The Art and Privilege of Cock Sucking- Part 2
The Skydove. A very classy high rise hotel, 67 floors up, peaking into the night sky. Brandishing a regal decor like something from the 1980s which should’ve vanished from the world, it looks down upon an ocean of city life luminescence. Though no eyes from below can see up into the windows, the shades are drawn, if for nothing else to enhance the intimate privacy of what’s to come.
It’d been a surprisingly enjoyable day. That elusive raven, Rebecca, from the local humble donut shop, Fluff’n’Stuff, who periodically appears to make the most delicious donut holes known to mankind agreed for a date. A simple affair, merely to get to know each other. Innocent in itself.Yet, during the course of the accompanying dinner, a series of discreetly intimate facts have been revealed. Facts that open the door to a curiosity that cannot so easily be brushed under the carpet. A consensual agreement is hammered out on the spot. . .and the night is now devoted to the pure pleasures of uninhibited exploration. . .
I find myself now sitting on the edge of the bed, decked in nothing more than a soft white bathrobe, hands flatpalmed into the blankets behind me. Such soft blankets have never before graced my thighs. Quite the experience. I feel myself trembling. It’s not from nervousness or anxiety though. Pure excitement from what’s to come. From the relief that’ll be obtained from satisfying a hunger that’s stalked me like a murderer with the Devil’s patience. I can hear the flow of shower water in the room beyond, and yet I find myself praying it’ll never turn off. That that bathroom door handle will never click and open, because what awaits is just too erotically fantastic to bear. And yet, even as I try to calm myself. . .I hear that telling click. . .
The door opens.
With a dainty delicateness that the female foot is known for, Rebecca slides out. There’s a lethe mischievousness in her step as she waltzes forward, hands converting to knuckles as she defiantly places them on her hips, grinning at me with such a pompous expression.
”Welllll? What do you think? Absolutely delicious, aren’t I?” I can’t help but love the insufferably condescending tone she fires off, unable to completely bleed out the melodious warmth that comes with it. In response, my own face gives her a warm smile, trying my best to hold back the lust I feel. And yet, in seconds, my perverse urges take over, and I find myself on two knees, sliding over to her with as much grace as I can muster. Reaching her, my eager hands slide to the sides of her own bathrobe, which looks much better on her than me.
For a moment, she looks down at me with some small shock, pleasantly caught off guard by such a direct approach. A knowing, coy smile soon enough, however, graces her lips, and she nods to me. Gently, I push her backwards so that she’s backed up against the wall.
Wasting no time, my hands softly plow their way into the warmth of her bathrobe and land against the sheer damp softness of her outer bare thighs, immediately loving their kissable suppleness. There’s a mildly toned, sunkissed texture about her complexion, cognizant of a race I can’t identify, nor care to. My fingers squeeeeze, rubbbbb, and very tenderly massage her outer thighs in a way that leaves no mistake about what my disgusting intentions are. . .and she obliges. Slowly, her hands begin to untie the knot keeping me at bay. . .and what’s revealed leaves me utterly speechless.
A pair of luscious, fleshy, curvaceous thighs in all their supple, completely naked glory are laid bare before my face. Instead of the plain boringness of perfect skin, their completely kissable landscape is littered with blemishes, freckles, landmarks that firmly establish her beautiful body’s unmistakable uniqueness in all the world. And very cruelly, oh so arrogantly crammed between those thighs amidst a generous bush of midnight black pubic fur. . .is suuuuuch a beautifully sculptured penis. A lusciously hung slab of raw girl cock more fit for a museum of fine arts. There’s a certain rugged lusciousness about its girthy, meaty shape that almost seems out of place, as if to suggest it’d been torn directly from between the thighs of a bull. Of more interest, however, is that it’s currently completely flaccid. Why does that make me so happy?
Unable to keep my fervent appreciation for this divine sight in check any longer, I lean in, and simply nuzzle my cheeks against the warm skin of the thighs before me. Her godlike cock is sooo close to my nose and mouth right now, I can literally smell the soap on her chubby balls. I love soft things, embarrassingly so, and, closing my eyes, my cheeks just slide back and forth, enjoying the heat of her body. My hands, however, never resting from the wickedness of their works, now push deeper into the confines of her bathrobe. Sliding from the sides of her thighs to the backs of them, just below the curves of her buttocks, my nails dig into the meet of her rear thighs and squeeze, perhaps a bit harsher so than I need to. Immediately, I feel her entire body tense, steel up before calming. And yet, in that second, the damage has been done. . .and a most wonderful confession is unapologetically forced from between her legs. . .
The erection of an annoyed, angered, irritated penis is akin to a sunrise. Once it begins, there’s just no stopping it. As it rises to full glory, it’s spell binding, mystical, timeless, and sooooo delicious. . .
Rebecca makes no attempt whatsoever to hide her swelling girth from my face. Just the opposite, she pushes her now naked hips forward in a way that makes me see every last inch of it’s still swelling length. The thickened spiderweb network of veins pumping such precious blood into it to solidify its rise to power. And then, in no hands-swinging fashion, she slings it at me and slaps me across the face with it as she has every single godgiven right to. Caught off guard, I whimper like the suddenly useless bitch I find out on the spot I’ve been all my life. She looks down at me in a very bluntly expecting way that confirms what we both know my entire useless existence has been groomed for. There’s no negotiation, no bargaining. We both need her penis worshipped. Unquestionably. Immediately. Right there. On the spot. Right. Fucking. Yesterday.
Time to get to work.
First of all, I need to get my ass in gear. Proper perspective. THIS. . .is not porn penis on a screen from somewhere half around the world. This is not the dick of some famous actor, like the eternally illustrious Barbie Woods, who rides and grinds dick better than anyone who has ever existed. This is the penis that is LITERALLY right in front of my face, and needs, and very rightfully deserves to be treated with more oral loving kindness than a mother with her baby. Right then and there, reflecting on the multitude of unforgivable fuckups by dick blowing pioneers past, I establish three rules, followed by a three-stage agenda on the spot.
RULES:
1. NO fucking hands allowed on the penis. Ever.
2. There is no such thing as too much lube or saliva. Ever
3. Proper hand placement/usage is absolutely mandatory at all fucking times.
AGENDA:
1. Complete, unconditional cock cleaning.
2. Vigorous focused cock preparation.
3. Solemn penis worship.
For the first rule, I’d made a solid realization, namely, that there is nothing, NOTHING, N O T H I N G the hands and fingers can do for a cock that the mouth and tongue can’t do three through four times better, but with the addition of warm saliva. The skin of the shaft and balls is to be treated to nothing but the softest stimulation of the tongue and lips. This immediately led into the second rule, no such thing as too much lube. Friction, set against the sensational enjoyment of slipperiness, is an enemy that must be eliminated as much as possible. If that goes for the lower orifices, it should also go for the oral one. As such, simply lathering a cock for gratuitous suck off isn't sufficient. Getting it thoroughly wet isn’t acceptable either. Until every single last inch of the erected penis is dripping with saliva, my job isn’t done.
The last rule, I genuinely feel, is the puppeteer behind the scenes that cancels out the concept of submissiveness/dominance during oral administration. Depending on the placement of hands and what they’re doing, one can completely drive the situation in a direction of their choosing. Say, for example, one is enjoying the pleasures of intense deepthroat, so that the nose and chin are pressed up against the torso of the other lover. Are the hands simply kept inactive at the side? Of course not. Think about the physical impact and raw pleasure as those nails are dug into the clenching, flexing, squeezing cheeks of the pumping playmate, grappled into the skin like 10 tiny acupuncturing needles, forcing the buried cock to stiffen even more, the thighs to more intensely thrust, while placement on the sides and backs of the thighs might induce the motions of pumping, rutting.
With these delicious concepts in mind, my mouth begins to kiss Rebecca’s thighs. Slowly. Deeply. We have the entire night to ourselves, so there is absolutely no need to rush. My fingers and palms continue squeezing and massaging the backs of her thighs, properly keeping her in my face, and I feel her back slide downward slightly against the wall, keeping her pelvis thrusted outward for further enjoyment.
My kisses pepper and press all along the sides of her swelling she-dick without so much as touching its throbbing length even slightly. Openly I tease her, fluctuating the pressure and pressing of each kiss, putting deeply vibrational moans into each, effectively ‘MmmMmMmmmmmm-ing’ so that she can feel it all through the skin. Opening my mouth, I breathe my hot breath all over those balls, that plump fattened sack of hers, warning her of what shameful naughtiness is in her chunky balls’ immediate future. God. . .I can’t fucking wait to get started. . .
The first thing that needs to be taken care of. . .is proper cock cleaning. Yes, I’m very conscious a shower has just been taken. Yes, I can still feel the dampness of the warm water, the excitingly fresh scent of dove soap intertwined with the aphrodisiac-like female musk of those plump orbs. THAT. . .doesn’t matter. Because until my tongue and lips personally certify, confirm proper hygiene, I can’t guarantee the cleaning jobs been effectively executed. As such, sliding my hands between Rebecca’s thighs, I slightly ply them apart to grant my face deeper access, then go right for her balls.
A two step process is initiated. Kisses first, scouring, then the tongue, cleaning. With the reckless abandonment of a dog, I begin sniffing that fattened sack of hers, letting myself get hopelessly inebriated on her yummy dick’s scent. Closing my eyes like a slut in heat, I encourage her thighs to slide forward, rubbing those soft balls alllllllll over the territory of my face, forcibly making me bare the flag of her musky scent. As that hefty sack slides forward, resting its weight on my nose, lips, eyes in a very soft pressing back and forth motion, I simply moan in appreciation and pleasure, offering devout kisses each time they come within reach. Not soft kisses anymore, but deep, hard ones that press my lips deep into, in between the plump orbs.
As Rebecca’s sack marks its territory all over my face, my lips decide to do something very special for her. Puckering them, I completely drive my face directly up between her spread thighs, directly behind her balls, and put a very very harsh kiss right up into that most hidden of all areas, her perineum gland. Soooooooooo often is this very precious area, just thriving with stimulatory potential overlooked. The external gateway to that most sought after of g-spots, the prostate gland. Multiple times, I shove kisses RIGHT up between her cheeks, until she fiiiiinally gets a fucking clue. . .and pushes back. Stiffening my neck, I let her satisfy her urges and give my face a firm ride, humping, even as I continue pounding kisses into that most vulnerable of sexual sweet spots. Sure enough, right before my eyes, her beautiful cock reaches full mast, filled to the brim with hot blood and randy eagerness, absolutely demanding to be played with, manipulated, and abused. Things that. . .for the moment, must be ignored.
Work before pleasure. Always.
Thats when I make her feel the joys of raw tongue. It slips between her cheeks and balls like a murderous ninja in the night, not announcing its sloppy presence until there’s no way whatsoever to defend. I lap away at her perineum for a moment, then pull its wet surface forward. . .and begin licking her allllllllllllllllll over her balls. Shamelessly, I lick away at her salty skin, in no uncertain terms letting her know I want the very literal SWEAT off of them. Try as I might, my sissified mouth simply can not get enough of that wonderful softness, and in a heartbeat, and in a heartbeat, I find my lips gobbling up that fattened sack whole. My sloppy maw moans over every inch of those orbs, my tongue dancing and layering away like a most gracious host, bathing them in the warmest saliva my mouth can generate. A moment later, each ball is slowly pulled out the warmth of my mouth, giving a generously sloppy ‘plop’ upon exit, dripping with stringed translucent bridges of oral slime.
Finally, it’s time to begin attending to that needy slab of she dick that’s soooo patiently been slinging’& swingin’ in the air. I start my oral assault on the underside, where I know the nerve endings to be most sensitive to direct pressurized stimulation. Nothing, nothing, but wet, sloppy tongue cradles and caresses the bottom side, licking eeeevery single last vein like a meaty lollipop, actively searching for salt and sweat. The skin just tastes soooooooooooooo fucking good to my mouth as I give it the proper lathering, cleaning it righteously deserves. This intimate licking, I know with all my soul, is nothing but a privilege, and that I better show fucking appreciation for every inch of it.
Gradually, with each dog like lapping of phalluical flesh, cleaning converts to the second stage. Preparation. My hands once more slide to the backs of Rebecca’s thighs, pulling her loins forward, while my tongue takes the time to intimately get to know each and every last one of the pulsating veins on her she-dick. I love the way they feel, all nubby and warm against my tongue’s skin, and I lick against their nubby surface like sweet malted ice cream. Mmmmmmm. . .
For five sweet minutes that realllllly need to last for an entire day, I’m allowed to lick the very skin off her dick. The sweetheart she is, she doesn’t rush me even slightly. It seems she subconsciously knows I need this, need the warmth of her pacifying penis worse than air itself. . .and she lets me have it. Never in my life have I had such appreciation for a material object, and this loving queen of a woman feeds me, physically, like the goddess she is. But enough is enough. The groundwork has been laid. It’s time for fucking worship.
My hands slide to the front of her legs and grapple in, prying her further apart, even as her back sinks further down the wall. There’s suuuuuuch a look of intense seriousness on her face right now. An urgent and curiously unsure one. She knows. She can feel it. Spider-Man senses going off alll over her body. We both know. We both are cognizant of the fact that in mere seconds, my filthy sissy mouth is about to do things to her penis with a hateful intensity that have never, nor probably will ever be done again. I watch the very spit drip off her organ. I’m not at all into self proclaimed head pats, but by god have I done a good job with the lathering, preparing her for the oral breeding that’s about to take place. Once more, her body confesses its sins, for right in front of my eyes, her throbbing girl cock oozing out a generous bead of pre-snot. I literally watch it pulse out and dribble, and in less than a second, my tongue does its job removing it. More so than merely licking it away, however, my lips pucker and go right for the tip, suspecting her swollen dick has more to give, and sure enough, I suckle another teaspoon’s worth directly out her urethra. At first, I wanna swallow it down. Yet, I carefully spit it onto the tip of her head, then lick it all over the upper side’s length.
And now, panting like a worn out Doberman bitch under too hot a sun, I open my mouth for her uninhibited, practically masturbatorial enjoyment. I let her see every inch of where she’s about to plow her throbbing shecock, a dark liquified cave that gives off no light. My hands are now rubbing the fronts of her thighs closest to her upper loins, squeezing and encouraging her to rut my face right on the spot. I can suddenly feel her butt cheeks stiffen, tense up, even as saliva drips off the tip of her head. . .and she plows forward. In one amazing second. . .my mouth is filled with more warm loving penis than it’s ever hosted on my entire life. It’s like the best, most expensive, most delicious sausage at my favorite uncle’s yearly barbecue, the first one on the grill. . .and it’s just sooooo soooooo good. . .
It takes my mouth a few seconds to fully embrace the fact I have another person’s penis in there, one who’s deliberately entrusted me with it exclusively for the reason of giving them pleasure. As this fact sinks in, my brain and hearing go numb, blind. . .and I become a creature of pure reflex and sexual instinct. Once more, my hands and fingers readjust to the flow of the moment, sliding around to the sides of Rebecca’s thighs to aid her pumping. I can feel them stiffen as my mouth and lips lovingly close all around the length of her cock. She’s a big girl, a stud, brandishing 9 inches of heathen meat. My mouth takes in five inches immediately, but we both no that’s not satisfactory. . .so I gobble up 6, 7, 8 inches, immediately choking like the fucking amateur I am. Still, as my eyes cross, I actually see a look of annoyance on her face, a veritable pout on her lips. Not until all 10 inches of her 9 inch penis are claustrophobically entombed down my larynx does she give me suuuuuuch a disdaining, condescending look, as if to say, with no words “Do your fucking job, God.” It’s only then, even as my lips kiss her lower abdomen, no visible sign of her penis any longer present. . .that I notice her hand tactically planted behind my head. . .locking me in place.
The first of a series of gags echos up from my untrained esophagus as my bobbing head pleads with that hand that so mercilessly says ‘No.’ My own fingers squeeeezs her thighs at the sides, trying to detach from her erect organ. Not only does she not concede, but she makes me take more of it, which, according to the laws of measurement, shouldn’t be possible. The lovingly sadistic look in her eyes seems to inform me of an unstated rule: ‘I. . .adjust for her. She. . .does NOT adjust for me.’
She’s patient with me. Doesn’t move her hips for a second. Yet the grip of her hand, fingers so harshly tugging my hair, is unconditional, nonnegotiable. For a moment, literal panic sets in, and I imagine they’ll find my body in the morning. Yet my nostrils have their own contingency plan. . .and after I simply surrender to my fate and relax, they start working. It’s at that I see a smirk appear on her lips. Then, and ONLY then, does she retract her penis out my trembling maw. Her eyes actually seem proud of me. “You’re learning.”, they seem to say, and while I personally feel I just had a life and death experience, suddenly, I’m soooooooooooo eager for round two to apply what I just experienced. Immediately, she forcefeeds me raw, unprotected penis once again, alll the way right back down my throat. . .and holds it in place. I calm myself, knowing exactly what to do. . .and for the first time, I’m treated to that one sound I’ve wanted to hear from the moment I’d said hello at the door: A genuine moan of deepest pleasure right from her lips. In spite of that hand that’s returned spitefully to the back of my head, I see her eyes roll in filthy pleasure as her head sinks back against the wall. That’s the look I want. That’s the look I need more than her. Her thighs now spread a bit more, her feet sinking into the plushness of the carpet like a secured gun turret. Allowed to pull my head back, trusting that I won’t abandon her pulsating piston, I’m sanctioned to begin sucking her off. . .
At first, Rebecca delegates 100% of the workload to me. Manual labor. . .is not for the boss. She gazes down at me with suuuuuch an entitled, expectant look, a sexual Karen who demands, as she has every right, to have things her way. And so, my slutty sissy mouth gets to sucking that fat girlcock like my entire family’s lives depend on it.
I don’t blow. Blowing, with puffed hamster cheeks is a theatric, a visual ment to stimulate the eyes. I suckle. In the presence of the complete absence of friction, I begin suckling the skin of her penis, head, and 50% of the shaft in a way that immediately lets her know I’m soooo conscious that she’s holding back all that yummy creamy girl-custard so deep inside her thighs. My fish-like sucking lips slide all over her shaft like a rubbery glove that’s had chilled jello pumped into it, making her plunge her cock directly into the center again and again and again.
In a very short time, I’ve familiarized myself with the placement of her veins. I utilize the suction of my lips to directly stimulate, suck on each and every one of these, loving their striking nubbiness. Each time the skin of my lips is rubbed against them, reflexively, I secrete more saliva for her personal use on the spot, which is immediately applied to her dick. My eyes close. . .and I begin establishing my own rhythm of slow, sloppy suckage.. . .that is, until her hips begin singing their own perverse melody. It’s then that I feel that commanding hand once more reassert its authority over all that I am or ever will be. . .
Rebecca’s hips begin to rut. Pump directly into my mouth, even while her neck cranes back, consciousness headed for some far away plain of existence. This is no longer oral sex. THIS. . is masturbation. There’s only one person in the room right now. . .and it’s not me. And I’m so okay with that.
I can feel her thighs tightening with each pumping plow into that warm, wet, slimy ocean of saliva and skin that is my mouth, the presence of friction long gone from her private little world. Repositioning of my fingers is required, and I know exactly where they need to go. Effortlessly, I slide them RIGHT back behind her to that candy ass I so desperately want to shower with kisses. It’s soooo important for the buttcheeks to be squeezed, clawed, scratched, stabbed, pricked, and slapped during the more intense stages of fellatio. . .because THATS what gets the blood riled. THATS what gets the recipient angry, annoyed, so as to take it out on the sloppy hole it’s plowing. And sure enough, as my hands treated Rebecca’s ass with such cruelty, her loins immediately took it out on my throat as she facefucked me with a vengeance. And thaaaaats where I sensed she made her first and last mistake.
Too much unrestrained stimulation.
I caught that look in her eyes. That glassy look, the one generated when the individual knows they’ve gone too far but can’t stop. Where the stamina expenditure is just too much too fast. Too much greed. Too much lust. Too much desire. Where the application of the sexual breaks no longer does jack shit.
Premature ejaculation.
Sooooo fervently did the poor woman try to dislodge her cock from the depths of my throat as muscles even I couldn’t control squeezed and milked her girth. Outside, her gorgeous chubby thighs bucked and thrashed about violently, like a horse introduced to spurs to shark for its buxom ass. Turnabout is such fucking fair play, and my fingers now did to her thrashing, lusciously twitching buttcheeks exactly what that pompous, stuck up little hand of hers had done to my head. No relenting. No concession. No mercy.
In seconds, my mouth’s dick sucking converted to raw, pressurized milking, completely ignoring the raven’s cries for salvation. She. . .had sperm. And by GOD did I want it. Directly from the source. No fucking pull out and jerk off this time. No nonononono. No fucking theatrics, pumping on the tongue for me to proudly bear to the cameraman before swallowing. Here, in the privacy of the hotel room. . .I would suck it right out her balls. . .until she hand nothing left to give. In finalizing desperation, I felt her dig her nails into my shoulders, her hips thrashing so much as I squeezed and clawed her naked ass under her bathrobe, hard enough to leave grievous marks in her beautiful skin before slapping her ass with open palmed stinging smacks.
At last, throwing back her head, eyes crossed in almost comical agony, muscles all over locking up so intensely she couldn’t get off the scream, this absolute goddess of a woman gave up her soul. . .and jusssssst e x p l o d e d in my mouth. You would not believe the feeling of her suddenly steel buttcheeks in the palms of my hands as she vomited out her very soul through her pulsating penis. And here I was, with my face, and much much more importantly, my mouth, right at ground zero.
The first pumping snots out her urethra like a runny nose but with much much thicker mucus, more ooooozing than eruption. The second release in no way follows this pattern, but gushes out like a fat person falling on a fresh tube of toothpaste from two stories up. Gelled tapioca pudding of the sweetest nature, just pumped right down my throat. Even before the first ejaculatory gushing, however, the thing that ruins me in the most wonderful way. . .is that warning twitch, which both my throat and mouth feel from all over her shaft. It lasts no longer than 1-2 seconds, but in those moments, I am treated to the pleasure of her entire body. Her intensity. Her lust. Her depravity. Her urgency. The absolute summit of her pleasure, right from between her legs. Those beautiful veins lined all around her shaft, throbbing sooo vivaciously. The shaft, choking, backed up, rupturing, spasming, pulsating, throbbing…..all. . .in the still sucking confines of my mouth.
I can literally feel the snare on her face as she pumps her load down my throat. In seconds, I can feel the authority of her hand return as my hair and head are held in place to make me take all, every last fucking bit of what she has to give. . .and she has a lot. Her volume and texture are incredible as that smothered penis pumps and vomits off again and again and again and again and again and again and again. Suuuuch a wicked she-stud, ravenously beautiful, primal as a fucking horse. For nearly an entire minute, she feeds my trembling throat raw DNA. . .before at last subsiding, sinking back against the wall. Swallowing every single last bit, rapidly sucking the rest out her urethra directly, I rise just in time to catch her sinking body as it slides down the wall, then playfully swing her over to the comforting warmth of the bed, lovingly going right for her neck. I pity her for this initial strain on her body and pray she can shake it off. As things stand. .
. . .it’s going to be a very long night.
===================================
And that’s my idea of a decent blowjob. If you’ve actually read alllll the way to this point, bless you, and pardon my rambling. Pleasure is just such a wonderful thing to bestow upon another human being, and I love seeing it administered in a way that’s as satisfying to the soul as possible.
Stay safe, and know you’re loved.
It’d been a surprisingly enjoyable day. That elusive raven, Rebecca, from the local humble donut shop, Fluff’n’Stuff, who periodically appears to make the most delicious donut holes known to mankind agreed for a date. A simple affair, merely to get to know each other. Innocent in itself.Yet, during the course of the accompanying dinner, a series of discreetly intimate facts have been revealed. Facts that open the door to a curiosity that cannot so easily be brushed under the carpet. A consensual agreement is hammered out on the spot. . .and the night is now devoted to the pure pleasures of uninhibited exploration. . .
I find myself now sitting on the edge of the bed, decked in nothing more than a soft white bathrobe, hands flatpalmed into the blankets behind me. Such soft blankets have never before graced my thighs. Quite the experience. I feel myself trembling. It’s not from nervousness or anxiety though. Pure excitement from what’s to come. From the relief that’ll be obtained from satisfying a hunger that’s stalked me like a murderer with the Devil’s patience. I can hear the flow of shower water in the room beyond, and yet I find myself praying it’ll never turn off. That that bathroom door handle will never click and open, because what awaits is just too erotically fantastic to bear. And yet, even as I try to calm myself. . .I hear that telling click. . .
The door opens.
With a dainty delicateness that the female foot is known for, Rebecca slides out. There’s a lethe mischievousness in her step as she waltzes forward, hands converting to knuckles as she defiantly places them on her hips, grinning at me with such a pompous expression.
”Welllll? What do you think? Absolutely delicious, aren’t I?” I can’t help but love the insufferably condescending tone she fires off, unable to completely bleed out the melodious warmth that comes with it. In response, my own face gives her a warm smile, trying my best to hold back the lust I feel. And yet, in seconds, my perverse urges take over, and I find myself on two knees, sliding over to her with as much grace as I can muster. Reaching her, my eager hands slide to the sides of her own bathrobe, which looks much better on her than me.
For a moment, she looks down at me with some small shock, pleasantly caught off guard by such a direct approach. A knowing, coy smile soon enough, however, graces her lips, and she nods to me. Gently, I push her backwards so that she’s backed up against the wall.
Wasting no time, my hands softly plow their way into the warmth of her bathrobe and land against the sheer damp softness of her outer bare thighs, immediately loving their kissable suppleness. There’s a mildly toned, sunkissed texture about her complexion, cognizant of a race I can’t identify, nor care to. My fingers squeeeeze, rubbbbb, and very tenderly massage her outer thighs in a way that leaves no mistake about what my disgusting intentions are. . .and she obliges. Slowly, her hands begin to untie the knot keeping me at bay. . .and what’s revealed leaves me utterly speechless.
A pair of luscious, fleshy, curvaceous thighs in all their supple, completely naked glory are laid bare before my face. Instead of the plain boringness of perfect skin, their completely kissable landscape is littered with blemishes, freckles, landmarks that firmly establish her beautiful body’s unmistakable uniqueness in all the world. And very cruelly, oh so arrogantly crammed between those thighs amidst a generous bush of midnight black pubic fur. . .is suuuuuch a beautifully sculptured penis. A lusciously hung slab of raw girl cock more fit for a museum of fine arts. There’s a certain rugged lusciousness about its girthy, meaty shape that almost seems out of place, as if to suggest it’d been torn directly from between the thighs of a bull. Of more interest, however, is that it’s currently completely flaccid. Why does that make me so happy?
Unable to keep my fervent appreciation for this divine sight in check any longer, I lean in, and simply nuzzle my cheeks against the warm skin of the thighs before me. Her godlike cock is sooo close to my nose and mouth right now, I can literally smell the soap on her chubby balls. I love soft things, embarrassingly so, and, closing my eyes, my cheeks just slide back and forth, enjoying the heat of her body. My hands, however, never resting from the wickedness of their works, now push deeper into the confines of her bathrobe. Sliding from the sides of her thighs to the backs of them, just below the curves of her buttocks, my nails dig into the meet of her rear thighs and squeeze, perhaps a bit harsher so than I need to. Immediately, I feel her entire body tense, steel up before calming. And yet, in that second, the damage has been done. . .and a most wonderful confession is unapologetically forced from between her legs. . .
The erection of an annoyed, angered, irritated penis is akin to a sunrise. Once it begins, there’s just no stopping it. As it rises to full glory, it’s spell binding, mystical, timeless, and sooooo delicious. . .
Rebecca makes no attempt whatsoever to hide her swelling girth from my face. Just the opposite, she pushes her now naked hips forward in a way that makes me see every last inch of it’s still swelling length. The thickened spiderweb network of veins pumping such precious blood into it to solidify its rise to power. And then, in no hands-swinging fashion, she slings it at me and slaps me across the face with it as she has every single godgiven right to. Caught off guard, I whimper like the suddenly useless bitch I find out on the spot I’ve been all my life. She looks down at me in a very bluntly expecting way that confirms what we both know my entire useless existence has been groomed for. There’s no negotiation, no bargaining. We both need her penis worshipped. Unquestionably. Immediately. Right there. On the spot. Right. Fucking. Yesterday.
Time to get to work.
First of all, I need to get my ass in gear. Proper perspective. THIS. . .is not porn penis on a screen from somewhere half around the world. This is not the dick of some famous actor, like the eternally illustrious Barbie Woods, who rides and grinds dick better than anyone who has ever existed. This is the penis that is LITERALLY right in front of my face, and needs, and very rightfully deserves to be treated with more oral loving kindness than a mother with her baby. Right then and there, reflecting on the multitude of unforgivable fuckups by dick blowing pioneers past, I establish three rules, followed by a three-stage agenda on the spot.
RULES:
1. NO fucking hands allowed on the penis. Ever.
2. There is no such thing as too much lube or saliva. Ever
3. Proper hand placement/usage is absolutely mandatory at all fucking times.
AGENDA:
1. Complete, unconditional cock cleaning.
2. Vigorous focused cock preparation.
3. Solemn penis worship.
For the first rule, I’d made a solid realization, namely, that there is nothing, NOTHING, N O T H I N G the hands and fingers can do for a cock that the mouth and tongue can’t do three through four times better, but with the addition of warm saliva. The skin of the shaft and balls is to be treated to nothing but the softest stimulation of the tongue and lips. This immediately led into the second rule, no such thing as too much lube. Friction, set against the sensational enjoyment of slipperiness, is an enemy that must be eliminated as much as possible. If that goes for the lower orifices, it should also go for the oral one. As such, simply lathering a cock for gratuitous suck off isn't sufficient. Getting it thoroughly wet isn’t acceptable either. Until every single last inch of the erected penis is dripping with saliva, my job isn’t done.
The last rule, I genuinely feel, is the puppeteer behind the scenes that cancels out the concept of submissiveness/dominance during oral administration. Depending on the placement of hands and what they’re doing, one can completely drive the situation in a direction of their choosing. Say, for example, one is enjoying the pleasures of intense deepthroat, so that the nose and chin are pressed up against the torso of the other lover. Are the hands simply kept inactive at the side? Of course not. Think about the physical impact and raw pleasure as those nails are dug into the clenching, flexing, squeezing cheeks of the pumping playmate, grappled into the skin like 10 tiny acupuncturing needles, forcing the buried cock to stiffen even more, the thighs to more intensely thrust, while placement on the sides and backs of the thighs might induce the motions of pumping, rutting.
With these delicious concepts in mind, my mouth begins to kiss Rebecca’s thighs. Slowly. Deeply. We have the entire night to ourselves, so there is absolutely no need to rush. My fingers and palms continue squeezing and massaging the backs of her thighs, properly keeping her in my face, and I feel her back slide downward slightly against the wall, keeping her pelvis thrusted outward for further enjoyment.
My kisses pepper and press all along the sides of her swelling she-dick without so much as touching its throbbing length even slightly. Openly I tease her, fluctuating the pressure and pressing of each kiss, putting deeply vibrational moans into each, effectively ‘MmmMmMmmmmmm-ing’ so that she can feel it all through the skin. Opening my mouth, I breathe my hot breath all over those balls, that plump fattened sack of hers, warning her of what shameful naughtiness is in her chunky balls’ immediate future. God. . .I can’t fucking wait to get started. . .
The first thing that needs to be taken care of. . .is proper cock cleaning. Yes, I’m very conscious a shower has just been taken. Yes, I can still feel the dampness of the warm water, the excitingly fresh scent of dove soap intertwined with the aphrodisiac-like female musk of those plump orbs. THAT. . .doesn’t matter. Because until my tongue and lips personally certify, confirm proper hygiene, I can’t guarantee the cleaning jobs been effectively executed. As such, sliding my hands between Rebecca’s thighs, I slightly ply them apart to grant my face deeper access, then go right for her balls.
A two step process is initiated. Kisses first, scouring, then the tongue, cleaning. With the reckless abandonment of a dog, I begin sniffing that fattened sack of hers, letting myself get hopelessly inebriated on her yummy dick’s scent. Closing my eyes like a slut in heat, I encourage her thighs to slide forward, rubbing those soft balls alllllllll over the territory of my face, forcibly making me bare the flag of her musky scent. As that hefty sack slides forward, resting its weight on my nose, lips, eyes in a very soft pressing back and forth motion, I simply moan in appreciation and pleasure, offering devout kisses each time they come within reach. Not soft kisses anymore, but deep, hard ones that press my lips deep into, in between the plump orbs.
As Rebecca’s sack marks its territory all over my face, my lips decide to do something very special for her. Puckering them, I completely drive my face directly up between her spread thighs, directly behind her balls, and put a very very harsh kiss right up into that most hidden of all areas, her perineum gland. Soooooooooo often is this very precious area, just thriving with stimulatory potential overlooked. The external gateway to that most sought after of g-spots, the prostate gland. Multiple times, I shove kisses RIGHT up between her cheeks, until she fiiiiinally gets a fucking clue. . .and pushes back. Stiffening my neck, I let her satisfy her urges and give my face a firm ride, humping, even as I continue pounding kisses into that most vulnerable of sexual sweet spots. Sure enough, right before my eyes, her beautiful cock reaches full mast, filled to the brim with hot blood and randy eagerness, absolutely demanding to be played with, manipulated, and abused. Things that. . .for the moment, must be ignored.
Work before pleasure. Always.
Thats when I make her feel the joys of raw tongue. It slips between her cheeks and balls like a murderous ninja in the night, not announcing its sloppy presence until there’s no way whatsoever to defend. I lap away at her perineum for a moment, then pull its wet surface forward. . .and begin licking her allllllllllllllllll over her balls. Shamelessly, I lick away at her salty skin, in no uncertain terms letting her know I want the very literal SWEAT off of them. Try as I might, my sissified mouth simply can not get enough of that wonderful softness, and in a heartbeat, and in a heartbeat, I find my lips gobbling up that fattened sack whole. My sloppy maw moans over every inch of those orbs, my tongue dancing and layering away like a most gracious host, bathing them in the warmest saliva my mouth can generate. A moment later, each ball is slowly pulled out the warmth of my mouth, giving a generously sloppy ‘plop’ upon exit, dripping with stringed translucent bridges of oral slime.
Finally, it’s time to begin attending to that needy slab of she dick that’s soooo patiently been slinging’& swingin’ in the air. I start my oral assault on the underside, where I know the nerve endings to be most sensitive to direct pressurized stimulation. Nothing, nothing, but wet, sloppy tongue cradles and caresses the bottom side, licking eeeevery single last vein like a meaty lollipop, actively searching for salt and sweat. The skin just tastes soooooooooooooo fucking good to my mouth as I give it the proper lathering, cleaning it righteously deserves. This intimate licking, I know with all my soul, is nothing but a privilege, and that I better show fucking appreciation for every inch of it.
Gradually, with each dog like lapping of phalluical flesh, cleaning converts to the second stage. Preparation. My hands once more slide to the backs of Rebecca’s thighs, pulling her loins forward, while my tongue takes the time to intimately get to know each and every last one of the pulsating veins on her she-dick. I love the way they feel, all nubby and warm against my tongue’s skin, and I lick against their nubby surface like sweet malted ice cream. Mmmmmmm. . .
For five sweet minutes that realllllly need to last for an entire day, I’m allowed to lick the very skin off her dick. The sweetheart she is, she doesn’t rush me even slightly. It seems she subconsciously knows I need this, need the warmth of her pacifying penis worse than air itself. . .and she lets me have it. Never in my life have I had such appreciation for a material object, and this loving queen of a woman feeds me, physically, like the goddess she is. But enough is enough. The groundwork has been laid. It’s time for fucking worship.
My hands slide to the front of her legs and grapple in, prying her further apart, even as her back sinks further down the wall. There’s suuuuuuch a look of intense seriousness on her face right now. An urgent and curiously unsure one. She knows. She can feel it. Spider-Man senses going off alll over her body. We both know. We both are cognizant of the fact that in mere seconds, my filthy sissy mouth is about to do things to her penis with a hateful intensity that have never, nor probably will ever be done again. I watch the very spit drip off her organ. I’m not at all into self proclaimed head pats, but by god have I done a good job with the lathering, preparing her for the oral breeding that’s about to take place. Once more, her body confesses its sins, for right in front of my eyes, her throbbing girl cock oozing out a generous bead of pre-snot. I literally watch it pulse out and dribble, and in less than a second, my tongue does its job removing it. More so than merely licking it away, however, my lips pucker and go right for the tip, suspecting her swollen dick has more to give, and sure enough, I suckle another teaspoon’s worth directly out her urethra. At first, I wanna swallow it down. Yet, I carefully spit it onto the tip of her head, then lick it all over the upper side’s length.
And now, panting like a worn out Doberman bitch under too hot a sun, I open my mouth for her uninhibited, practically masturbatorial enjoyment. I let her see every inch of where she’s about to plow her throbbing shecock, a dark liquified cave that gives off no light. My hands are now rubbing the fronts of her thighs closest to her upper loins, squeezing and encouraging her to rut my face right on the spot. I can suddenly feel her butt cheeks stiffen, tense up, even as saliva drips off the tip of her head. . .and she plows forward. In one amazing second. . .my mouth is filled with more warm loving penis than it’s ever hosted on my entire life. It’s like the best, most expensive, most delicious sausage at my favorite uncle’s yearly barbecue, the first one on the grill. . .and it’s just sooooo soooooo good. . .
It takes my mouth a few seconds to fully embrace the fact I have another person’s penis in there, one who’s deliberately entrusted me with it exclusively for the reason of giving them pleasure. As this fact sinks in, my brain and hearing go numb, blind. . .and I become a creature of pure reflex and sexual instinct. Once more, my hands and fingers readjust to the flow of the moment, sliding around to the sides of Rebecca’s thighs to aid her pumping. I can feel them stiffen as my mouth and lips lovingly close all around the length of her cock. She’s a big girl, a stud, brandishing 9 inches of heathen meat. My mouth takes in five inches immediately, but we both no that’s not satisfactory. . .so I gobble up 6, 7, 8 inches, immediately choking like the fucking amateur I am. Still, as my eyes cross, I actually see a look of annoyance on her face, a veritable pout on her lips. Not until all 10 inches of her 9 inch penis are claustrophobically entombed down my larynx does she give me suuuuuuch a disdaining, condescending look, as if to say, with no words “Do your fucking job, God.” It’s only then, even as my lips kiss her lower abdomen, no visible sign of her penis any longer present. . .that I notice her hand tactically planted behind my head. . .locking me in place.
The first of a series of gags echos up from my untrained esophagus as my bobbing head pleads with that hand that so mercilessly says ‘No.’ My own fingers squeeeezs her thighs at the sides, trying to detach from her erect organ. Not only does she not concede, but she makes me take more of it, which, according to the laws of measurement, shouldn’t be possible. The lovingly sadistic look in her eyes seems to inform me of an unstated rule: ‘I. . .adjust for her. She. . .does NOT adjust for me.’
She’s patient with me. Doesn’t move her hips for a second. Yet the grip of her hand, fingers so harshly tugging my hair, is unconditional, nonnegotiable. For a moment, literal panic sets in, and I imagine they’ll find my body in the morning. Yet my nostrils have their own contingency plan. . .and after I simply surrender to my fate and relax, they start working. It’s at that I see a smirk appear on her lips. Then, and ONLY then, does she retract her penis out my trembling maw. Her eyes actually seem proud of me. “You’re learning.”, they seem to say, and while I personally feel I just had a life and death experience, suddenly, I’m soooooooooooo eager for round two to apply what I just experienced. Immediately, she forcefeeds me raw, unprotected penis once again, alll the way right back down my throat. . .and holds it in place. I calm myself, knowing exactly what to do. . .and for the first time, I’m treated to that one sound I’ve wanted to hear from the moment I’d said hello at the door: A genuine moan of deepest pleasure right from her lips. In spite of that hand that’s returned spitefully to the back of my head, I see her eyes roll in filthy pleasure as her head sinks back against the wall. That’s the look I want. That’s the look I need more than her. Her thighs now spread a bit more, her feet sinking into the plushness of the carpet like a secured gun turret. Allowed to pull my head back, trusting that I won’t abandon her pulsating piston, I’m sanctioned to begin sucking her off. . .
At first, Rebecca delegates 100% of the workload to me. Manual labor. . .is not for the boss. She gazes down at me with suuuuuch an entitled, expectant look, a sexual Karen who demands, as she has every right, to have things her way. And so, my slutty sissy mouth gets to sucking that fat girlcock like my entire family’s lives depend on it.
I don’t blow. Blowing, with puffed hamster cheeks is a theatric, a visual ment to stimulate the eyes. I suckle. In the presence of the complete absence of friction, I begin suckling the skin of her penis, head, and 50% of the shaft in a way that immediately lets her know I’m soooo conscious that she’s holding back all that yummy creamy girl-custard so deep inside her thighs. My fish-like sucking lips slide all over her shaft like a rubbery glove that’s had chilled jello pumped into it, making her plunge her cock directly into the center again and again and again.
In a very short time, I’ve familiarized myself with the placement of her veins. I utilize the suction of my lips to directly stimulate, suck on each and every one of these, loving their striking nubbiness. Each time the skin of my lips is rubbed against them, reflexively, I secrete more saliva for her personal use on the spot, which is immediately applied to her dick. My eyes close. . .and I begin establishing my own rhythm of slow, sloppy suckage.. . .that is, until her hips begin singing their own perverse melody. It’s then that I feel that commanding hand once more reassert its authority over all that I am or ever will be. . .
Rebecca’s hips begin to rut. Pump directly into my mouth, even while her neck cranes back, consciousness headed for some far away plain of existence. This is no longer oral sex. THIS. . is masturbation. There’s only one person in the room right now. . .and it’s not me. And I’m so okay with that.
I can feel her thighs tightening with each pumping plow into that warm, wet, slimy ocean of saliva and skin that is my mouth, the presence of friction long gone from her private little world. Repositioning of my fingers is required, and I know exactly where they need to go. Effortlessly, I slide them RIGHT back behind her to that candy ass I so desperately want to shower with kisses. It’s soooo important for the buttcheeks to be squeezed, clawed, scratched, stabbed, pricked, and slapped during the more intense stages of fellatio. . .because THATS what gets the blood riled. THATS what gets the recipient angry, annoyed, so as to take it out on the sloppy hole it’s plowing. And sure enough, as my hands treated Rebecca’s ass with such cruelty, her loins immediately took it out on my throat as she facefucked me with a vengeance. And thaaaaats where I sensed she made her first and last mistake.
Too much unrestrained stimulation.
I caught that look in her eyes. That glassy look, the one generated when the individual knows they’ve gone too far but can’t stop. Where the stamina expenditure is just too much too fast. Too much greed. Too much lust. Too much desire. Where the application of the sexual breaks no longer does jack shit.
Premature ejaculation.
Sooooo fervently did the poor woman try to dislodge her cock from the depths of my throat as muscles even I couldn’t control squeezed and milked her girth. Outside, her gorgeous chubby thighs bucked and thrashed about violently, like a horse introduced to spurs to shark for its buxom ass. Turnabout is such fucking fair play, and my fingers now did to her thrashing, lusciously twitching buttcheeks exactly what that pompous, stuck up little hand of hers had done to my head. No relenting. No concession. No mercy.
In seconds, my mouth’s dick sucking converted to raw, pressurized milking, completely ignoring the raven’s cries for salvation. She. . .had sperm. And by GOD did I want it. Directly from the source. No fucking pull out and jerk off this time. No nonononono. No fucking theatrics, pumping on the tongue for me to proudly bear to the cameraman before swallowing. Here, in the privacy of the hotel room. . .I would suck it right out her balls. . .until she hand nothing left to give. In finalizing desperation, I felt her dig her nails into my shoulders, her hips thrashing so much as I squeezed and clawed her naked ass under her bathrobe, hard enough to leave grievous marks in her beautiful skin before slapping her ass with open palmed stinging smacks.
At last, throwing back her head, eyes crossed in almost comical agony, muscles all over locking up so intensely she couldn’t get off the scream, this absolute goddess of a woman gave up her soul. . .and jusssssst e x p l o d e d in my mouth. You would not believe the feeling of her suddenly steel buttcheeks in the palms of my hands as she vomited out her very soul through her pulsating penis. And here I was, with my face, and much much more importantly, my mouth, right at ground zero.
The first pumping snots out her urethra like a runny nose but with much much thicker mucus, more ooooozing than eruption. The second release in no way follows this pattern, but gushes out like a fat person falling on a fresh tube of toothpaste from two stories up. Gelled tapioca pudding of the sweetest nature, just pumped right down my throat. Even before the first ejaculatory gushing, however, the thing that ruins me in the most wonderful way. . .is that warning twitch, which both my throat and mouth feel from all over her shaft. It lasts no longer than 1-2 seconds, but in those moments, I am treated to the pleasure of her entire body. Her intensity. Her lust. Her depravity. Her urgency. The absolute summit of her pleasure, right from between her legs. Those beautiful veins lined all around her shaft, throbbing sooo vivaciously. The shaft, choking, backed up, rupturing, spasming, pulsating, throbbing…..all. . .in the still sucking confines of my mouth.
I can literally feel the snare on her face as she pumps her load down my throat. In seconds, I can feel the authority of her hand return as my hair and head are held in place to make me take all, every last fucking bit of what she has to give. . .and she has a lot. Her volume and texture are incredible as that smothered penis pumps and vomits off again and again and again and again and again and again and again. Suuuuch a wicked she-stud, ravenously beautiful, primal as a fucking horse. For nearly an entire minute, she feeds my trembling throat raw DNA. . .before at last subsiding, sinking back against the wall. Swallowing every single last bit, rapidly sucking the rest out her urethra directly, I rise just in time to catch her sinking body as it slides down the wall, then playfully swing her over to the comforting warmth of the bed, lovingly going right for her neck. I pity her for this initial strain on her body and pray she can shake it off. As things stand. .
. . .it’s going to be a very long night.
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And that’s my idea of a decent blowjob. If you’ve actually read alllll the way to this point, bless you, and pardon my rambling. Pleasure is just such a wonderful thing to bestow upon another human being, and I love seeing it administered in a way that’s as satisfying to the soul as possible.
Stay safe, and know you’re loved.
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