A Slut Awakening - Blow and Go

"Uh huh." He's thrusting his hips against my fingers, and I cup my hand and begin stroking. His grunts are so intense I have to stop so he doesn't blow in his pants.

"Slow down," I tell him, removing my hand.

"Okay."

"You don't get to cum in your pants, you horny, sex-deprived man."

"No," he says.

"No," I say, sharply. "That load is for me, and I get to swallow it, right?"

"Yes, it's all for you." I own this man. He would do anything for me right now.

"Have you ever cheated on your wife before?"

"No," he says, but I see something nervous in his eyes.

I squeeze his shaft aggressively. "Don't lie to me."

He looks at me, a plea in his eyes, and some confusion. He wonders how I know. Men think they're so good at hiding things, but I'm a master at reading body language. I notice everything they try to hide. "Tell me," I command him.

"I did once."

"Tell me what happened." I relax my grip on his shaft and leave my hand there, gently coaxing.

He shifts again in his seat. I wonder if he might run back to his wife, if he's feeling guilty. I don't want that to happen, I want him in my mouth. I begin caressing his cock through his pants in long strokes, pausing to let my fingers pull his belt out from the loop.

"I was out at a bar with my friends and got too drunk. A girl I knew from high school was there, and she kept hitting on me, telling me she'd always had a crush on me. Next thing I know she was dancing against me and started kissing me." Judging from the way his eyes react when he says that, it was probably him who started kissing her.

"Did she suck your cock?" I ask.

"No, no, she put her hand in my pants while we were dancing and started stroking me. I was so turned on I just came almost right away."

A handjob? What a choirboy. "That's it?"

"Yeah. After I came I felt horrible and I got right out of there."

That's barely cheating, but this guy is all bound up with guilt about it. It's kind of cute in a way. I reach down with both hands and undo his belt buckle, letting the tips of my fingers slide between his pants and his underwear. I ask, "Are you going to feel all guilty about this?"

"Probably."

I undo the button on his pants, letting my fingers slide his zipper slowly down. His cock feels like a good size through all the layers, but I'm excited to experience it more than on the surface. And yet he is resisting me, and I want to brush that resistance away like a mosquito. But I also want to respect his position, and not be the force that makes him cheat.

"Did she cheat on you?" I ask.

He flinches. It hurts him to share it, but I know immediately that she did. And I want to hear about it.

"Yes," he admits finally.

Nothing more.

"What did she do?" I ask, caressing him more, wanting him to tell me, wanting to avenge him.

He is so quiet it almost feels like he won't tell me. And then he speaks, out of nowhere, like a dripping faucet giving one small piece at a time. "Well," he says. "She went out one night and..." A pause between drips. "She met a guy one night at a club and he..." pause. "...talked to her about her relationship. And she realized she wasn't happy." A long pause, I keep stroking his cock, and the pause lasts so long that I slide my fingertips into his underwear, wanting to ensure my own victory, feeling his heat and the infinite softness that his cock gives back. "And she fucked him in his hotel room. She told me about it right away and I..." He stops. What does he want to tell me? He doesn't continue, as if the story is over.

"And you what?"

"And I listened to her tell me about him," he says.

"Did she love it?"

He gulps. The first I hear of him balking.

"She loved it," he says, finally. "She dropped right to her knees and she sucked his cock. Then he ate her pussy, and she let him. And then..." He pauses. "And then he fucked her. She didn't make him wear a condum. She let him do it to her, the way I do. She rode him, he rode her, she let him do everything to her."

"Anal?" is my first, insensitive response.

"No, not that. But everything else. They fucked all night. And he came in her, and she took the morning after pill. I—" He let's that word hang in the air for a long time. "I fucked her a couple times before she told me. So.. um... I could've gotten AIDS. She didn't care. I was nothing to her, and she actually told me that the reason she didn't think about me or care is because I was nothing to her in that moment. After she told me that, I cheated on her and got a handjob, but I literally couldn't live with myself. I felt like two wrongs don't make a right. You know?"

I slip my hand into his briefs, feeling the head of his cock, letting my fingers trace down the shaft. Any guilt I had felt is alleviated by this story, and the way she treated him. I want her to pay, to see my mouth as I bent down and...

... took his head into my own mouth. Fuck you, bitch, I thought. This is a good man right here. You defiled and ignored him and...

... I sucked him deeper, feeling his warm flesh fill my mouth, his extended head pushing it's way down my throat, opening me wider.

I love your cock, I thought. It's so soft and warm and filling my mouth. How could she...

But I pulled back from those thoughts. I knew how a man could make a woman feel great or like shit, and I didn't want to know about his personal life. Blow and go, Annika had said. And I let him feel my mouth squirming and enclosing his girth, loving this feeling of him. I think I always knew I needed some reason. It couldn't just be random, but he'd given me every reason and I sucked his cock deep into me, feeling my pussy throb with every pulse as his cock throbbed in my mouth. I was high already, and he wasn't, and I wanted him to feel as high as I felt, even if it wasn't quite pure or true.

I drove deep down on his shaft, my lips forming the 'O' as I tongued the sensitive underside of him, loving every caress, every jolt, every feeling I left him with. Whenever he throbbed, I throbbed inside, between my legs, feeling the warmth and the desire to make him feel good because it felt good to me. His moans were a deep growling sound, making me tingle, my entire body feeling so sexy servicing this man. And that's what mattered to me.

I mouth-fuck him, taking him all the way into my throat, slipping up and down on his saliva coated cock. His hand finds its way to the back of my head and tangles in my hair, and I like his control, I like this being my sole purpose to please him as he desires. He pushes my head down, impaling me on him, holding me there, his moans get louder and his cock swells in my mouth and throat.

Then I become his cock for one explosive moment, feeling him rushing through me, hot white light and sound rushing in my ears and cum exploding from me as my body falls apart and puts itself back together again.

And then I am me again, his cum dripping down my open throat, his cum in my mouth, everywhere, dripping out around the sides of my lips, down his shaft. Your cock is so beautiful, I want to tell him. I can barely stand how much I love it, how much I love your sticky oozy cum filling my mouth and letting me feel again what I felt as a young girl.

I lap it up, his own private goddess drinking him for one moment, blessing him with my gift. I love his salty taste, I love his cock pulsating in my mouth like a living organism, throbbing...

And yet I must pull away. His hard slippery member slides back out of my lips, dribbling its seed from my mouth while I swallow and gag. I suck him back in, not ready to let go yet. I suck it deeper, loving how soft it feels now, his flesh feeding my hunger and my throat as I feel him slide deep again. I want another load, or ten more loads from him. I wish he could just keep spurting that hot cum into my mouth and let me drink it all down like a bottle of Whiskey.

Hours or days pass and whatever time it is, it's time for me to go. Time for him to go back to her, whoever she is, that person I just don't give a fuck about. Our time here is done, and I cannot let myself care what becomes of him. I wish him well, but he reached out for a gift and I bestowed it, and now I must separate myself and let him return to his patterns and sorrows and triumphs. His life is his again, and my life is mine, and as I draw my lips slowly back from his world, I am saying goodbye but he doesn't know that.

"Wait," he says, as if he knows. "I need to see you again."

I shake my head no, and try to say 'no' to him but his cum is coating my throat so I choke the word out. Then I swallow that last bit and I say, "No," aloud. The word feels strange, and the whole world feels upside down. Yes I want him again, yes I love him and his cock, and yet I can't sit through another moment of his life story. Do you understand? Probably not. It's nothing personal at all, it's just the way this game must be played. I can't stay. It's over, as quickly as it began.

I reach for the door handle, some piece of me needs to feel that cold metal, grounding me to earth and letting me be cold. I let my body slide out of his Escalade. Our time is done. I close the door, further compartmentalizing him as I return to myself, not caring about his sad marriage.

I taste him in my mouth still, salty and bitter and yet I want more more more of this nectar. How is it that cock can make me so dizzy, and submissive, and aligned.

The passenger window rolls down. "Please let me have your number!" he pleads.

I smile sadly at him and blow him a kiss.

I need to get back to Annika. I want to thank her, tell her all about this dizzying experience.

Why did I suck a strange man's cock? I don't know. Annika knows, though. I know I want to do it again, not to him, but to someone just as vulnerable. I float across the parking lot, such a sexy gorgeous goddess, just having paid my dues to man.

Annika is waiting when I come back. I see her smirk and she knows what I just experienced. His cum is still in my mouth and her guy's cum is in her mouth, and I lean slowly across her darkened Prius so I can feel her lips. They're so soft, I could live inside her lips, her tongue moves across my lips and we share the cum of our men. There is a slight difference in her tangy salty mouth and the brine of the man I just swallowed.

I find myself wanting another cock, already. I want more cum. Different cum. Right now. This is a dangerous game that I'm getting high on. I want to be someone else's whore tonight, but only for a moment, then I want to come back to Annika. She's an island and I'm a fledgling in this game.

"Denny's?" Annika asks me. It sounds as good as anywhere to have a cup of coffee and talk. But secretly I'm wondering if there will be a couple men there who might like to visit the car with us.

I pull the visor down and touch up my makeup in the mirror, feeling beautiful, loving the shape of my eyes, my lips, my face. I think fleetingly of my guy of the night, Ryan, or whatever his name was. I'm sorry for him, just clinging to the edge of his silly, sad life and barely letting himself live. I'm not sorry for me at all. I feel so wholly and completely alive...there is a goddess inside me, she has been slumbering; she is waking.