I have to say I gave it a damn good shot, but also fell short of my goals. Perhaps if I had some coaching, and the necessary time to practice I could have done it, but working on my own I fell short. I traveled on my own some three towns away to where the competition was held and was sitting in the locker room trying to not openly cry over my failure. I disqualified in two of the three events I'd competed and was quite dejected to say the least. Most of the people had cleared out and I was alone waiting to take my shower before getting dressed to leave. Someone came into the locker room and I could hear him opening and closing lockers around the corner from where I was sitting, he walked past and glanced at me sitting in the corner but said nothing as our eyes met briefly. Pulling myself together I finally opened my locker and pulled out my towel and headed to the showers. An older guy who appeared seemingly from nowhere and walked into the shower area as well, we. Why then did I feel so underwhelmed? The grim reality of the various pains inflicted upon me began to reimpose themselves.I could feel the pain on my chest from the relentless sucking, the burning in my lungs from a shortage of air. I could feel the muscles and tendons in my legs that seemed to be like molten white wires searing my flesh.I began to feel the subjective reality of the pain in my behind, pierced by a seemly agonisingly hard and relentless dildo that felt like it was ripping me open and stabbing into soft interior parts of me simultaneously. I really wanted to get that painful thing out of me, but I couldn't.I could feel something wet and cold running down the inside of my legs: blood, cum, slime, I had no idea. A feeling that I had violated and humiliated myself for nothing made my spirits sink.Worst of all though, was the feeling that I wanted more, much more than my body could endure. It was as if my desire for orgasms was unsated and far exceeded my puny physical.
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