A Slut Awakening - Blow and Go

Society feels like this crushing weight on us all. How can anyone breathe with this pressure? How do people stay happy? I feel like a bystander sometimes, just watching it all happen around me, going through the motions, wondering when I will have a moment of peace. It isn't the world, it's people. People are so desperate and hungry, so afraid to be anything more than a caricature of themselves. I crave attention, I crave to feel beautiful. At night I am alone and I am a goddess inside, and my flesh comes alive and I become hungry like they are. But I don't want to let them in. I want to be used and to use them, and that is all.

I did a stint online, browsing the men, yearning for something beyond what any of their empty words could give me. Long walks on the beach—how could any woman stoop so low or feel so generic? I broke hearts on these dates.

Hundreds of men wrote to me, mostly lame thoughtless pickup attempts that felt as fragile and useless as a teenager making a pass. No guts or talent to them. Occasionally one would shine through and pique my interest. We would chat back and forth until I felt like I could enjoy sitting through a bar or restaurant or movie with them. Always I would get there and feel bored. They would look at me with their puppy dog eyes or their wolfish eyes, or anywhere in between that spectrum. It didn't flatter me or turn me on, but eventually I would reach a point in the night where I either knew I was going to go home with them or that I wasn't. The sex was mostly passable. Desperate fumbling and licking and biting and fucking. It wasn't what I wanted to be feeling, but it filled something in me. I would look forward to these little glimmers between the doldrums of my life. I became addicted to the encounters, but never to the men.

My therapist said that meaningless sex wasn't going to bring me happiness, and she was right about that. It was always fleeting. I would let myself go as far as I could, and then I would immediately withdraw, like a disinterested man. This caused the men to try harder, to fall in love with my unattainability. Eventually I would let them all down easily, with a text. During this phase, I only gave one of them a second date, and it wasn't a date it was just a careless fuck that he didn't understand. I apologized to his hurt feelings a few times and then told him flat out to stop texting me because I wasn't interested.

He was an alright guy, but he wasn't for me. Maybe it was this small city I detested, and the numbing existence of the inhabitants. I'd lived in San Francisco, Portland, New York, Paris. And here I was in upstate NY, some podunk town that had no soul, no breath, no pulse. Even the vampires here were just addicts getting lost in the charade of nightlife without any goals to make them interesting. It felt like every man I met at work or online or just out and about was a parasite, trying to grab onto me as I worked diligently toward something larger. They all felt doomed to go nowhere and do nothing, just walking through the same daily steps that had gotten them here in the first place. And what could possibly be interesting about that?

My girlfriend Annika was from Berlin and taught Sociology at the university here. Annika had a soul that burned and she was going somewhere. One night after wine and Tapas and some dancing at the bar, we retired to her apartment and laid around on her couch drinking more and being silly and bitching about life. We recapped the men who'd talked to us and made fun of their lame pick ups.

"That Dan guy actually danced up behind me and told me my hips don't lie!" I said.

We cackled about him for the fifth time since he'd said that. I'd told him "Ewww, my hips are about to kick you in the nuts if you don't go away."

"You don't have to be a bitch," he'd said, returning to his buddies at the bar.

Annika was wearing a short button-up dress that she'd unbuttoned once we got back to her place so her bra was showing off a generous glimpse of her ample breasts. God she had gorgeous breasts. A full cup larger than mine, they pushed against anything she wore as if they could barely contain themselves.

"I feel like I'm so bored of men that maybe I'm just boring," I said. "Because if I were exciting, I would obviously be excited to be alive. And I'm not. I'm just... living in this funk."

"No, hon, it definitely isn't just you. It's me too. So either we're both boring, or they're actually all boring. Really just fuck these men." It sounded like 'feck deze men'.

Annika had a subtle German accent, hard to describe, but it rolled softly from her lips. When she was angry, it deepened and I would jokingly tell her to stop talking like Hitler.

"You're definitely not boring. Feck deze men is right!" I said.

She and I were a hot pair, her blond contrasting my brunette and we always had plenty of attention when we went out together. Funny thing is that we went out to have fun and talk to each other and dance together and it was annoying to have the men buzzing around us like mosquitos. I know every guy thinks that if we dress up it's because we want them to approach us, but that's the opposite of how we felt. We dressed up to feel good for ourselves, and we loved dressing up together, looking at each other, just being girls together and appreciating each others' beauty. Not in a sexual way, just to be feminine and share that bond that women can only share with each other. Mostly we'd go to the gay bar to avoid grindy mosquitos, but a lot of straight men had figured this out and would lurk at the gay bar trying to dance and cop feels on us. The lesbian bar had closed, but that used to be a sanctuary, except the butch dykes were as annoying and aggressive as men, while totally lacking the right plumbing to turn us on if we were in the mood.

I have to admit, I'd thought about having sex with Annika, but I wasn't prepared to do that. We were flirty and gropey with each other, but we also knew this wouldn't solve our issues in the sex department.

"I have a confession," Annika said. Then she blushed and giggled and threw her face into a pillow. "Oh my god, I can't say it but I really need to tell someone."

"What is it?" I leaned forward, knowing from her body language that she was going to drop a juicy bomb on me.

"Well, I can't really explain it in any way that's going to make it sound good so I'm just going to say it."

"Tell me!"

"I've been... um..." She laughs and hides her face again. Her dress is riding up so I can see her butt-cheek and her black panties. Yeah, it's really short. I can't blame men. It's almost cruel for her to wear that and meanwhile have no interest in talking to any of them. What can I say, we're all a bunch of bitches.

"You have to tell me, Annika! Spill it!" I demand.

"Okay, well." Another pause to torture me. "I've been meeting guys... off of craigslist, and..."

"Annika, you are NOT a craigslist prostitute!!"

"NO!" she says, emphatically. "I just sort of meet them, then suck them off. Then I leave." She hides her face in the pillow, laughing hysterically. "Oh my god, it's so embarrassing to say it out loud."

I stare at her with my jaw hanging to the floor, trying to process this. I'm distracted by hunger and other needs that are better fulifilled on the north side.

"Do they pay you?" Why are you doing this?"

"I just... like it. I can't explain it. I started doing it two months ago and..."

"You've been doing this two months and didn't tell me! What the fuck Annika, I thought you were my friend!'

Her face is as red as a life-threatening fever. "I was just browsing the missed connections one night, and I saw this ad from a college guy who just really wanted his dick sucked. He posted a pic of it and I was just in the mood to suck him off. So I—"

"How is that a missed connection?" I demand to know.

"No that one was in casual encounters."

"I just lost all respect for you!" I say, laughing.

"No no, it wasn't sleazy. He wrote a really sweet ad and I just felt like doing it. I couldn't sleep, and I was a little horny and I just missed being young or something. I felt like a mischievous little girl."

"And?"

"And I met up with him in back of the Tops parking lot, and he got in my car, and I blew him."

I'm trying to process the dark secret life my bestie has just laid on me, and I can't. I'm turned on imagining it, but I also just can't fathom her meeting a stranger in the middle of the night and doing this. "Okay, so you and this fellatio prince charming of yours have been together for two months?"

She shakes her head, giggling again. "My god I am such a whore. No, Aura, I actually never saw him again. I just started... doing it to other guys. Like whenever I'm craving a little somethin somethin but don't want it to be a big something."

"You whore!"

"No shit!"

"How many guys?"

"Like... twelve?"

"You don't even know how many?" I can see that in her face.

"No. I can't explain it. I've been doing it more lately, like it's some addiction now. After the first guy I didn't do another one for 3 weeks." I give her the look and she's having a hard time facing me. "Well I just did another one, then another. And suddenly I've done three this week."

"When you didn't text me back last night?"

"Uh huh."

"Annika Brandt!"

"Fuck me with a wooden dildo, my life sucks, okay! This is what I like doing lately. And I love it. I can't explain."

"And you just blow these guys? You don't fuck them?"

"No fucking. But I literally have the most intense orgasms just sucking on them. It's taking control of me Aura. Seriously, I need help or something."

"Have you told Debbie?"

"No way."

Debbie is her therapist.

I chug a huge sip of wine then slam the glass down. "Well I can't believe it. I need a new nickname for you or something."

The truth is that I'm turned on by this immensely but I don't want to admit it. My pussy is throbbing and I feel like kissing her for some reason. This beautiful girl is sitting here with her dick lips rattling off the numbers of random guys she's been blowing behind my back for the last two months!

"Can I be honest?" I finally say.

She looks at me exasperated. "Oh like you could possibly have something worse than this?"

"Hell no! I just want to say that it kind of turns me on." Pause. "Like, a lot. Like I feel like doing it right now."

"Do you?"

"Yup."

"Want me to find one for you?" she says. "I have an ad up and I get a million responses."

"An ad? You put up and 'I'll suck your dick' personals ad on the internet to find random men?"

She nods, blushing and smiling her sexy smile. "I kinda feel like doing it, too. We can have two guys meet us in the back of the parking lot."

"What, do them in the same car?"

"No. You'll be in one guys car and I'll be in another."

"This is so dirty."

"It's so hot, though, right?"

***

And that's how I find myself sitting in the passenger seat of Annika's Prius, smoking a cigarette and anxiously checking my phone.

"I have another question," I tell her.

"Shoot."

"Have you ever met up with any of these guys twice?"

"No."

"Do they text you again?"

She shrugs. "I block their numbers. I don't want to hear from them again. I'm like a little cum fairy who just flits into their life and gives them this little present then poof I'm gone."

"Wow."

"What's weird about it? It's safe, no one's feelings get involved. We both cum. It's really an ideal situation for a girl."

"I mean, I've cum from giving BJs before, but it doesn't happen every time. It's actually pretty rare."

Annika smirks at me. "Maybe you won't then. But maybe you will love it."

I grin back. "I know I'm going to. My pussy is so wet just thinking about it."

A red van pulls into the parking lot and takes the spot in the shadows, along the edge of the treeline. My phone hasn't lit up, but Annika's dings. "That's my guy," she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She opens her door and starts to get out. "No wait—what if my guy doesn't show?"

"What guy isn't going to show up to a free blowjob?" she laughs and closes the door.

I'm anxious and maddened that I have to sit in the car by myself now. Maybe my guy thinks I'm a cop and that this is some kind of sting operation where I will get him turned on and ask for money? He said his name is Ryan, but who knows. He sent a face pic and a cock pic, and both were nice.

I watch transfixed as Annika crosses the parking lot to the red Sierra. She stops at the passenger window and says something, so the window must be open. Then I see the cargo door slide open by itself, and she climbs in there. A second later a guy exits the driver's seat and gets in the driver's cargo door. I worry for a minute that he might try to rape her, but Annika's a tough German girl and I know she can take care of herself.

A pair of headlights cruises into the parking lot slowly and I feel a rush inside my chest and between my legs. I'm looking for a gray Escalade, but this is a pickup truck. It idles slowly and I wonder if he had to change cars? Then it turns down a lane and cruises to the grocery store, parking near the front. Not my guy. Damnit.

I can't see anything from the Sierra. The windows are tinted so no silhouettes. I imagine Annika's lips wrapped around some strange guy's cock right now and I feel wetness spreading between my legs. Her guy had a nice cock too. She wasn't sure she'd be able to deepthroat it, but she was sure as hell going to try.

Finally I See my Escalade pull in! He takes forever to get to the appointed parking spot, six spots away from Annika's guy, along the treeline but closer to the back.

Okay, this is what separates the women from the girls! Or actually, this is what pretty much ensures that I'm still a slutty little girl and not ready for a mature relationship with a man yet.

I open the car door, feeling heady and practically floating across the parking lot as I approach the Escalade. My walk is purposeful and sexy, heels clacking loudly through the night. The glaring halide lights feel like a spotlight, and this lot is my runway. I feel anxious, like I'm doing something I shouldn't be, something crazy and foolish and potentially even dangerous. What the hell am I doing this for? It makes no sense, it's just for this exact rush. Get control, Aura, I tell myself. You own this man's cock for a few minutes.

Annika described her experiences to me while we shopped through men. She felt nervous at first, but somehow it became empowering. She said now it makes her feel like some ancient sex goddess who is wandering the world, pleasing mortals whenever it suits her. She's so dramatic, but I understand her metaphor as I reach out to the door handle of the Escalade.

I open the door, lock eyes with the man in the shadows. I can barely see his face. His hair is short, I can see it is the same guy from the picture.

"Hi," he says, and I can tell he's nervous. His smell is a hint of fire, like a woodstove. He cooked on the grill tonight and it's still on him.

"Hi," I say.

I slide into the seat and pull the door shut, briefly noticing the Sierra with darkened windows in the background behind his head. He's wearing khaki pants and a dark button down shirt.

"You're late," I admonish.

"Um, yeah, sorry. I, uh. My wife had a list of stuff she wanted."

"Not so happily married."

"No."

The silence deepens. I feel myself pulsing with anticipation. Should I reach out now. I was here for one reason and one reason only. But no, I didn't want it yet. I wanted to take my time. I feel like a cat must feel when eyeing a mouse. He is food, I can have him at any time and he knows it. Except a mouse wants to run, and a man is nervous and afraid that you won't like the taste of him and will just leave him there, half-eaten and worked up.

I ask him, "Why are you with her?"

He thinks about it. "It was good in the beginning. After twelve years she doesn't really want to have sex anymore. We have kids and they take up all our time. She says she's too tired, but..." He pauses and I wait, studying him. He has good cheeks and a strong jawline, maybe some hint of Asian or Native American giving his eyes a slightly almond shape. "I think that's just an excuse. She's just not a very sexual person, or she's not into me anymore." Another pause and I can hear the unspoken words as he wonders if she's having an affair. He sees me watching him, thinking the same thing. He says, "I haven't gotten head in at least a year. I saw your ad and I just thought I'd like to experience that again."

Not my ad. I hadn't even looked at Annika's ad. What did it say?

I stare at him, liking his awkwardness as he shifts and fidgets with his hands a little. He seems like a sweet guy, not a player. He doesn't know what to do now, as if he's forgotten how to pick up a woman in all these years of domestic dissatisfaction.

"You're really beautiful," he says, shyly looking away, then back at me.

"Thank you," I say, feeling a girly tingle inside. You can tell when a man really thinks that and when he's just saying it to get laid. I knew ultimately this guy would bore me, but this is the part I always liked on dates, when we got back to his place and did our little mating dance. Some guys like to sit and talk and ease in slow, and there's this build up of tension as I watch them waiting to make their move. Others are on me before we even get inside, fondling and kissing and opening buttons, sliding up skirts. One totally unclassy POF guy asked if I wanted to give him roadhead on the drive to his house. Something inside me said yes and I did it. His cum exploded in my mouth before he'd even gotten halfway home, but fortunately he got hard again when we got back. That horny fucker. Giving in to that impulse had been a pale shadow of this moment, but perhaps a stepping stone. I now understood why Annika loved this. You get all the tension and build up right away without the awkward dinner and 'what's your favorite color' convos.

"So, um... " he says.

"Yes?"

"Well, the ad said no words. Just pull up, get serviced, and leave."

It did, did it? That skank Annika!

I reach across the seat and put my hand on his knee, my eyes locked on his, chewing my lip a little. I wasn't ready to do it yet. I let my fingers trace along the muscles of his thigh, feeling them tense. They're strong, large muscles. He probably spends regular time at the gym. My fingers slide upward. I want to hear more about him.

"I'll tell you what," I say. "I didn't write that ad."

He tenses. "You didn't?"

"Nope. My friend did. She's in that van over there sucking on some random guy, like I'm going to suck you."

"I don't understand. You guys come here together and just blow men?"

"She does. This is my first time doing it."

"I don't have any cash on me."

"I don't want money," I tell him. "This is for me. I feel like a goddess when I have a man in my mouth."

"Okay. Okay." He rocks a little in the seat, shifting his hips toward me. I let my fingers trace up his leg and slide them down to his inner thigh, were they rest mere inches from his cock, kneading subtly so that the backs of my knuckles brush against his sack. His khakis move slightly as his cock throbs. "So what now?"

"Now I'm going to take you into my mouth," I tell him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you can handle that?"

"Yeah," he moans as my fingertips trace along his balls through his khakis.

"And I'm going to slide my lips all the way down your cock until they're touching your balls."

"Oh yes," he says. I slide my fingertips up his shaft, letting it lead me.

"And I'm going to suck on your cock slowly, until I feel you building up."