Stories that Made My Ex C*m by Roksontherocks


A pleasure triggering read

It was a regular thing between us, discussing my sex life highlights and the thrilling experiments I’d come up with.

He knew just how passionate it could make me feel.

Most of the time, I was prepared to tell him what latest cum-filled adventure I’d gone on, and he, of course, was always there to appreciate my stories.

Our conversations, tinged with a unique blend of honesty and intimacy, turned into our secret ritual, a dialogue that unfailingly lit a spark of desire within us both.

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Excerpt from Stories that Made My Ex C*m © Copyright 2023 Roksontherocks


Dear reader,

Congrats on reaching out for this book! It’s a proof of your boldness and interest in the unknown, and it is a choice you will not regret making. From the first sentence to the last full stop, the stories in this book will get you all hot and bothered in no time.

I’d like for my book to become your safe space for all sorts of fantasies: from the most modest ones to the impossibly perverse. I believe that tabooing our sexual fantasies is to our sexual identity what suppressing our emotions is to our psyche: dangerous. Besides, aren’t these fantasies closely linked to emotions anyway?

Pro tip: sit back, relax and help yourself to a slice of this juicy work of art I’ve put up just for you. You’d better read it from start to finish. Every single word is a thought I’ve had which I dreamed of sharing with a large audience. I should warn you, though: the stories you are about to read might come off as shocking or over the top. Still, you have nothing to worry about. The stories are simply a product of my vivid imagination.

At least, most of them are. It’s up to you to figure out which ones.

You can of course try to guess whether some of my stories were inspired by my experiences.

Here’s a spoiler: you might never guess correctly.

1. Coffee Time

To anyone else it might seem sort of weird, but I didn’t care.  I'd been avoiding him for months now, but to my ex it didn’t really matter that we weren’t in a relationship anymore—he still wanted me, wanted to hear what nasty things I’d been up to.

Moving on completely from him and starting something new sounded like the smart thing to do, but common sense tended to elude me now and then. Not that I was complaining, though—what was life without some dirty fun?

It was a regular thing between us, discussing my sex life highlights and the thrilling experiments I’d come up with. He knew just how passionate it could make me feel. Most of the time, I was prepared to tell him what latest cum-filled adventure I’d gone on, and he, of course, was always there to appreciate my stories. Sometimes I found myself sending a naughty picture or texting him first, because I couldn’t wait for him to reach out. Other times he reached out himself.

Like now.

“My day was pretty dry,” my ex said, sounding almost impatient, like he was hoping I could bring up some ‘wetness’ in him. “What about yours?”

I’d just gotten settled in bed after dinner that night and had been about to turn off the lights when my phone rang. He said he simply wanted to talk, but we both knew that was just a way of saying he was horny and needed some jerk-off material. The longer I was on the phone, the huskier his voice got. It wouldn’t take a genius to tell his dick must be standing at attention right now. If I had to guess, I’d say he was eager for one of my stories.

At least, his dick was.

“It was okay,” I replied, absentmindedly toying with my curls. “I did some laundry, spoke to the client, and went to the gym this afternoon. I’ve had better days, but at least I had some time to relax.”

“With a voice like yours, you should’ve pursued a much different career.” His voice had a slight tremor to it and I could tell maintaining his composure was proving difficult.

I let out a giggle. “I’m doing just fine. Besides, I doubt we’d meet otherwise.”

But something had clicked in my head. His words got me thinking about it, how cool it would be to make all kinds of dicks and guys weak with nothing but short phone calls, without having to leave the convenience of my home. I was practically salivating at the thought of how sexy and powerful that would feel.

Not to mention liberating—no morning catch-ups, no weekly meetings, no monthly reports…none of that bullshit. Just pure lust and throbbing dicks on the other end of the line, their owners shivering at the opportunity to hear my voice. My mind easily honed in on the tiniest details: the colours of their dicks, their shapes, how swollen their balls would be, how much cum churned in them, waiting to be let out, just for me.

“It’s too bad you’re not here with me right now, babe” my ex said after a moment’s silence, sounding more disappointed than his words suggested. He cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you tell me a story about something you did lately? I’m sure you would’ve come up with something new and interesting by now.”

I could picture him already, lying in bed with his cock in hand, waiting for me to tell him my story so he could stroke it and empty his balls. The mere thought made me smile. I was more than happy to help.

I bit my lower lip. “Well…there was a certain coffee experiment I tried out some time ago—”

“I wanna hear it.”

Of course he did, the fucking sex-crazed fiend. And of course, I was ready to share tonight.

“I’m sure you do,” I cooed. “Lie down, make sure you’re comfortable, and enjoy…”

I pressed my lips together, feeling my pussy grow wetter by the second, my clit throbbing as the details of that steamy event became clearer in my memory.

This was going to be one hell of a story.

“Okay, so a couple of weeks back my Tinder date came home with me, and then of course we had a couple of drinks, after which he pounded my pussy until I almost fainted against the kitchen counter covered in his slimy seed. But that’s not even the juiciest part, pun intended. See, by the time he woke up naked in my bedroom, I was sitting at my table, enjoying the view and my morning coffee.”

“Yeah?” my ex said. A series of wet sounds in the background filled my head with a sudden nasty image and a smile tugged at my lips. He was really making sure he enjoyed every moment of this. “Well, what happened next?”

“I couldn’t take my eyes off that impressive erection of his, and the moment he caught me staring at him I put my feet on it and started to caress him, I just kept my feet on his pulsing cock like it was my brand new glass table—fragile as fuck, but also pretty valuable and worth the experience.”


“I saw my chance. Locking my eyes on his boner, I moved closer and stuck my pinkie on his cock head, then slid my fingers into my mouth to get a taste of his fresh precum. Surprisingly enough, he started cumming, ropes of his spunk trailing all the way down his dick to his big, hairy balls.”

“How did it taste?”

“Sharp and sweet at the same time, babe,’’ I told him, trying not to focus on the moist patch forming in my panties. “I started stroking his cock with my free hand, spitting on it to make it even slimier, and then… I put my coffee mug in place so he could add some creamy flavour to my coffee. The foam mixed with some fresh ropes of cum, which made it look even more appetizing. I couldn’t resist trying it. Took a sip and…damn, it  tasted amazing.”

“Coffee and cum?” my ex panted. “You’re blowing my mind.”

“I think I’d rather be blowing some other part of you,” I replied with a put. “Anyway, I could tell he was trying not to show how much he was enjoying it, so I just smirked at him and proceeded to play at his game. I took a few more sips of that delicious cum-flavoured coffee, reaching for my phone to scroll through my Instagram feed like nothing was going on, trying to ignore the urge to make him cum yet again and stick my finger in that big, deep home. I set the cup down and smacked my lips.”

“Good stuff.”

“That’s what I told myself,” I said, laughing. My voice went low and seductive in a heartbeat.

“And you’re welcome, by the way.”

As if on cue, my ex's breathing grew even harsher. The background moans spoke for themselves.

I reached towards the bedside table and sipped on a coffee mug, unable to stop my satisfaction rising. Perhaps, getting aroused by the story was the best way to express his gratitude to me.

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