This story was created by using two different chat bots, first creating a story in one with a simple prompt, then some tweeking of the result, followed by running the whole thing through bot2, with lots more prompts and endless edits. I'll post the story in a few parts since it's a short story almost novella. It makes me horny for our favorite pastime whenever I'm working on it, or just reading it for pleasure. Have fun!
Ouroboros Awakening - the Inaugural Conclave
Before the first whispers of dawn, as the city stirred to life with the traffic clamor and mournful cries of foghorns, I was already wide awake, senses alight, and exquisitely aroused. My fingers danced over my oozing cock, caressing its warm, throbbing length and my sensitive nuts, smearing my leaking cum with reverent strokes. The anticipation, a potent elixir, was almost unbearable. It had begun the moment I first laid eyes on the clandestine notification for the inaugural conclave of autofellators, a gathering right here in my beloved San Francisco. Circulating initially through the encrypted veins of the deepest web forums, it had, to no one's surprise, soon seeped into more open channels, a siren's call echoing through the digital ether. Deceptively simple in its promise, yet hinting at boundless fulfillment, I had signed up with a feverish haste that bordered on desperation.
Ouroboros Awakening
Four Days of Bliss for the Autofellator!
Learn to love yourself, watch others, and have fun!
A Weekend of Self-Fulfillment in San Francisco.
This was more than an event; it was a summons to Mecca for a soul like mine, a devoted pilgrim of self-pleasure. I have been intimately connected with autofellatio since the tender age of eight, and a daily, utterly obsessed autofellator since the glorious rush of my first spurting cum at the age of twelve. Autofellatio doesn't merely occupy my thoughts, it fills my very consciousness, a pervasive hum, a constant invocation, as I chant my personal morning prayer:
Atum, our blessed father of autofellatio.
Thy divine cream splashes over us.
So flood my throat with sacred sperm.
And keep us with you forever,
In the Kingdom of Autofellatio,
Where I am in love me myself & I,
Eddie, the autofellator.
Autofellatio! Autofellatio! Autofellatio!
Amen.
A tempest of arousal swirled within me, fueled by the imagined debaucheries and exquisite self-explorations that the next four days promised an autofellator as utterly obsessed as I. A morning's devotion to self-love was not merely a desire, but acutely needed. With an urgent drive, I rose and washed, then donned the soft, yielding embrace of loose jogging pants and a simple t-shirt. A high-protein pineapple smoothie, crafted to invigorate and subtly sweeten my essence was prepared to take on a brisk, contemplative walk around the neighborhood. As I slipped out the door, a solitary THC gummy found its way to my tongue, and a mischievous curiosity sparked: “Would any discerning eye catch the rhythmic sway of my nine beautiful inches, bobbing and dancing freely beneath the fabric of my trousers?”.
Before I knew it, the gummy's magic took hold, unfurling a deeper, more insistent wave of horniness. A dark, inviting wet spot began to bloom on the front of my pants, an undeniable testament to the fervent pleasure coursing through me, much like the visible excitement I expected to witness throughout the conclave. I delved a hand inside, a furtive yet deliberate movement, to coax forth a pearlescent slick of cum—some to savor on my tongue, some to anoint my lips, allowing the rich, musky scent of my own sperm to overtake me. This lovely scent is more than an aroma, as I’ve before affirmed, this was the very essence, the olfactory signature, of autofellatio itself. This is my intimate daily ritual, my personal chant, my self devotion, and a testament to my inner Ouroboros at play in the Kingdom of Autofellatio.
As if in a trance, time slipped away, then suddenly I found myself back home in a familiar passionate embrace on my bed. The world outside ceased to exist as I succumbed to the intoxicating allure of self-love. With each deep thrust, a symphony of sensations enveloped me, culminating in a blissful explosion of creamy release. The sweet, musky aroma of my own essence lingered in the air, a testament to the profound pleasure I had experienced. I savored every moment, unwilling to let go of the exquisite mess I had created.
It was time to get going. I was so excited, and quickly got ready for a long horny day, dressing in loose, comfortable shorts, loafers, t-shirt, and a light jacket—a functional uniform for the days of uninhibited self-pleasure ahead. My autofellatio floor pad was rolled up and ready for action, and my daypack was filled with everything I might need: a supply of gummies, smartphone, and very essential…a small vial of my own sperm, to sniff and taste throughout the day, enjoying my intoxicating scent…the scent of autofellatio. After a light lunch, I summoned a ride share. In my anticipation I felt a throbbing ache, pulled my snake out, and gazed down upon my lovely oozing meat. Discreetly, throughout the entire ride to the Dog Patch, my hand remained buried in my shorts, caressing me as I repeatedly licked the sweet, musky cum from my fingers.
We arrived before the massive warehouse in the appropriately named Dog Patch district. Yes, a perfectly named neighborhood for a gathering of autofellators! I haven’t met a dog yet who doesn’t lick their own privates…every dog is an autofellator or autocunnilinguists. You can’t say that about humans, but it appears that our kind is growing. A formidable crowd of eager men, transfemmes, and maybe others, were waiting with great anticipation, their collective energy a tangible hum. Everyone knew, instinctively, that this was going to be an experience like no other, a crescendo of self-pleasure. I scanned the throng, noting countless bulging crotches and darkening wet spots—a clear indication that many of these lovely swollen cocks were already on the verge of, or had recently engaged in self-sucking. "I'm among my kind," the profound realization hit me. I melted into the crowd, immediately falling into friendly, enlightening conversations about our shared, exquisite pastime, autofellatio.
The distinct, intoxicating scent of cum, that pervasive aroma I had come to associate with pure self-devotion, hung heavy and inviting in the air…the smell of autofellatio! A glorious spectrum of devotees surrounded me: older, seasoned self-suckers, some barely eighteen, and every age in between. Many races, short and tall, big and small, yet unified in a singular identity, autofellators all. My cock, eager and nearly hard, with a trickle of cum dripping down my leg. Then, a collective surge of excitement, and the gates began to swing open! In poured the horny faithful in a tidal wave of lust and anticipation. My throbbing cock brushed intimately against others in the zealous press to get through the doors. "I'm in! It's beginning! A huge party of autofellators in play land!”.
The Inaugural Autofellators’ Conclave
The world's first ever convocation of self-loving autofellators unfurled as a lavish tableau of corporeal artistry and unbridled lustful fantasy. From every self-loving corner of the globe, devotees of our singular pleasure gathered, each soul alight with the fervent desire to plunge deeper into the intoxicating depths of their own fixations. Only those who bore the undeniable mark of true talent, meticulously verified and irrefutably proven, were granted passage into this exclusive sanctum, and proof was duly required. Not a single participant lamented the high toll of admission, for the air itself throbbed with a palpable current of excitement, arousal, and an almost sacred, lurid expectation. Disappointment found no quarter within these hallowed halls; upon entry into the opulent venue, a transcendent feast for the senses awaited. The sound system, a marvel of modern design, wove an intricate tapestry of AI-generated melodies, songs and chants dedicated to the autofellator’s very essence, where eroticism and poetry intertwined, echoing through the gilded chambers like a siren's call to the self-consumed.
“Open For Autofellatio!” - Let the fun begin!
Near the grand entry, on a modest stage, a handsome, sinuous older man, clad in nothing but crotchless shorts and an Ouroboros emblazoned t-shirt, his magnificent, uninhibited cock hanging and swaying with a hypnotic rhythm, greeted us. "Welcome kindred spirits to Ouroboros Awakening," his voice resonated, thick with anticipation, "the first ever organized congregation of autofellators from every horny corner of the world! Every race, every age, every like-minded soul is gathered here to learn, to share, and to revel in what we have all discovered to be our sacred, self-given gift. This, my darlings, is the genesis of something utterly new—a space to openly celebrate the profound joys, the exquisite pleasures, and the boundless love that autofellatio bestows upon us."
The visionary behind this audacious endeavor, Clyde O’Longly, continued his sermon to the eager throng, his voice a potent incantation: "We have but one sacred dress code here: NO PANTS!, or at the very least, attire yourselves in fun crotchless garments. Autofellators, we ask to see your cocks—no matter their glorious size or humble charm, we wish to see them all! Let them hang freely, unbound and proud. And never, ever feel embarrassment for a smaller endowment; embrace the profound pride of being an autofellator. So, everyone... suck and love yourselves whenever the urge consumes you whilst you are within these hallowed walls. Indeed, wouldn't everyone here adore witnessing your intimate devotion?"
A wave of fervent agreement rippled through the electrified crowd, and Clyde, with a knowing flourish, waved his eleven-inch, semi-hard snake before the audience, his pendulous scepter of pleasure. "Let these four fun-filled days of autofellatio commence, and let your Ouroboros be unleashed!" Clyde then gracefully ceded the stage, allowing others to delve into the day's planned events. He found a chair, settling near the edge of the stage, and without a moment's hesitation, lowered his head to his own snake, lost in his self-sucking as Dickie passionately detailed the host of carnal delights that awaited everyone on this gloriously horny opening day.
The cavernous warehouse, was now transformed into a temple of self-pleasure, cleverly divided into myriad alcoves and zones, each dedicated to a diverse menu of autofellatio themed events. Long dicked guys and transfemmes performed live with uninhibited artistry, their bodies a testament to our mutual obsession. Panel discussions offered a chance to delve into the philosophy and techniques of our shared passion, much like the insights shared by Master Jack on ball-sucking and anal play. A myriad of expert demonstrations and awe-inspiring feats of flexibility and control promised endless stimulation.
Attendees might lose or find themselves in small, private rooms alone or for intimate hookups, just like one I would have with Snake. Or we could revel in the horny energy found in large and small theaters, maybe seek companionship and connections in the lounges, and even purchase incredible autofellatio themed toys, novelties, artwork and more, from the souvenir shops. An intoxicating tapestry of sights, sounds, and feverish expectations bonded to create an atmosphere so horny, so utterly and exquisitely charged.
Ouroboros Gift Boutiques
‘Ouroboros Gift Boutiques’, the autofellatio themed souvenir shops, were rife with pulsing erotic energy, offered an intoxicating abundance of unique treasures. Here, one could find erotic art, ingenious aids designed to enhance self-pleasure, and a treasure trove of downloadable animations, vids, and sound recordings—songs, chants, poetry, and stories woven from our obsession with autofellatio. T-shirts, emblazoned with provocative designs of autofellators in the act, and phrases such as "I Love Autofellatio," "Autofellatio Love," "Love Yourself, Autofellate!", "I'm An Autofellator!", “Don’t Outsource, Autofellate”. "I Love Selfsucking”….you get the picture. One could order custom phrases for the garments which could be printed on the spot, offering a billboard for one’s personal declaration, or for broadcasting any explicit autofellatio sentiment one could imagine. Or browse among plentiful choices of crotchless, soft cotton pants or shorts, artfully decorated with silhouettes of autofellators in different states of self-oral love.
And of course, useful toys were available for the playful autofellator: shiny cock rings, stimulating ball stretchers, throbbing dildos, fun vibrators, and even a playful menagerie of butt plugs, some with fake fur tails—dog, pony, fox, cat, bunny, raccoon, some featuring warm, softly pulsing lights. Autofellatio themed jewelry displays gleamed with rings, pendants, and pins crafted in the eternal symbol of the Ouroboros, allowing its proud bearer to signal their allegiance to any who understood its profound meaning regarding this special form of self love.
I thoroughly checked out every captivating item, though for the moment, I settled for just a pair of crotchless shorts and a t-shirt proudly emblazoned with an Ouroboros design and the bold declaration, "Autofellatio Love”. I immediately slipped them on, embracing my new uniform, and feeling the delicious freedom of my cock swinging uninhibited, before me. A edited two hour video of the conclave’s most exquisite highlights, a visual feast to savor, could be purchased and downloaded onto a smartphone or tablet at the close of the conclave. Never had I witnessed such a cornucopia crafted solely for the autofellator. I couldn’t wait to return to the Boutique for even more horny souvenirs.
And something noteworthy… You could purchase a truly revolutionary autofellator's aid, a device never before seen on the modern market, which was inspired by the very mists of ancient lore. It evolved from a fascinating tale of what autofellators in ancient Egyptian sometimes wore, from a vivid passage unearthed from the novella, Autofellatio in the Temple of Atum. In that primal cult of self-love, all initiates adorned themselves with what they reverently called their "cum catchers”, delicate, cupped thong-like contraptions. The reason for such an ingenious design? Most devoted autofellators are in a near-constant state of hightened arousal leading to constant flows of luscious pre-cum and even full-blown orgasms. This incessant stream of sacred cream wants saving, harvested, to later serve the autofellator during later acts of engagement, such as anointment with one's own divine sperm, or the smearing of it to create an intoxicating, signature ‘scent of autofellatio’.
Their ancient cum catchers, made from the cup-like flowers of a vine found in the Nile Delta, hung from this leather strings wrapped around their waists. Devout autofellators would wear these throughout their daily activities. The little flowers gently cupped the heads of their cocks, gathering their sacred emissions. At Ouroboros Awakening, the cum catchers were crafted from a soft, silky, yet durable silicone membrane. These innovative devices were designed to fit comfortably over about four inches of the cock, and had a perfectly engineered sizable reservoir at the tip.
Many attendees, myself included, aware of our own tendency for dripping sperm, rushed to purchase these remarkable aids. I slipped mine on at once, feeling its snug, sensuous embrace. It was a revelation, a perfect blend of ancient wisdom and modern erotic engineering. "Waste not, want not," I murmured, appreciating the practical and profound implications. Every precious drop, now carefully collected, could be saved for those intense, solitary moments of anointment, for the self-pleasure that the gummies amplified, or for the shared, aromatic experiences within the conclave's lounges and private rooms.
Intimate Mini Theaters
Mini theaters were a particular delight, each with its padded floor, an invitation to surrender. Each could accommodate up to a dozen horny men at a time. Within, a continuous loop of erotic and explicit recordings of live autofellatio and futa animations played, heightened by a symphony of recorded sounds of autofellators grunting, moaning, slurping, and the unmistakable, raw sounds of sputter and splatter blowing, punctuated by chants, songs, and poetry focuses on our sacred practice. This chant still rings in my head over and over again, just the simple words: “autofelllatio selfsuck autofellating selfsucking autofellator selfsucker autofellates selfsucks”.
Autofellators could autofellate in these little theaters while simultaneously watching other autofellators autofellating, a potent mirror of desire. I found myself drawn into one of these intimate spaces, and very soon, in a true immersion of self-pleasure, I smeared cum on me that I’d saved in my cum catcher, and began sucking myself, and soon enjoying my very first autofellatio orgasm of the conclave—a profound, almost ceremonial self-consummation that echoed the intense, sustained pleasure I'd been seeking since my arrival.
We were not merely encouraged, but implored to heighten our autofellatio experiences by partaking of THC gummies. These potent little gems, a generous gift from local cannabis dispensaries which for some time had been catering to the desires of San Francisco's blossoming autofellatio community, were freely distributed on the conclave's inaugural day, and offered at specially reduced prices for the remainder of this erotic pilgrimage. Each small, vibrantly colored gummy was molded into an exquisite miniature figure of an autofellator, curled up in a sublime self-suckler’s X — a potent symbol and a delicious promise. Already soaring from an earlier dose, I wantonly accepted a free offering, feeling an almost immediate, intensified wave of horniness wash over me. It melted languidly on my tongue, dissolving into a warm, pervasive sensation of lust and unbridled desire that permeated my every cell. The world slowed, each moment stretching into an eternity of exquisite pleasure, leaving me utterly consumed by an aching, undeniable need to autofellate.
So many among us had indulged in the gummies, and the collective atmosphere shifted, deepening into a sensuous, dreamlike reverie, a shared exultation of pure sensuality. The air grew thick, humid with the musky, intoxicating scent of autofellators' sperm, that unmistakable aroma I'd come to recognize as the very essence of autofellatio. Everywhere I looked, autofellators moved through the conclave nude from the waist down, or wearing their newly acquired crotchless pants to shorts, their magnificent cocks bobbing and swaying with uninhibited freedom. Many proudly wore their new t-shirts, emblazoned with the eternal Ouroboros symbol and bold slogans of autofellatio, a visual testament to our shared devotion. Every single soul seemed to exist in a constant state of palpable arousal. Strings of pearlescent sperm oozed from engorged dicks, tracing glistening paths down thighs and legs. Some ingenious men had discovered the delicate, G-string-like cum catchers in the souvenir shops, wearing them wantonly to collect their precious, dripping discharge, reserving it for moments of heightened, personal ecstasy.
The Day’s Events
Digital bulletin boards, blazing with the day's menu of lustful events, shimmered throughout the venue, and soon, the autofellators, their eyes gleaming with anticipation, made their choices, eager to dive into the next wave of pleasure. The sheer abundance of choices was almost overwhelming, each promising a new, profound journey into the depths of self-love and carnal delight. What would you choose first?
Talks, Panels, Guest Appearances & Performers of Autofellatio!
• Autofellatio - Myth & Mystique, a panel discussion among experts.
• Autofellatio Obsession - Panel discussion.
• Don’t just suck yourself - Make Love! - Advice from a pro!
• Autofellators - Marry yourself - a commitment ceremony.
• The Myth & Lore of Autofellatio - Autofellatio historians tell their stories.
• Best Basic Practices for Autofellators - Class with demonstrations.
• Experienced Autofellators Wanting more.
• Advanced Autofellators Wanting more.
• Fun things to do with your Autofellatio Sperm - Tips from addicts.
• Enjoying Your Balls & Autofellatio - Demonstrations.
• Toys For Autofellators - See them up close.
• All Day Autofellatio - Good advice from the more obsessed.
• Deep Throat Autofellatio - the ultimate Autofellatio.
• Advanced Throat Work Autofellatio - Beyond the gag.
• How to involve partners in our Autofellatio sessions. Advice from the experienced.
• Art & Creative Practices for the Autofellator - Express yourself.
• Filming Your Autofellatio Sessions with sound.
• Recording Autofellatio-themed Sounds, Chants, & Songs - write your own.
• Enhancing Autofellatio with Sputter Blow & Splatter Blow - noisy messy fun!
• Pride in Being an Autofellator - Panel discussion.
• The Autofellatio Lifestyle - Panel discussion with the pros.
• Autofellatio Studio - we shoot & record you autofellating.
• Autofellators in the Golden Years - Panel discussion with mature autofellators.
• Autofellatio & the LGBTQA Community - how we fit in.
• Transfemme Autofellatio - Transfemme autofellators advise and discuss.
• Spreading the Word about Autofellatio! - Introduce our world to willing candidates.
Guest Star Appearances
• Al Eingang & Happyboy together on stage talking and showing.
• Lunluns, Transfemme Autofellator performing her act.
• IzzyGuy - deepthroat specialist - show and tell.
• Ashton Grey - deepthroat specialist, stage act.
• Rachael Pascual, Transfemme Autofellator, stage act.
• SatanicYoga - show and tell.
• Selfsuck Parker - demos self sucking and self fucking.
• Tannor Reed - stage act with a background of the sounds of Autofellatio.
• Jake Longitudo - deepthroat specialist, show and tell.
• A Special Stage Act with Atum & his Priests - Autofellatio in ancient Egypt.
• The Dangling Dick Twins - a musical dance act.
Special Events for the Closing Ceremony
• Contest for: Trophy for Best Autofellator.
• Contests for: Trophies for Autofellators with the Largest & Smallest Erect Cocks. Autotofellator with the longest hanging soft cock. Best autofellator among top five of largest erect cock contest.
• Contest for: Trophy for Best Deep Throat Autofellator. Best deep-throat autofellator among top five of largest hard cock contest.
• Election of and award for a Transfemme Autofellatio Queen.
• Election of and award for an Autofellatio King.
• Election of and award for a non-binary Autofellatio Quing.
Event Spaces
• An expansive lobby with space to hold all attendees & a small elevated stage.
• Mini Theaters w/ 12 autofellator capacity each.
• Theaters for larger gatherings of up to 60 autofellators.
• Autofellatio themed Souvenir Shops - 'Ouroboros' Gift Boutiques
• Small private rooms for 4 or less.
• Lounges for relaxation and socializing in between events.
• Meditation & massage spas.
• Food stands with light snacks and drinks.
• Restrooms, private lockers, and showers.
First Ever Convention for Autofellators!
Moderators: blacksunshineaz, Ziggurat
Re: First Ever Convention for Autofellators! Part 2
Ouroboros Awakening - the Inaugural Conclave - Part 2
Workshops & Demonstrations
Even instructors, the guiding lights of this erotic symposium, partook of the potent gummies, their demonstrations transcending mere technique. These were performances, sensuous, uninhibited dances of flesh and unbridled desire. As captivated members of the audience watched these spellbinding shows, many found themselves utterly unable to resist the primal urge to suck themselves, as their cocks met their own mouths in a mirrored act of self devotion. Workshops, designed to accommodate a dozen autofellators at a time, offered an intimate vantage point to the stage, where instructors, sometimes so utterly lost in the throes of self-love, would momentarily forget their tutorial duties. During one particularly passionate deepthroat demonstration, for instance, the sheer intensity of the performance eclipsed all else. Approaching his climax, the instructor grunted loudly and spurted voluminous gushers of cum. He then blew as hard as he possibly could, and splattered his hot, creamy load everywhere. He was absolutely covered and dripping!
Another demonstration was commanded by a particularly long-dicked guy, and the very Snake I had earlier pleasured with in one of the private rooms. He was, as I'd discovered, a supremely experienced autofellator. His movements were slow, graceful, deliberate, each gesture a tender tease to his engorged cock and to his expectant audience. His voice a soothing, melodic balm. "Deepthroat autofellatio," he intoned, his eyes meeting each of ours with intimate understanding, "is a dance of relaxation and profound control. It's about surrendering to the exquisite pleasure, about letting your body—your magnificent, desirous body—guide you to the very edge of sensation, and then beyond." He continued, his words a sensual caress, "When you achieve that delicious comfort, deep within your throat, you unlock the unparalleled pleasures of massaging your cock with those eager muscles. You can elevate deepthroat autofellatio to an entirely new plane by rhythmically jerking the muscles at the base of your cock, gently fucking your throat as your throat performs its own unique magic. It's a complex, yet utterly fulfilling dance of fucking, sucking, deep relaxation, and flexing desire."
The elevation from the gummies which was still coursing through me and my fellow devotees, amplified every touch, every sensation, exponentially multiplying pleasure and fun. Self-suckers found themselves profoundly more attuned to their autofellatio, able to focus with an unprecedented intensity on the act, discovering new, uncharted roads to pleasure. The air in the room, already thick, now wafted even more heavily with the musky, intoxicating scent of autofellatio sperm—that signature aroma that had become synonymous with this sacred gathering. We were all mesmerized, transfixed in the moment, our collective lust magnified, aching even more deeply for the very thing that bound us all. I felt an undeniable urge to autofellate after every single event; it became a ritual. I would find a secluded spot, unroll my padded mat, and lose myself in self-sucking again and again, each climax a renewed pledge to my Ouroboros.
Making New Friends
Meeting Ruby
From the very first moment I saw her, I had been utterly captivated, unable to tear my gaze away. Standing just a few feet distant, Ruby was a stunning, slender transfemme, nearly six feet tall, dressed simply in a tank top and tight capris that accentuated her lovely lithe form. Her small, exquisitely pointed titties, visibly estrogen-enhanced rather than surgically altered, were a subtle invitation. We were immersed in the throng, listening to the opening speaker, when she noticed my unwavering stare. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as her eyes dropped, boldly acknowledging the undeniable arousal between my legs. Moving closer, my voice a anxious murmur, I introduced myself: "Hi, I'm Eddie, and you?" Her reply, a silken promise: “I’m Ruby. So happy to meet you." We flirted with electric intensity for a delicious few minutes, culminating in an embrace that sent shivers of pure lust through me. As our bodies pressed together, our cocks, now both exquisitely hard, brushed and caressed, an undeniable declaration of mutual desire. Though I yearned to remain fused to her, the conclave’s myriad of temptations—the explicit demonstrations, the potent gummies, the pervasive scent of cum—beckoned, promising further adventures in self-knowledge and shared eroticism.
Small, private rooms, each a sanctuary of padded floors, sound systems, and media screens, offered an intimate haven for up to four autofellators, or for the solitary soul seeking unadulterated self-pleasure. Many new connections, forged in the crucible of shared obsession, deepened within these erotic cocoons, where friends indulged in mutual autofellatio delights. Ruby and I were drawn into one such room, and alone here in this private little chamber, we moved in a perfect, sensual synchronization, exploring and admiring each other's attributes with a shared hunger. Her magnificent ten-inch hose, a vision of taut desire, proved utterly irresistible, and we soon drifted into a divine 69, our mouths and cocks entwined, before curling up into our own profoundly connected acts of autofellatio.
On With the Show
Intimate little theaters, with padded floors which invited surrender, offered a compelling stage for individual displays of autofellatio prowess. A small, raised platform beckoned in a spotlight for any who dared to showcase their limber skills. The air within these chambers hummed with a constant state of arousal, and many a magnificent dick spurted copious, glistening amounts of sperm. Some, like myself, found it impossible to swallow every wanton squirt, and just like them, I would shoot or carefully wipe the excess upon me, anointing myself with the musky perfume of autofellatio—a scent I had come to cherish as my signature. The atmosphere was absolutely electric, a palpable current of lust that crackled between every aroused body! Autofellatio-themed chants, guttural noises of pleasure, and intoxicating songs pulsed over the sound system—familiar anthems that served as an irresistible call to autofellate, a siren song of self-love. And here, in this moment of heightened desire, I recall one of the particularly horny anthems that caught my attention:
An Autofellator’s Love Song…
I woke up this morning, before the sun did arise,
And felt a familiar need growing between my thighs.
I didn't need caffeine nor much to eat,
But the scent of sweet nectar, my own creamy treat.
Folding slowly into a well-rehearsed design,
I got my horny mouth around that lovely hose of mine.
The taste of my own jizz, spermy and so sweet,
A promise that I know that I wish to always keep.
It’s not just for swallowing my thick and pearly cream,
But my morning baptism , and fulfillment of a dream.
I'm an autofellator, that’s me, and this is what I always do.
I love autofellatio, the whole day through and through.
The first load is my thickest - creamy, potent and hot,
Shooting deep inside me, each wanton spurting shot.
The second load’s for worship, a divine kind of grace
And I pull out just before shooting upon my eager face.
A hot and sticky facial, a mask of pure delight
I smear my blessed sperm, I’m really quite a sight.
The smell of sweet sperm, so musky, cummy, raw,
It's the only rule I live by, my one and only law!
Not just for swallowing my thick and pearly cream,
But a morning baptism, the fulfillment of a dream.
I'm an autofellator, darling me, and this is what I love to do.
I smell of autofellatio, the whole day through and through.
Anoint my chest and shoulders, and wipe it through my hair,
My creamy cum is my perfume, a scent without compare.
Some men just reek of scents, spices or musk,
I'll smell of my own jizz from sunrise until the dusk.
A proof of my devotion, a trophy for loving me,
The sweet essence of my own so horny lustful glee.
I’m ready for the daytime, all in so very deep,
When many among us may remain in somber sleep.
Might they catch only a whiff of something nicely real,
My primal scent of pleasure, I’ve nothing to conceal.
It’s the smell of my obsession, my pleasure and my sin,
So I’ll start again tomorrow and love me over and over again.
The feeling of my sperm drying sticky on my skin,
Such a beautiful obsession, such a lovely sin!
Not just for swallowing, my thick and pearly cream,
It's my morning baptism and fulfillment of my dream.
I'm an autofellator, that’s me…his is what I have to do.
I will love autofellatio my whole life through and through!
The hypnotic song of self-indulgence, swept me up in a reverie, only amplified by the tasty gummies and the profound realization that I was, at long last, among my kind, my people. As dusk began to paint the sky, I returned to an Ouroborous Boutique, my hunger for more erotic treasures unsated, and found new acquisitions: a poster illustrating a bacchanalian party of futa autofellators, a softball-sized, translucent pink glow-in-the-dark sculpture of an autofellator contorted into the X-position, a soft silicone ball & cock ring, more t-shirts and crotchless pants adorned with patterns of silhouetted autofellators, and a trove of downloadable autofellatio-themed audio recordings. These, my precious new treasures, would be savored at a private, exquisitely personal party later that night.
As the first day of horny happenings neared its sensual conclusion, the conclave’s participants gathered in the lobby for Clyde’s closing address. Large screens around the walls flickered with tantalizing clips of autofellators "doing their thing"—a visual feast of deepthroating, messy orgasms, and uninhibited self-sucking that resonated deeply with my earlier observations. "What an utterly magnificent day it has been for us, autofellators all," Clyde’s voice boomed, "thanks to every single one of you, our dedicated volunteers, and our tireless staff! Cum back tomorrow, and we promise to take you even higher… countless exquisite surprises await!" As his magnificent eleven-inch meat swayed provocatively before him, he concluded with a knowing smile: "So, go forth, have boundless fun, suck yourselves to your heart's content, and forever cherish the memories of today!"
Some paired off, others coalesced into eager groups, venturing out onto the town, back to their homes, or retreating to the discreet privacy of hotel rooms. Yet, wherever they went, a pervasive horniness, a lingering hum from the day’s electric excitement, remained. They were far from finished with autofellatio. It was a balmy, seductive evening, and many autofellators gravitated towards the parks near the Embarcadero or in other parts of the city, unabashedly blowing themselves on benches or on soft grass lawns. Even casual passersby, drawn by the raw, uninhibited spectacle, found themselves captivated, unable to tear their eyes from the beautiful, pulsing sight of hung, horny autofellators lost in the throes of self-pleasure.
I, too, departed for home, a potent wave of horniness surging through me, my anticipation for the prospect of playing with my autofellatious souvenirs almost unbearable. My party, a celebration of me, myself, and I, awaited! My Uber driver, spotting my "Don't Outsource - Autofellate!" t-shirt, offered a chuckle. "That's nice… wish I could!" "Work on it!" I encouraged, drawing upon the collective wisdom shared within the conclave, and showed him a couple of popular online blogs, explaining how to approach it with the flexibility and determination I'd seen. "Just go slowly, keep at it, and self-love will blossom." "Thanks," his voice genuinely sincere, "I'm already hard just thinking about it!"
Home at last! I stripped naked, took a nother gummy—feeling the familiar, delicious rush—and arranged all my new souvenirs on the table, creating a personal altar to self-pleasure. Syncing the autofellatio audio recordings to my sound system, the erotic chants and pulsing background music quickly filled the room, establishing a sacred ambiance. I then synced a video to my large-screen TV, dimmed the lights, and watched as the little pink autofellator sculpture, curled in its perfect X-position, began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. Next, I lubed the vibrating, talking butt plug (a new toy for expanding my self-pleasure, and pushed it home, feeling its gentle throbbing. It had a horny mechanical voice recording, softly chanting, “self suck, self suck, self suck”, over and over again while I sucked myself. I began to fuck my mouth, deepthroating, and sputter-blowing as loudly as possible, completely losing myself. After sucking, cumming, and blowing hot, sticky jizz all over myself for at least two hours, I finally succumbed to exhaustion, drifting into sleep, my last conscious thought a fervent wish that the next day could not come soon enough. Such a perfect, self-indulgent party!
Stay tuned for Ouroboros Awakening Part 3
Workshops & Demonstrations
Even instructors, the guiding lights of this erotic symposium, partook of the potent gummies, their demonstrations transcending mere technique. These were performances, sensuous, uninhibited dances of flesh and unbridled desire. As captivated members of the audience watched these spellbinding shows, many found themselves utterly unable to resist the primal urge to suck themselves, as their cocks met their own mouths in a mirrored act of self devotion. Workshops, designed to accommodate a dozen autofellators at a time, offered an intimate vantage point to the stage, where instructors, sometimes so utterly lost in the throes of self-love, would momentarily forget their tutorial duties. During one particularly passionate deepthroat demonstration, for instance, the sheer intensity of the performance eclipsed all else. Approaching his climax, the instructor grunted loudly and spurted voluminous gushers of cum. He then blew as hard as he possibly could, and splattered his hot, creamy load everywhere. He was absolutely covered and dripping!
Another demonstration was commanded by a particularly long-dicked guy, and the very Snake I had earlier pleasured with in one of the private rooms. He was, as I'd discovered, a supremely experienced autofellator. His movements were slow, graceful, deliberate, each gesture a tender tease to his engorged cock and to his expectant audience. His voice a soothing, melodic balm. "Deepthroat autofellatio," he intoned, his eyes meeting each of ours with intimate understanding, "is a dance of relaxation and profound control. It's about surrendering to the exquisite pleasure, about letting your body—your magnificent, desirous body—guide you to the very edge of sensation, and then beyond." He continued, his words a sensual caress, "When you achieve that delicious comfort, deep within your throat, you unlock the unparalleled pleasures of massaging your cock with those eager muscles. You can elevate deepthroat autofellatio to an entirely new plane by rhythmically jerking the muscles at the base of your cock, gently fucking your throat as your throat performs its own unique magic. It's a complex, yet utterly fulfilling dance of fucking, sucking, deep relaxation, and flexing desire."
The elevation from the gummies which was still coursing through me and my fellow devotees, amplified every touch, every sensation, exponentially multiplying pleasure and fun. Self-suckers found themselves profoundly more attuned to their autofellatio, able to focus with an unprecedented intensity on the act, discovering new, uncharted roads to pleasure. The air in the room, already thick, now wafted even more heavily with the musky, intoxicating scent of autofellatio sperm—that signature aroma that had become synonymous with this sacred gathering. We were all mesmerized, transfixed in the moment, our collective lust magnified, aching even more deeply for the very thing that bound us all. I felt an undeniable urge to autofellate after every single event; it became a ritual. I would find a secluded spot, unroll my padded mat, and lose myself in self-sucking again and again, each climax a renewed pledge to my Ouroboros.
Making New Friends
Meeting Ruby
From the very first moment I saw her, I had been utterly captivated, unable to tear my gaze away. Standing just a few feet distant, Ruby was a stunning, slender transfemme, nearly six feet tall, dressed simply in a tank top and tight capris that accentuated her lovely lithe form. Her small, exquisitely pointed titties, visibly estrogen-enhanced rather than surgically altered, were a subtle invitation. We were immersed in the throng, listening to the opening speaker, when she noticed my unwavering stare. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as her eyes dropped, boldly acknowledging the undeniable arousal between my legs. Moving closer, my voice a anxious murmur, I introduced myself: "Hi, I'm Eddie, and you?" Her reply, a silken promise: “I’m Ruby. So happy to meet you." We flirted with electric intensity for a delicious few minutes, culminating in an embrace that sent shivers of pure lust through me. As our bodies pressed together, our cocks, now both exquisitely hard, brushed and caressed, an undeniable declaration of mutual desire. Though I yearned to remain fused to her, the conclave’s myriad of temptations—the explicit demonstrations, the potent gummies, the pervasive scent of cum—beckoned, promising further adventures in self-knowledge and shared eroticism.
Small, private rooms, each a sanctuary of padded floors, sound systems, and media screens, offered an intimate haven for up to four autofellators, or for the solitary soul seeking unadulterated self-pleasure. Many new connections, forged in the crucible of shared obsession, deepened within these erotic cocoons, where friends indulged in mutual autofellatio delights. Ruby and I were drawn into one such room, and alone here in this private little chamber, we moved in a perfect, sensual synchronization, exploring and admiring each other's attributes with a shared hunger. Her magnificent ten-inch hose, a vision of taut desire, proved utterly irresistible, and we soon drifted into a divine 69, our mouths and cocks entwined, before curling up into our own profoundly connected acts of autofellatio.
On With the Show
Intimate little theaters, with padded floors which invited surrender, offered a compelling stage for individual displays of autofellatio prowess. A small, raised platform beckoned in a spotlight for any who dared to showcase their limber skills. The air within these chambers hummed with a constant state of arousal, and many a magnificent dick spurted copious, glistening amounts of sperm. Some, like myself, found it impossible to swallow every wanton squirt, and just like them, I would shoot or carefully wipe the excess upon me, anointing myself with the musky perfume of autofellatio—a scent I had come to cherish as my signature. The atmosphere was absolutely electric, a palpable current of lust that crackled between every aroused body! Autofellatio-themed chants, guttural noises of pleasure, and intoxicating songs pulsed over the sound system—familiar anthems that served as an irresistible call to autofellate, a siren song of self-love. And here, in this moment of heightened desire, I recall one of the particularly horny anthems that caught my attention:
An Autofellator’s Love Song…
I woke up this morning, before the sun did arise,
And felt a familiar need growing between my thighs.
I didn't need caffeine nor much to eat,
But the scent of sweet nectar, my own creamy treat.
Folding slowly into a well-rehearsed design,
I got my horny mouth around that lovely hose of mine.
The taste of my own jizz, spermy and so sweet,
A promise that I know that I wish to always keep.
It’s not just for swallowing my thick and pearly cream,
But my morning baptism , and fulfillment of a dream.
I'm an autofellator, that’s me, and this is what I always do.
I love autofellatio, the whole day through and through.
The first load is my thickest - creamy, potent and hot,
Shooting deep inside me, each wanton spurting shot.
The second load’s for worship, a divine kind of grace
And I pull out just before shooting upon my eager face.
A hot and sticky facial, a mask of pure delight
I smear my blessed sperm, I’m really quite a sight.
The smell of sweet sperm, so musky, cummy, raw,
It's the only rule I live by, my one and only law!
Not just for swallowing my thick and pearly cream,
But a morning baptism, the fulfillment of a dream.
I'm an autofellator, darling me, and this is what I love to do.
I smell of autofellatio, the whole day through and through.
Anoint my chest and shoulders, and wipe it through my hair,
My creamy cum is my perfume, a scent without compare.
Some men just reek of scents, spices or musk,
I'll smell of my own jizz from sunrise until the dusk.
A proof of my devotion, a trophy for loving me,
The sweet essence of my own so horny lustful glee.
I’m ready for the daytime, all in so very deep,
When many among us may remain in somber sleep.
Might they catch only a whiff of something nicely real,
My primal scent of pleasure, I’ve nothing to conceal.
It’s the smell of my obsession, my pleasure and my sin,
So I’ll start again tomorrow and love me over and over again.
The feeling of my sperm drying sticky on my skin,
Such a beautiful obsession, such a lovely sin!
Not just for swallowing, my thick and pearly cream,
It's my morning baptism and fulfillment of my dream.
I'm an autofellator, that’s me…his is what I have to do.
I will love autofellatio my whole life through and through!
The hypnotic song of self-indulgence, swept me up in a reverie, only amplified by the tasty gummies and the profound realization that I was, at long last, among my kind, my people. As dusk began to paint the sky, I returned to an Ouroborous Boutique, my hunger for more erotic treasures unsated, and found new acquisitions: a poster illustrating a bacchanalian party of futa autofellators, a softball-sized, translucent pink glow-in-the-dark sculpture of an autofellator contorted into the X-position, a soft silicone ball & cock ring, more t-shirts and crotchless pants adorned with patterns of silhouetted autofellators, and a trove of downloadable autofellatio-themed audio recordings. These, my precious new treasures, would be savored at a private, exquisitely personal party later that night.
As the first day of horny happenings neared its sensual conclusion, the conclave’s participants gathered in the lobby for Clyde’s closing address. Large screens around the walls flickered with tantalizing clips of autofellators "doing their thing"—a visual feast of deepthroating, messy orgasms, and uninhibited self-sucking that resonated deeply with my earlier observations. "What an utterly magnificent day it has been for us, autofellators all," Clyde’s voice boomed, "thanks to every single one of you, our dedicated volunteers, and our tireless staff! Cum back tomorrow, and we promise to take you even higher… countless exquisite surprises await!" As his magnificent eleven-inch meat swayed provocatively before him, he concluded with a knowing smile: "So, go forth, have boundless fun, suck yourselves to your heart's content, and forever cherish the memories of today!"
Some paired off, others coalesced into eager groups, venturing out onto the town, back to their homes, or retreating to the discreet privacy of hotel rooms. Yet, wherever they went, a pervasive horniness, a lingering hum from the day’s electric excitement, remained. They were far from finished with autofellatio. It was a balmy, seductive evening, and many autofellators gravitated towards the parks near the Embarcadero or in other parts of the city, unabashedly blowing themselves on benches or on soft grass lawns. Even casual passersby, drawn by the raw, uninhibited spectacle, found themselves captivated, unable to tear their eyes from the beautiful, pulsing sight of hung, horny autofellators lost in the throes of self-pleasure.
I, too, departed for home, a potent wave of horniness surging through me, my anticipation for the prospect of playing with my autofellatious souvenirs almost unbearable. My party, a celebration of me, myself, and I, awaited! My Uber driver, spotting my "Don't Outsource - Autofellate!" t-shirt, offered a chuckle. "That's nice… wish I could!" "Work on it!" I encouraged, drawing upon the collective wisdom shared within the conclave, and showed him a couple of popular online blogs, explaining how to approach it with the flexibility and determination I'd seen. "Just go slowly, keep at it, and self-love will blossom." "Thanks," his voice genuinely sincere, "I'm already hard just thinking about it!"
Home at last! I stripped naked, took a nother gummy—feeling the familiar, delicious rush—and arranged all my new souvenirs on the table, creating a personal altar to self-pleasure. Syncing the autofellatio audio recordings to my sound system, the erotic chants and pulsing background music quickly filled the room, establishing a sacred ambiance. I then synced a video to my large-screen TV, dimmed the lights, and watched as the little pink autofellator sculpture, curled in its perfect X-position, began to glow with a soft, ethereal light. Next, I lubed the vibrating, talking butt plug (a new toy for expanding my self-pleasure, and pushed it home, feeling its gentle throbbing. It had a horny mechanical voice recording, softly chanting, “self suck, self suck, self suck”, over and over again while I sucked myself. I began to fuck my mouth, deepthroating, and sputter-blowing as loudly as possible, completely losing myself. After sucking, cumming, and blowing hot, sticky jizz all over myself for at least two hours, I finally succumbed to exhaustion, drifting into sleep, my last conscious thought a fervent wish that the next day could not come soon enough. Such a perfect, self-indulgent party!
Stay tuned for Ouroboros Awakening Part 3
