Black Gooning Couple 04 end
Completely consumed
It was finally time for their trip. Aisha had prepared herself with a toolkit to survive the airport journey. At this point, she had devoted herself to porn fully, with a sense of permanence. Her phone was covered with a privacy screen—not for work emails or family photos, but because it was filled entirely with porn. Slowly, piece by piece, she had buried everything else. Even Marcus was secondary in her phone now.
Marcus had gotten used to the fact that when he saw his wife, porn wasn't too far behind her. Either she was openly moaning, there was a tablet playing porn randomly, or she just scrolling porn and touching herself to pass the time.
Admittedly, at this point, watching her live in porn addicted bliss was his preferred porn to watch now. He loves what porn has done to her. She smiles more, she's happy, and her pussy is always wet and ready. As long as she can watch, she's basically become free use in the household.
Their house had become a shrine: porn playing 24/7, moans echoing constantly. Marcus adapted to her rituals. She demanded he scroll porn at the dinner table. She required porn running on a separate screen while they watched movies. She had stopped caring about orgasms entirely; now her mission was edging, denying release, and deleting the climax from her life altogether. She wanted the feeling of always horny. Always wet. Forever needy and high with arousal.
Marcus really didn't think she would go this far, but it's been about three weeks since she has had an orgasm. It has made her more open, more insatiable, more sexy. He loves to tease her. Randomly sending her porn to her phone, gifting her porn subscriptions for her to edge to. He's even taken over some of the housework so she can masturbate more.
In turn, Aisha had slowly started pushing her boundaries outside the home. She drove to work with porn blasting over Bluetooth, edged in her car at lunch, and slipped away in bathroom stalls just to scroll and touch herself. This is now a daily occurrence and her co-workers are none the wiser. They did notice she was much more upbeat and relaxed. Things that would usually frazzle her just faded away with confidence as she methodically solved the problem. She knew she could sneak off and masturbate later. Porn kept her going.
Now it was time for their vacation. Marcus surprised her with a gift before they left. It was a brand new laptop, sleek and clean.
A note taped on top: “Fill it with porn.”
Aisha smiled, her heart racing. This would be her lifeline, her tether to her all consuming porn obsession while they were away.
Over the next few weeks, she diligently customized this laptop to be a mobile shrine of pleasure and perversion. Marcus always knew she had an artistic touch, and in her own way, she has turned porn into an artistically depraved canvas.
The laptop was christened with a new custom wallpaper almost immediately. All browser tabs were imported, most of her best porn was downloaded, a vpn installed, and updates are go.
She was satisfied that she had everything she needed to survive the trip. Going without porn was no longer an option. Porn instead became here. She had the love and support of her husband to be unhingd and depraved. It's all she talked about now. Marcus didn't mind at all. Marcus's wildest dreams were coming true right before his eyes.
The big day arrived. Marcus asked if she was ready. She had a devilish grin and her hand was down her sweat pants touching her uncummed pussy. It's a habit she picked up now. Just walking around with her hand on her pussy unless she was out where someone would notice. She even fell asleep like this. Marcus doesn't recall the last time his wife wasn't masturbating in front of him.
As soon as Marcus put their luggage away in the Uber, Aisha quietly and slowly slipped her sweatpants down to her ankles. It was easier to masturbate that way. Marcus maintained the ruse and kept the driver busy with conversation, Aisha scrolled and quietly masturbated in traffic as they navigated the city streets leading to the airport. Occasionally she would stroke Marcus's visible erection through his shorts. They both looked out the windows to see if other drivers noticed. They were all fully oblivious to her overt but discreet perversion.
As they unloaded the car at the airport, Aisha quietly guided her sweatpants up to her hips again. All the while, her earbuds piped porn audio nonstop, her phone glowing with endless scrolls behind the privacy screen. And next to her was a husband who loved her and loved her porn addiction.
They checked in with plenty of free time. Aisha was anxious and wanted to touch herself so she decided to slip away for a few minutes and edge in the airport bathroom. She took that opportunity to get fully nude for a few minutes with porn before dressing again. She just needed a quick taste of freedom before boarding.
On the plane, she scrolled her phone whenever no one was looking, lips parted, chest rising and falling as she stayed on the edge. She rocked her hips slowly in her seat and squeezed her legs. This gave her just enough stimulation without touching.
On a few occasions Marcus has to squeeze her thigh so she wouldn't be too obvious. She was starting to hump. It had been nearly a month since she had a 'normal' orgasm as she called them and it was obvious. She has a calm but clearly glazed over look in her eye as her thoughts kept wandering to the wet throbbing mess of a pussy between her legs. She was addicted to the feeling now.
Lost in her goonette trance, Aisha was a vision of raw desperation. Her thighs trembling, her body wracked by overstimulation from endless edging. Her breaths were jagged, eyes unfocused, consumed by the throbbing need that defined her now.
Marcus loved seeing her ruined orgasms now. A subtle, stuttering convulsion, her hips jerking into a hollow spasm that promised release but delivered only a sharp, gnawing ache, far from the shattering climaxes of their past life together. They were little rewards for not cumming. Her body was telling her to keep going.
She paused, a choked whimper slipping free, her body still pulsing with unquenched heat. Undeterred, she kept squeezing her legs together. All of her thoughts converging to her swollen, hypersensitive core. Her addiction to the edge pulled her deeper. It's altered her sexual triggers. Her brain permanently rewired by porn.
The only difference now was that Aisha was on a plane. Right on the edge of being found out. She didn't have a good ruin this morning, and Marcus knew she was overdue. “You should probably take care of yourself before we take off,” he teased. Aisha nodded, a small moan under her breath.
She sneaked away to the bathroom, locking the door to touch herself frantically while porn played softly in her earbuds. Two fingers dove vigorously into her wet needy intimate space. Her pussy was her source of her pleasure. Her source of everything. It was once a space of sadness. Barely touched. Barely acknowledged. She thought it was broken. Once she reunited with her clit, her pussy had become her sole purpose of existence. Her porn addiction made her whole.
Because she had been on edge for so long, she was able to bring herself to that blissful orgasm free denial quickly. She smiled, freshened up, checked her porn audio playlist, and walked back to her husband. She made sure to touch his dick as she scooted by him to sit down again.
The woman was glowing because of her porn addiction.
They made it to their destination without much incident. Aisha was able to listen to porn the whole time. The privacy screen made it easy to scroll porn on the plane. She even was able to touch Marcus through his shorts when no one was looking.
Stepping out of the airport and into the warm sun, they took in the sights of their destination. The ocean breeze...the vacation vibes...all meaningless to her. The first words out of her mouth were, “Let’s check in. Now. I need to watch more porn.”
Aisha practically dragged Marcus to the hotel room. The moment the door closed, Aisha tore her clothes off and climbed onto the bed, naked, doggie style, her laptop running and blasting porn loudly. She looked back at Marcus with glazed eyes, her voice trembling and needy. “Please fuck me. I want to watch.” She said it in her ‘please’ voice—the one Marcus couldn’t resist.
He stripped and moved behind her, sliding into her, slow and steady. Her eyes never left the screen, the sounds of porn mixing with the rhythm of his thrusts. She chanted, over and over,
“I love my porn addiction.
I love my porn addiction.
I love my porn addiction.”
Each word was a moan, a confession, a prayer.
For Marcus, it was new, strange, and intoxicating. She's never done this before. He felt her surrendering herself completely—not to him, but to porn, with him as the vessel. She looked back at him once, her voice sharp, commanding between moans:
“Tell me my porn addiction is normal, Marcus.”
He gripped her hips tighter, slowed his thrusts, and whispered it into her ear. Once. Twice. Over and over.
“This is normal.”
“This is normal.”
“This is normal.”
And together, they sank deeper—into the obsession, into the rhythm, into the truth of what their marriage had become.
Hours passed by. She did not stop watching. He did not stop thrusting. Both of them deep in the edge. She's a master of her orgasm. Marcus is willing participant fully enabling her porn addiction. And that is how they healed their marriage was healed with porn.
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keep touching yourself