Have I mentioned how very, very much I love sucking cock?
I’m sorry, I’ll be more specific, Mr X. I absolutely love sucking your cock.
Given, I love your big beautiful cock in anyway I can get it. Dragged across my body, smashed against my face, crammed between my gigantess tits, fucking them mercilessly. And in my body. Fucking me. Any hole. …Where was I again?
Oh yes. Cock, in my mouth. Slippery, salty, smooth. Pulsating, pushing ever deeper in, pumping bitter cum over my tongue and into my throat. Mmmm, Bettie hasn’t given a blow job in weeks and such a pleasure is long over due.
There are fast and hard blow jobs. The kind where my head bobs up and back on your cock and a steady speed, your hands laced behind my head, imploring me to go on, no matter how much the gag reflex fights me back. You get into it, lifting your hips to meet my mouth while pressing my head, my mouth – the only important part of me – closer, deeper into your hips. Fucking my face. God. Fuck my face. My throat. Use me, fill me up with your come and let me swallow it. …Sometimes giving blow jobs makes me feel like such a bad girl, because it turns me the fuck on to do it for you, but I just enjoy it too much. I hope you won’t take my pleasure away, dear darling Mr. X, I just love swallowing your cock so.
There are humiliating blow jobs. Ones where I sit under your desk, by your feet. and bob my head against your growing cock while you surf porn. Your very own masterbatory aid. Who knows what you’re looking at while you defile me, what girl or girls your imaging your actually fucking. And it doesn’t make a fucking bit of difference to you how I feel about it, just that I keep doing my job. Sometimes you tell me what you’re looking at: Ooh baby, you’d like this cute little brunette. She’s got big tis like you. Mmm, I’d like to see you suck ‘em while she licks your pussy. You don’t have to touch me, to force yourself down my throat, I’m practically fucking my own mouth on your big, dripping cock.
But then, there are sexy and slow ones. The kind I give you early in the morning when I wake up to happily the morning light playing off the tent you’ve pitched in your boxers. I slide down your body, careful not to wake you, and begin warming your cock with the lurid wetness of my mouth. A thin layer of cotton the only barrier separating your growing member from the balmy inviting cavity desperately waiting to envelope you.
Slowly, slowly you wake, smiling, stretching, utter bliss washing over you as you awake to your girl and her talents. What are you doin’?
I sit back on my heels, massaging your cock with my hand, waiting to know if I’m allowed to continue or not. “I thought I might give you a good morning, daddy. May I continue?” You laugh, palming your forehead, trying to get a good look at the clock, determining if your need for sleep outweighs my significant oral fixations.
You sigh, still smiling though, cock creeping up inch by inch in my able little hands. Your fingers find the elastic band of your boxers as you speak, pulling them lower for me. Yeah, alright. But daddy gets to sleep after your done. And you better be a good girl and lick it all up. Daddy doesn’t like messes.
Starting at the base of the shaft I slowly, slowly lick my way up, drawing semicircles around the head as my tongue reach it. “Deal.”
