The Making of Meaghan Ch. 05

I wasn't able to get Dave away from his phone and delete the rest of the pictures and had to bide my time, waiting for an opportunity. I had to be certain that I had deleted all the pictures, or it would be devastating. He kept taking explicit pictures of me too, which made it all the more difficult to keep up with him.

Over the following weeks, we settled into a regular routine that almost seemed normal in some sick way. I just couldn't muster the energy to resist him. I think I may have been depressed, as my energy levels were low, and I slept a lot.

Dave insisted on his morning blowjob. I would rise groggily at 5:30 am, momentarily not remembering my morning chore, but sickly realizing what I had to do. Dave had provided several camisole nighties and matching panties for me to choose from. I would select a pair, put on nylons, and quietly make my way into the master bedroom.

Dave was usually sprawled across the bed snoring. He had made it very clear that I was to be quiet, and just gently come into bed and make my way to his cock. He usually had a morning woody, but sometimes he was flacid as I slid under the sheets.

I was not allowed to touch him with my hands, only my mouth. Sometimes it was hard to find a position to get my lips on him, and I would have to wait for him to shift a bit.

The blowjobs would always start out the same: I would take his tip into me, licking his helmet gently to not wake him up too fast. He would groan and begin to stiffen. I would take his slowly engorging cock in my mouth and wait as it swelled inside me. When he was sufficiently stiff, I would begin to work his shaft, bobbing up and down with a gentle suck - not the full length, which would require me to deepthroat him, and I tried to avoid that if I could. Sometimes he would be deep in sleep and very slow to rise, so I would just take his whole flacid penis in my mouth and gently suck on it till he began to fill out.

When his dick was stiff and slippery from precum and my saliva, I would start to work him more steadily. I didn't want to have to take any longer than necessary, so I would suck with increasing pressure from my mouth and tongue. I found swirling my tongue and concentrating my suck on his circumcised head, alternating with deeper plunges to the back of my throat, would help move things along.

After a couple of minutes we would settle in to a familiar rhythm: me sucking and licking; him, gently pushing his hips into me, often his hand putting light pressure on the back of my head to keep me on him. Sometime it would get way too hot under the sheets, and I would feel suffocated but I had to just bear with it as best I could. If I was lucky, he would begin to stiffen noticeably in a few minutes and groan heavily. I would suck and lick extra hard and feel him rise to an orgasm, relieved when he would shoot his semen into me, and I would swallow it all in several gulps.

He insisted on me licking him clean to not get the bedsheets dirty, and giving each of his nuts a quick suck. All told, maybe 45 minutes of work, and I had the rest of the day off. Disgusting as it was, I have to admit it could be worse since I could then sleep in, hang out all day and watch sports, or go to the gym or for a bike ride or run while he was slaving away at the shop. Maybe chicks really do have this figured out.

Sometimes after a hummer, Dave would grab and spoon me and fall back asleep, which was awkward but I couldn't get away. More often than not, I could slip away back to my room, rinse out my mouth and either go back to sleep or get up and start breakfast.

It always amazed me when I would come down for breakfast after our morning sessions, and he would just act like a buddy who shares a place. He'd talk smack about guys we know, or how the teams he followed were doing, the new hunting rifle he wanted to buy or an upcoming fishing trip, or the lift kit he wanted to put on his truck. It never seemed to cross his mind that he had just blown his load in my mouth a few minutes earlier, while forcing to me to dress as his girlfriend.

A few mornings were more difficult. I can remember Dave getting up early one morning and was already downstairs. I felt a sense of relief that I wouldn't have to give him a BJ that morning and could just go back to sleep until he left, but then I heard a yell: "Brian, get down here, would ya."

I got up reluctantly and went downstairs, just in my pyjamas.

"Hey what's up?"

"I have to get into work early this morning, but I am need of some servicing, so just kneel down here and suck me while I am having breakfast and I'll see if I can manage a blow."

"Jesus, Dave, really, do I ha..."

Before I could finish my sentence Dave barked, "Listen, get down on your knees, or it's going to get worse, Ok? You know the deal. I'm the one paying the bills. And you need to at least have a camisole on, and look like a girl. I don't want some dude sucking me, so head back upstairs pronto and let's get this done."

God, I thought, this man has the mind of a fucking pyscho and the sex drive of a raging bull.

I went back upstairs, tossed my PJs and selected a cream coloured camisole with black lace trim and matching panties from the drawer. I had to do a quick tuck first so there would be no bulge; he wouldn't stand for that. I slipped into sheer black nylons I know he likes me to wear and a pair of strappy three inch heels. Good to go, I thought looking in the mirror. I took a quick drink of water and headed back down.

Dave was sitting at the table, his legs spread apart, his jeans and boxers around his ankles, his semi-erect dick facing skyward. He was even turned to the table, eating his toast and reading a newspaper.

Jesus, it's come to this.

I put a pillow in between his legs and kneeled in front of him, wasting no time to have his dick in my mouth. I started straight into my routine, fondling his balls to speed things up a bit. As he always does, he grabbed the back of my head and shoved his dick into me, part of the little power ritual that turns him on. At his insistence, I had been growing my hair out, and he could now grab a handful at the back.

"This is nice," he said, "I can make a ponytail here...it's super sexy to fuck a chick with a ponytail, just watching it bob up and down when she is blowing you is super hot. When this gets a bit longer, I'll get Becky to give you some blonde highlights and keep this in a ponytail or even pull it up in a bun with a nice clasp. That's always a classy look on a lady."

With a mouthful of his cock in me, I couldn't respond, but just bore down on him, sucking deeply.

'That's it, nice..." he said driving into me. I thought we were going to get this done pretty quick, but he seemed not be able to cum and was getting frustrated.

"Come on...suck it."

There was not much more I could do, but I could tell by the way he was moving both his hands to the sides of my head that this was going to get a bit rough. Sticky globs of saliva were starting to drool from my lips, which always happens when he is taking longer or driving deep into me.

"The morning BJ is a really good reason I keep you around Brian," he said, reaching down to pull the camisole up over my ass and reveal my panties and nylons. "Rebecca would never do this. She'd have some excuse and stay in bed, or say I was a pig and should just go jack off," he added, sliding his hand over my ass and giving my pantied ass a squeeze.

"But you really get it. You're a guy, and know the importance of a good blow job to make a man's day," he said slapping my ass with a hard smack, and guiding my face onto his cock with the other.

"Wouldn't every guy want to have a hummer to start the day from a little hottie like you? Just hang ups that we insist it be a girl. Mouths are all the same, and in your case, extra sweet. With attention to good grooming and nice clothes, you look as smooth and sexy as any girl, right?"

Sick fuck, I thought. He shoved his cock deeper, causing me to gag. That always turns him on.

"I could just fuck your face all day long, and you would just lap it up wouldn't you?" he chuckled, grabbing my hair in a tuft and shoving me on to him. "You love to choke on my meat every day. No actual girl would do that."

I nodded my head, not able to speak.

"I can tell you really enjoy these morning hummers. It's a great little start to the day, like a protein shake."

I bobbed my head again. He loved the humiliation. It really turned him on, and I wasn't about to discourage it, if would get this over with.

"I thought so...it's been so fun to break you and make you my little bitch."

He shoved harder now, all the way in, holding me head against him, his thick cut dick hard against the back of my throat. He always leaned forward to watch the final few inches go in, savoring the sight of my throat expand to take his helmet and shaft, especially as I gagged and my throat bulged to take the last few inches, my lips backing up against his balls. Such a power trip for him.

Although I've gotten used to it now, it's always an uncomfortable feeling to deepthroat his full cock the first time in each session, my throat fighting against the sensation of being impaled, and I can't hold him there for long. He's a big guy, and my jaw aches from the stretch to take him down my throat, and I feel on the edge of choking, which is of course, part of what he really loves. When my throat is good and stretched, my body responds with gushers of thick stringy saliva, drooling from my lips. Dave likes that too.

I stroked his balls, and could feel him rising. I kept stroking, and finally he started to buck and spill. "Fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUUCK!!", he moaned, bucking violently as loads of jism poured into me and I swallowed hard, gagging from the pressure in my throat and the streams of cum filling my mouth.

For the life of me, I don't know why I ended up with a guy who seems to have a cock like a firehose. Just my luck. Surely, most guys can't squirt 4 or 5 times and produce a mouth load of cum, every time, even if they had a hummer twenty four hours or even twelve hours earlier. I know I need recharge time, but not Dave. When he starts to geyser, I always know I will have to swallow a lot, at least twice, maybe three times, before he stops blowing jism into me, otherwise there would be a lot of choking on fluids and spillage. It's the full meal deal every time.

I had also gotten to know the taste and smell of his spunk pretty well. He takes good care of himself, so generally his semen is not unpleasant to taste, although I would never had admitted that when he was first breaking me in. If he is eating especially well and is fully hydrated, his jism is voluminous but silky smooth and easy to swallow with really no taste or smell at all. It's taken me a while to come around to the idea, but on days like that, especially if he cums quick, the whole experience is not that unpleasant, honestly.

In fact, it occurred to me, if most guys knew that, they would take better care of themselves and insist their chicks give them more head. I think most dudes think their load is nasty, and although we really want our chicks to swallow, we feel we can't expect it of them. Just hydrate well, eat your veggies, and give it to her boys.

What used to completely repulse me was now, well, I won't say easy or pleasant, but was doable, at least on the good days. At other times, if Dave was dehydrated or stressed, ate too much red meat, or drank too much coffee, his semen had a strong salty taste and acidity. The worst was when he drinking a lot of alcohol and eating shitty fast food as well, or he was really stressed. Then his jism was nasty and hard to swallow, but I would always choke it down, sometimes gagging a bit as it slipped down my throat.

Much to my acute embarrassment, Dave had insisted on a little experiment a few weeks back to test the theory that you can make your spunk more tasty. After a week or two of trying different foods and drinks, and taking one for the team, I can report that it is true: being vegetarian, drinking lots of water, and drinking the odd cup of pineapple or other sweet juices, all else being equal, does make a man's cum more tasty, or at least more palatable. Eating fast food, like hamburgers and pizza, especially nitrated meats, and drinking lots of alcohol, will make me gag for sure. Dave's pretty good, but he drinks a glass of pineapple juice every day now. I insist. We don't talk about it, but it's part of our arrangement.

Now that I recall, Dave was incredibly annoying about that whole experiment. We'd be watching ball, talking about the trades and how the Red Sox are doing, having a few beers, and Dave would suddenly slap my arm in a friendly way, and switch topics: "Hey, how was my load this morning anyway, was the asparagus noticeable? Did the pineapple make a difference?" Bastard.

With the final quick jerks, I had all of him for the day, licking and and sucking him dry with a pop as I pulled off of him. He fell back against the kitchen chair with a sigh and I did the obligatory suck and lick of each of his ball sacks.

Usually Dave liked to cum fully into me with my mouth wrapped around his cock and I would take his load straight down my throat. Once in a while, though, he liked to spray me, and I could usually tell when he was in that kind of mood. More often than not, he would have had a few drinks and I would be in a particularly feminine or frilly dress and high heel shoes. That seemed to inspire him to line up a facial.

He would get me to kneel on the floor, and make sure my posture was straight. He really hated it when I slouched like a guy when I was dressed up and insisted I have good posture like a lady. He would hold my chin, and rest his cock on my outstretched tongue, standing in front of me. He seemed to take great pleasure in working his way up to a face shot, degrading me as much as possible as he jerked himself off in front of me, making me hold my tongue out in anticipation.

"Is my girl wanting a little moisturizer today?" he'd say, always waiting until his cock was inside me so I really couldn't answer but I would moan and nod, which egged him on.

When he had worked up to a good lather, he would stroke his cock hard in front of me, his grip firm and determined as he pulled the skin repeatedly up over his helmet. From this distance, I could see every bulging vein on his giant cock. Any sort of pre-cum leak was not wasted, as he smeared my lips to a nice shine.

Every guy has known a lifetime of jerking off, but there is something horrifying about watching the technique from a few inches away, knowing those jiggling balls that have been clanking around in a guy's underwear all day are working up a fury to unload their stash onto your face and into your mouth, and every little drip is going to be breakfast.

When I could see his back begin to arch and his face redden, I knew to open wide and close my eyes. Within seconds, gushes of stringy cum would hit me, sometimes starting in my hair and draining down my face, or into my eyes, making me wince. Dave would often intentionally give me the first shot for maximum effect across my face, but was usually quick to adjust his aim, so the second, third and fourth load would pour into my mouth, at least most of it, the rest trailing across my face, dripping to the floor or hanging in long stringy droplets. When he hadn't cum for a few days, he would have ridiculous volume, flooding my whole face like I'd had a bucket of cum thrown at me.

I had learned to wait till he was done, because sometimes a late squirt would hit me in the eye with a sting or go up my nose. When he was good and done, I would wait, not moving, as I knew Dave liked to admire his handy work. He really loved the look of cum all over my face. Sometimes he would snap a few pics if he was especially impressed with his workmanship.

After a while, he would say "Ok" and that was my cue to run my fingers across my face, scooping the pools of his cum into my mouth. He would watch me intently and get upset if I missed any, so I was careful to show him that I was attentive to the details of not missing a drop, sucking his cum off my fingers for affect.

On the big load days, he would sometimes get me to smear his load all over my face so I had a wet shine like a complete moisturizer, and would always snap a few pics, adjusting to get the right light bouncing off the wetness, with at least a glob or two on my extended tongue. What a perv. Once he made me let his load dry on my face until it started to crack, which made him laugh, but generally he didn't want to waste any and wanted me to take him all down while his jism was fresh.

He no longer had to ask me to show him when I had cleaned up. I was obedient now, finishing off back in a squat with nice posture, my eyes resting on my nyloned thighs, or skirt hem, opening my eyes and my mouth as much as I could, to show him the proud pools of his baby batter on my tongue and mouth. Sometimes he would tell me to gargle, which I really hated to do, as it always made me gag and want to vomit, the semen frothing up in my mouth and sometimes spilling a bit past my lips.

"Ok, swallow now, that's a good girl."

Back when first started to use me, I used to really wince when he told me to swallow, fighting back a gag reflex as I choked back the semen pool in my mouth. That still happens on those bad days when his cum is a bit nasty, or when I momentarily realize the predicament of my sick relationship with him. These days, I can usually consume most of his load in one or two big gulps, no problem. Sometimes it takes a third try to clean up the stragglers.

I then lick my lips and end with a smile. "Have a good day at work Dave," I say, slipping away, straightening out my camisole as I head back upstairs to get some more sleep, my work done for the day.

"Thanks babe, see you after work," he'll reply, grabbing his lunch and heading out to his truck.

When he was gone, I would change out of Rebecca's clothes and get on with my day, thankful that at least he wasn't asking more of me than just blowjobs.

____________

Dave's been getting pretty antsy lately about my diet. He's made lots of comments about my weight, and how I look so much better when I'm trim, how some of Rebecca's clothes look a little tight on me, and maybe he should trade me in for a younger model.

I just ignored him, chicks might fall for that shit, but not me asshole. Nice try.

A couple of days ago, when he was at work, I did catch myself looking at my ass in the mirror, though, with a particularly cute pair of Rebecca's Lululemon tights on. She must have a bank loan just to finance her Lululemon collection, it's amazing. This shit is not cheap either, but I had to admit, there is something addictive about trying on different pairs and seeing how your ass looks.

Being forced to cross dress every day has really impressed on me the amazing variety of clothes women have and how many looks you can together. No wonder women get obsessed with it. I never liked malls, but Heather would drag me there sometimes and I'd watch the women browsing through clothing stores, like crazed wasps. There's no way they would make eye contact with a boyfriend hanger-on like me.

They were like a pack of wolves, closing in for the shopping slaughter. I could get killed on any given Saturday if I got between them and the Wunder Under Hi Rise Full-On Luxtreme tights on sale, or bumped their non-fat, half sweet personal Peppermint Mocha Latte. Sometimes I would get the 'Look' - Oh, Would You Just Get Out of the Way and Sit in the Obligatory Sofa in the Corner for Clueless Dudes - and would go sit on the sofa in the corner of the store waiting for Heather, checking baseball scores on my iPhone next to the some other poor schmuck.