Cheryl the BJ Queen

Story Info
Mike thinks Cheryl sucks him, but it's really me!
8.6k words
4.71
58.6k
99
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
BuckyDuckman
BuckyDuckman
6,350 Followers

Hi there! Here's a fun little story about a young man discovering his bisexual nature with the help of two very understanding women. I hope you enjoy!

*****

Silhouetted moths fluttered around the halogen lights in the parking lot like fat, summertime snowflakes. Mike and I sat in his small SUV, keeping one eye on the back door of the restaurant where Cheryl worked. Her shift had ended fifteen minutes ago.

"He's an idiot," Mike said, shaking his head. I nodded, knowing he was talking about Cheryl's boyfriend. The back door of the restaurant opened, but it wasn't Cheryl, not yet. "I'm serious, a sweet ass like hers deserves better."

"Like me," I joked, knowing that wasn't likely to happen, at least not around Mike. There was something about him that attracted women like moths to those bright halogen lights. If we went to a party, Mike would find a quiet corner and sit while I worked the room, smiling, joking, and making people laugh. An hour later, he'd have the prettiest girl at the party sitting next to him while I was still working to hook-up.

"You think he hits her?" Mike asked.

"If he does, then we're waiting for the wrong person," I growled, surprised how quickly my anger flared at the suggestion. Cheryl's boyfriend had a reputation for being a dick towards his girlfriends but I had never heard rumors that he hit them. Knowing Drew better than Mike, I shook my head. Drew was a player who went through girlfriends faster than tissues at a jerk-off contest. Drew and I had graduated together while Mike had graduated a year earlier. I had heard Drew's locker room boasts about how keeping a woman in her place but had never heard him suggest striking a woman. Still, if he had. . .

"No shit," Mike agreed, with a serious look on his face as we traded fist bumps. I wasn't kidding and I knew Mike would be there with me. Drew might be a former linebacker for the football team, but Mike and I could take him. "What's she see in him anyway?"

"Guess she likes the bad boy routine," I shrugged, which apparently included leaving your girlfriend stranded at work without a ride home. "He thinks women like being treated like shit."

"That's such bullshit," he said, shaking his head again. We waited in silence for a couple moments, as patient as hyenas waiting for the alpha animal to leave their prey. "Damn, she has a fine ass, doesn't she?"

"She has a cute smile, too," I pointed out. "I like her dimples when she smiles really big."

"Uh-huh, and I'm sure you've never noticed her tits, too," he laughed.

"Palm-sized without an ounce to spare," I admitted with a rakish grin, knowing both of us preferred baseball sized titties over giant sized boobs.

As Cheryl's well-memorized shape emerged from the back door of the restaurant, Mike asked, "You mind riding in the backseat?"

"Nope," I agreed, knowing I didn't stand a chance with a woman like her. I had seen the way her dimples flashed first for Mike before getting sharing with me. It had been Mike's idea to grab a bite to eat where Cheryl worked, but I was the one who had picked up on her lack of a ride home. Even though Mike was driving, I had made the offer to get her home after work. Cheryl had protested that it would be too late. I had assured her that we didn't care. Cheryl noticed me as I stood to duck into the backseat.

"You don't have to ride back there," she said, standing outside the door. I wished his car had four doors so I could both open and close the door for her like a real gentleman does. Instead, I pulled the passenger seat back into place to make room for her while promising her that I was fine. "But you're tall, wouldn't you be more comfortable up here?"

"He's fine," Mike assured her. "How was work?"

"Slow," she sighed. "Drew's going to be pissed."

"What's he have to do with anything?" Mike asked.

"We're saving up to get our own place," she explained.

"Yeah, but it's your money," I said, confused. "Shouldn't Drew find his own place and invite you to move in?"

"He still has a car payment and he said that if we're moving in together we should get used to sharing a bank account." If I had known she gave her tips to Drew, I wouldn't have over-tipped.

"What about college?"

"He's not going."

"No, for you," I clarified. While we hadn't shared a class since our junior year, I knew she had been a good student.

"Community college is free for the first two years."

The state offered two years of community college free for students who had maintained a B average. It was a good deal and why I still lived at home. "Did Drew get a football scholarship?" I knew he hadn't. Being a star linebacker at a small school in a very small division didn't mean much to the rest of the world.

"No, but he's going to get a license for driving a forklift, so that's good."

Mike shot me a clear "Shut up" glare in the reflection of the rearview mirror. I nodded, leaned back, and sprawled across the bench seat. I can't help it. I'm a talker. I waited for Mike to fill the gap in the conversation. Finally, he did, "Why didn't he pick you up?"

"He's hanging out with his friends and has to get up early tomorrow," Cheryl shrugged. "He'd kill me if he knew I was getting a ride home from two guys. I told him Renee was giving me a ride."

"Fuck him," Mike grumbled, ever the wordsmith.

"We won't tell," I offered, catching the concern in Cheryl's voice. "You're safe with us." She looked between the seats and flashed me a relieved smile. I waited for Mike to say something more and when he didn't, I filled in the blank space. "I'm serious, you can talk to us."

"I just. . . I don't know. . ." she said, starting and stopping. Again, I waited for Mike to pick up on her need to talk. He didn't.

"He's still being a jerk to you, isn't he?" I asked.

"He's just, I don't know . . ."

"He doesn't hit you, like ever, does he?" Mike asked, addressing our biggest concern.

"No, not ever."

Mike nodded without fishing for more. I realized it was the difference in our styles. Mike believed that if someone wanted to tell you something, they would. I've always believed that most people appreciate a bit of prodding.

"But something's not right, is it?" I asked.

"It's stupid."

"No, it isn't."

"And sort of private."

"Even better," I chuckled. She glanced over her shoulder and shot me a smile.

"I mean, like really personal," she giggled. It wasn't the first giggle I had drawn from her that night. When she was busy being our server, my brand of silliness had drawn lots of little giggles from her.

"He's got a small dick, doesn't he?" I quipped, earning another glare from Mike. He didn't like it when I pushed people even though I'm good at it.

"It's normal sized," she reported with another giggle.

"Mike's isn't," I said, throwing him a bone. After all, we were riding in his car, it had been his idea to visit Cheryl at work, and he had a much better chance at putting her together. Former cheerleaders didn't date goofy guys like me who drive an older, crappy car. Former cheerleaders like guys like Mike and Drew, guys who drove shiny new cars and who looked like they were going somewhere quickly. "Mike is hung like a horse and has a tongue like a frog."

"Really?" she asked, studying him for a moment before turning and asking me the obvious question. "Wait, how would you know?"

"He goes both ways," Mike laughed. He was joking. He didn't know any better. All of us laughed at his joke, including me, even if I knew better. Even if there were things about me that my best friend would never know.

"Really?" Cheryl asked, looking between the seats at me. She didn't know us well enough to know how we kid around, playfully poking fun at each other without malice.

"For you, I would," I said, making Mike laugh even harder. While Mike and I had been best buddies for years, he didn't know all my secrets. Sometimes my stories of conquest were altered ever-so-slightly for him. For example, he knew that I had scored with that hot MILF who lived down the street from me. He had thought it was impressive that an eighteen-year-old like me could bed down a hot thirty-something-year-old woman with a kid in kindergarten even after sitting next to me when I had found her profile on that adult dating site. Mike hadn't read her profile. He was never much of a reader and I never offered him the link to that page, either. There were things Mike didn't need to know.

Mike didn't need to know how that single night with Deanna had actually been a threesome with Deanna and her husband. I never mentioned John being there or why he was there. I did mention Deanna getting me drunk because that was cool. I had told him about how her big, fake titties had felt really firm and sort of fake. In fact, I had even blamed her fake tits as one of the reasons why I didn't get with her again. I had told him she had a big pussy, too. Too big. And that I was afraid of getting caught by her husband. I had laid it on thick enough that we never dwelled on the topic.

I never told Mike how Karen's husband had been part of that first night and the two other times I had hung out with the kinky couple down the road from me. He didn't need to know how awkward it felt kissing the hot, blonde MILF with big tits in front of her husband, did he? Or how it had been John's idea for me to grope his wife, how John had said, "Go ahead, grab yourself a handful of those titties. We paid good money for those ta-tas!"

I had told Mike that Deanna had been a good kisser because she had been. Deanna kissed like a porn-star, with an open mouth, all tongue and sloppy as hell. After pulling my hand to her tits, she had buried a hand between my legs and got the response she wanted. Nerves and booze couldn't blunt the fires of an eighteen-year-old with one hand on a girl's chest. Even with her husband watching, I had gotten hard as hell.

"Mm, he's big," Deanna reported to her husband as he moved and sat next to us on the couch. We kept Deanna sandwiched between us. I watched them kiss. I watched him grabbing his wife's big tits. I saw how she put a hand between his legs and the large bulge she caressed.

Deanna helped me get naked. She pushed my shirt up and ran her hand across my bare chest while cooing about strong I was. She played with my nipples while complimenting my pecs. Deanna had been the first girl to ever play with my nipples and it had felt good in a very strange and new way. She even sucked on them as if I had tits or something. When she pinched my tiny man-sized nipples, I began sensing that I was in over my head. These two grown-ups knew much more about sex than I had ever learned in my first few months of being an adult.

The three of us became topless. I don't remember how it happened, it just did. One minute, I'm shirtless and kissing Deanna. The next minute, Deanna and John were topless, too. That's when things started to get weird. Not unexpectedly weird. Unlike Mike, I had read their entire profile on that adult dating website. I knew John would be there. I knew they partied as a couple. And I knew why they had wanted another man to join them.

After replying to their profile, there had been a dozen back-and-forth messages and emails between me and them. The first few had been messages on the dating site's service which had required me to fill out a complete profile. I tailored mine to match what they were looking to find while doing my best to maintain my anonymity in case someone else I knew found my profile. I might have just graduated high school, but I wasn't stupid.

Emails were private, personal, and explicit. We hadn't shared pictures that included our faces until we had gotten to the email phase. They didn't recognize me, but I sure recognized them! I replied with nudes, showing myself naked, hard, and, well, other stuff, too.

I had been busy enjoying the topography of Deanna's chest while she had pulled open her husband's jeans and pulled out his big dick. She pulled my hand off her chest and insisted I touch John's hard cock. With her lips pressed against mine, I willingly started my descent into a very confusing place. She made sure my hand didn't stop touching him as she kissed me and pulled open my pants, too.

Three times I had hooked up with Deanna and her husband, though Mike had only heard highlights and half-lies about the first time. He didn't need to know the rest. Mike didn't need to know how John and I had traded blowjobs for Deanna's enjoyment. Nor did he need to know how much I had enjoyed sucking John with Deanna helping me do it. Or, that the real reason I stopped seeing them was that it bothered me how much I had enjoyed sucking dick with her.

So when I told Cheryl, For you I would, I wasn't kidding even though I laughed as soon as I had said it and so had Mike. We had laughed together, all three of us. Ha, ha, ha. Big joke. The straight, ex-football player sucking dick. Funny. Fucking hilarious.

"Maybe you could give me lessons then because Drew doesn't think I give good head," Cheryl said, her giggle fading away.

"If by "lessons" you mean "volunteer for practice," then sign me up," Mike joked. We laughed though at least two out of three people in the car knew Mike wasn't kidding.

"You guys are so funny." It felt good when Cheryl looked between the seats and shared her smiled with me. Damn, those dimples were so cute! "We should do something."

I swear I was joking when I said, "We could go parking so you can practice."

"Get me drunk and who knows what will happen?" she laughed.

"I know a guy who will sell to us," Mike offered, turning on his right turn signal. I knew who he meant and why we were turning right even though taking Cheryl home meant he should go straight ahead.

"Drew would kill me if he found out."

"Who's going to tell him?" Mike asked.

"Tell him what?" I added. "You got a ride home from a girlfriend because Drew was too much of a jerk to come and get you."

"I only want to get a little drink," Cheryl said.

Mike drove to the convenient store where a friend who didn't check IDs worked. We bought two bottles of wine.

* * * * *

Still living with our respective parents meant Mike and I had personal parking spots for impromptu alone time with a pretty girl. I knew his and he knew mine, which was important for nights when we both got lucky. I noticed Mike choose my spot, an unused service road for a line of high tension power lines. We bounced down the dirt trail until we were well hidden from the road and prying eyes. The moon rose and fell between the gap in the trees and it was as romantic of a spot as I could find. We kept both bottles of cheap wine sealed until we were parked. Without discussing it, Mike and I made sure the first bottle returned to her hands between each of our sips. Our teamwork meant she two sips for each sip of his or mine. If she noticed, she didn't mention it.

After twenty minutes of drinking and laughing at our antics Cheryl asked, "Is there a secret to sucking dick?"

"Ask him," Mike said, pointing at the backseat where I sat. He was joking, of course, and again we all laughed. He hadn't been there with Deanna and John. He couldn't know how I had slipped off the straight and narrow pathway of being 100% straight.

"I'm serious," she moaned as her laughter died away and I could tell Drew's words had truly hurt her.

It occurred to me they how long they had been dating. "Was he your first?" I asked, quietly. Respectfully.

She nodded. "At everything, including that."

"It's not as if you do anything magical," Mike offered. "Mind your teeth, I guess." From personal experience, I could have added more but I held back.

"So, I don't need to, like, deep-throat or anything?"

"Yes, you do," I said with mocking sincerity. Of course, I was joking. At least I think I was joking, except I still had very vivid memories of how good it felt for Deanna or John to draw all of me into their mouths and throat. And, how much fun Deanna had had watching me get over my gag reflex so I could deep-throat John, too.

It took Cheryl a moment to realize I was joking and after she did, she added, "It's just that, even when I put him all the way into my mouth, he barely touches my throat, so I don't know how I'm supposed to deep-throat him." Mike and I exchanged a glance before bursting into howls of laughter. Big, bad Drew clearly wasn't very big where it mattered the most to a man. We tried explaining that to Cheryl, but she looked doubtful. "He always tells me I'm lucky to have a guy with a dick as big as his."

"Maybe she has a big mouth," I offered, still grinning.

Cheryl ignored our laughter, staying focused on her problem. She twisted in her seat to look at me. "Do I really have to deep-throat him?"

"You can use your tongue, too," I offered. "Sort of swirl it around the head. Guys like that."

"Really? And what else do you like to do when you're giving head?" Mike asked. He was teasing, just busting my balls the way guys like to do.

"Fuck you," I shot back, losing points for creativity, while still putting him in his place even as his comment gave me an idea. "Maybe Drew doesn't like getting head?"

"Bullshit, all guys like getting head," Mike corrected. I couldn't argue with and I didn't share how a some of us enjoy giving head, too.

"But I like doing it," Cheryl pouted. We stared at her, startled at her confession. "Is that wrong?"

"Oh hell no," Mike quickly assured her. She looked in the backseat for my opinion.

"I love you," I blurted out, drawing a big, pretty grin from her. "I'm serious. I think giving guy head is one of the most intimate things you can do. Same with going down on a woman."

"Yeah, I love doing that," Mike interjected.

"Me too," I continued. "It's like a really intimate kiss."

"Drew doesn't like doing that either," Cheryl complained. "I mean, he'll do it sometimes, but only for a little bit."

Mike and I had been best friends for a long time. There wasn't much we hadn't shared, especially when it came to our dating conquests. "That's usually where I start the festivities," he said.

"Yeah, I like to make sure my date has the first orgasm," I added, knowing that was Mike's system, too.

"By going down on her?" Cheryl asked, making sure she understood. We nodded our heads and she squirmed. "Stop it or you guys are going to get me excited."

"Join the club," I joked, except I was only half-joking. Talking about blowjobs had gotten to me. I suppose I could blame the wine, except I don't believe that mattered much. We were hidden away in my usual parking spot, Cheryl was a beautiful woman, and we were talking about sex. I think there would have been something wrong with me if I wasn't hard and I was very hard.

I think every guy has had a moment they instantly memorize for later playback. A moment that screams sex, even if it never happens. Somewhere in the back of our minds, we start recording every moment. Later, we'll start playing back those captured moments, tweaking them, twisting reality while stroking our hard cocks and celebrating what could have been. Sometimes, you know you're in a moment like that. You just know that later you'll be replaying this moment while jerking off. That's how I felt sitting in the car with Cheryl. Later, in my mind, she would be practicing her blowjob technique on Mike and I. In fact, that fantasy could include Mike and I taking turns going down on her, too. That would have been so good, except that's not quite what had happened.

I like porn, but fantasies grounded in reality are so much better than any porn clip where people get naked too soon, too easily, and get right down to it. That's not real life. There are fumbles and false starts. It can be a bit sloppy until it's happening. And, sometimes what happens isn't "everything" like in the movies. Just because she allowed you to snake your fingers inside her panties didn't mean she was going to let you fuck her up the ass and squirt on her face. That's porn stuff and it's crazy.

BuckyDuckman
BuckyDuckman
6,350 Followers