loved the feeling of being used, her throat as a vessel for pleasure. I told her about my fantasies of endless throatfucking, holding back orgasm to prolong the torment. When we finally met, it was electric. We rented a hotel room, neutral ground for our depravity. She arrived in a trench coat, nothing underneath but lingerie that hugged her curves. We didn’t waste time with small talk; she dropped the coat, knelt, and opened her mouth. I stepped forward, my cock already hard, and slid in. The deepthroat was immediate, her lips meeting my base in one go. I groaned, gripping her shoulders, and started thrusting. Slow at first, savoring the tightness, then faster, the throatfucking building momentum. She gagged, but pushed through, her hands on my hips guiding me deeper. We moved to the bed, where I laid her head over the edge, the classic position for ultimate deepthroat access. Upside down, her throat aligned perfectly, and I fucked it like a pussy, balls deep with every stroke. The view was obscene – her breasts heaving, her body arching as she struggled for air. “Breathe when I let you,” I’d say, pulling out just enough for her to gasp, then plunging back in. Saliva poured from her mouth, dripping onto the floor, making everything slick and messy. We took breaks only to switch positions: her on all fours, me behind her head; standing against the wall, her pinned; even in the chair, her head in my lap for lazy deepthroats. Hours passed, my cock throbbing but holding back, edging myself through her throat. Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I exploded, filling her throat with cum that she swallowed greedily. We collapsed, exhausted, but satisfied – a throatfucking fantasy realized in full, filthy glory.

And that’s not even the end. I’ve had group experiences too, where deepthroat became a shared spectacle. Once, at a private party, I was with two women who both claimed to be deepthroat queens. We tested that claim in a bedroom upstairs. They took turns, one deepthroating me while the other licked my balls, then switching for throatfucking rounds. The competition was hot – each trying to outdo the other, gagging louder, taking me deeper. I’d grab their heads, alternating thrusts, the room filled with slurps and moans. It was a deepthroat overload, my fantasy multiplied by two, culminating in a messy finish where they shared my load.

Then there was the time I explored sensory deprivation with deepthroat. With a partner named Elena, we used a blindfold and noise-canceling headphones on her. She couldn’t see or hear, only feel my cock invading her throat. The surprise thrusts made her gag unpredictably, her body reacting with shudders. I’d throatfuck her in bursts, pulling out to let her anticipate the next deepthroat. It was psychological, dirty mind games enhancing the physical.

I’ve even incorporated toys into my throatfucking fantasies. With Mia again – yes, we hooked up multiple times – she brought a vibrating dildo. She’d deepthroat me while holding the vibe against her clit, her moans vibrating around my shaft. The added sensation was insane, making the throatfuck feel electric. We’d go until she came, her throat clenching in orgasm, pushing me over the edge.

But let’s get rawer. I’ve had moments where it got rough, consensual but intense. Slapping her face lightly with my cock before deepthroating, calling her names that made her wetter. “My little throat whore,” I’d say, thrusting hard. The degradation was part of the fantasy, the dirtiness amplifying everything.

Over time, I’ve collected these deepthroat stories like trophies, each one dirtier than the last. From quickies in cars, where she’d deepthroat me at red lights, to all-night sessions where throatfucking was the main event. It’s a fantasy that’s evolved, but the core remains: that deep, invading pleasure, the gags, the tears, the surrender.

If I keep going, I could fill pages with more – the beach encounter where sand got everywhere during a discreet deepthroat, or the office fling where she hid under my desk for throatfucking during lunch. But you get the idea. This is my world, my deepthroat obsession, raw and unapologetic. If it turns you on, good. If not, well, that’s your loss.

To hit that deeper level, let’s expand on another story. There was this woman named Gabriella, an exotic dancer I met at a club. She had a body built for sin, and when I tipped her generously, she whispered she’d love to show me her deepthroat skills privately. We arranged a meetup at my place. She arrived in heels and a short dress, teasing me with dances before getting down to business. On her knees, she deepthroated me with professional ease, her throat like velvet. But I wanted more – I stood her up, bent her over the couch, and throatfucked her from behind, her head turned. The angle was new, challenging, but she took it, gagging as I rammed deep. We experimented with positions: 69 where I’d deepthroat her while eating her out, the mutual pleasure intense. Then missionary throatfuck, her head hanging off the bed again. It was a night of exploration, my fantasy unfolding in endless variations.

Another one: with a girl named Harper, we did it in front of a mirror. Watching myself throatfuck her, seeing the bulge in her throat, was voyeuristic heaven. She’d look at the reflection too, her eyes watering, adding to the eroticism.

And with Jade, we incorporated ice cubes. She’d hold one in her mouth before deepthroating, the cold contrasting my heat, making every thrust shiver-inducing. Then hot wax dripped on her body during throatfucks, the pain-pleasure mix explosive.

I’ve had vanilla relationships turn kinky when I introduced my deepthroat fantasy. Like with Katie, who was shy at first. I started slow, teaching her how to relax her throat, building up to full deepthroats. Her progress was rewarding, from tentative licks to full-on throatfucking. It became our thing, dirty secrets shared in whispers.

In public places, the thrill was unmatched. Deepthroating in movie theaters, her head in my lap during slow scenes. Or in parks at night, throatfucking under stars. The risk made it dirtier.

Online, I’ve shared anonymous deepthroat stories on forums, getting off on responses. People sharing their own throatfucking fantasies, inspiring new ideas.

But enough stories – or is it? To reach deeper into the fantasy, let’s imagine a perfect match, a deepthroat enthusiast. We live out every scenario: roleplay as boss-secretary, where she deepthroats me under the desk; teacher-student, throatfucking as “punishment”; stranger in a bar, quick deepthroat in the bathroom.

We’d travel, finding new places for our kink. In Paris, throatfucking in a hotel overlooking the Eiffel Tower. In Tokyo, deepthroating in a love hotel with mirrors everywhere. In New York, rooftop throatfuck under city lights.

We’d experiment with durations – edging for hours, my cock in her throat intermittently, building tension. Or speed runs, fast throatfucks to quick orgasms.

Incorporating food: chocolate sauce dripped on my cock before deepthroating, making it messy. Or whipped cream, her licking it off during throatfucks.

Sensory play: feathers tickling her while I deepthroat, heightening sensations. Or blindfolds, as before.

Group dynamics: inviting another woman for double deepthroat, them alternating.

But always consensual, always safe – that’s key in my fantasies.

Reflecting, this deepthroat obsession has taught me about desire, limits, communication. It’s dirty, yes, but profound.

If you’re still reading, perhaps you’re imagining yourself in these stories. That’s the point – to share the raw, erotic essence of throatfucking fantasy.

This post is my confession, my invitation. Dive into your own deepthroat world, and maybe our paths cross in the filth.

All characters and events are fictional. This is an original erotic story intended for adults 18+ only.