blow jobs

Fist Full of Dollars, Mouth Full of…

Warning…

I am going to live up to my title…

This is going to be quite tawdry.

During our time together, I helped Viktor embrace his inner Dom.  It wasn’t difficult to coax it out of him.  It was in there and he was very attuned to his natural traits.  He demanded respect.  He was disciplined.  In control of himself and his emotions.  And he possessed a charm that made you want to do exactly what he wanted you to do.  During a few of our trysts together, I had the pleasure of experiencing his hand on my backside, of being dominated and taken by him.

As time moved on, Viktor and I morphed into this incredible friendship where we could be completely transparent with each other.  I found myself in a D/s (actually M/s) relationship (and it’s still going strong) and he found himself searching for a submissive. As fate would have it, he found a young woman in her early 30’s looking for a Dominant.  It seemed a good match.  She was willing to learn and eager to please him in every way.  And he was a patient Dominant, willing to train her to his liking.  Her name was Nadia and life was going well for them.

Although obedient, Nadia had a very bratty side.  She wanted to please Viktor, but often put her own needs first.  She would follow his commands, as it suited her, but often did things her way.  He was very patient with her.  He held her on a long leash, but when he had enough, he yanked it back with incredible force.  And there was always punishment.

Viktor’s punishments were unique and relevant.  He would typically ensure the punishment fit the crime, teaching a lesson.  If Nadia was late, she would be lashed for each minute.  He soon realized she enjoyed the lashing, so he would completely ignore her for each minute she was late.  She hated it and found herself more punctual to avoid it.  Nadia had a very smart mouth and would often speak out of turn.  Viktor turned a blind eye to this behavior, because it was a facet of her personality that he enjoyed.  However, she often towed the line between acceptable and rude.

One Saturday afternoon they prepared to go to Sak’s on a shopping trip.  Viktor’s mother’s birthday was quickly approaching and he wanted to find her something nice. He invited Nadia to join him, as she could provide a second opinion.  She was thrilled to help, but her bratty side bubbled out and she said, “If I go, what do I get?  If I am helping you, I should get something pretty.”  At first, her demands didn’t phase him.  He was so focused on his mother’s gift, that he paid little mind to her antics.  They were supposed to leave at 1:00, go to Saks and have lunch, which would have put them back home around 4:00.  Viktor had a video conference with some clients in Europe at 5:00 and he wanted to get this finished early in the day to make time for the meeting.  Nadia was fully aware of his timeline.  And to be a brat, she decided to run back in the house for something as they were leaving.  Viktor waited patiently for the first five minutes, but then, he became angry.

She climbed into the car around 1:15.  And as she got in the car, she gave him a bratty little smile.  He knew she had done this intentionally.  He knew that she was acting out because she wanted the guarantee of “something pretty” from their excursion.  And as he rounded the corner out of his driveway, he reached down between his legs, unzipped his pants and looked at her.

“Since you are clearly misbehaving, I will need you to suck my cock for the entire drive.  But you are not allowed to make me cum until I say so.  Do you understand me, Nadia?”

Once again, she smiled a bratty smile and said, “Yes, Sir.  I can’t wait!”

She leaned over and began her task of pleasuring him as he drove to their destination.  She loved this punishment.  She loved the feel of his cock in her mouth.  She loved pleasuring him on the open road.  It made her feel like such a naughty girl.  She was lost in her place, when Viktor said, “I am glad to see you are enjoying this.  Maybe if you are a good girl, I will get you something pretty.  But you have to complete the task.”

She came up for air and said, “Oh I will complete the task, Sir.  No worries there.”

Viktor just grinned to himself.  She had no idea what was in store for her.

They arrived at Saks around 1:40.  Nadia’s face was still buried between his legs as he parked the car.  She continued for a few minutes and asked if it was time yet?  Viktor was beyond ready to unload, but had waited for this precise minute.

Pulling her up by her sweaty hair, he turned her face to his.

“Bratty slut.  Your mouth and lack of respect have earned you an applicable punishment.  I hope you learn from this.  I am about cum in your mouth.  You are not allowed to swallow.  You must walk around the store with me, with my load in your mouth, until I tell you to swallow.  If you can do this, I will buy you something.  If not, I guess you will learn to be more careful of when you open your mouth.”

Her face showed it all.  That’s quite a task for anyone.  Our natural instinct is to swallow what’s in our mouth…and she was not allowed to.  And she had to keep composure,as they were at a nice store, and she had cum in her mouth.

She lowered her head and began to suck him once again.  He was so turned on by this time, that he was ready to explode in her mouth.  Which he did.  And she held it there as the walked into the store.  She couldn’t even talk, because she would have to swallow.  And Viktor made it clear, she was not to spill any.

They found a lovely gift for his mother about 15 minutes into their visit.  Then Viktor decided to up the stakes.  “If you can hold me in your mouth for another 15 minutes, I will buy you a bracelet.  But you must not swallow.”  She nodded.

As they perused the store, he would walk up behind her and whisper in her ear, “You naughty little slut.  You like how I filled your mouth.  You like how it feels to be my cum slut don’t you.  You wanna feel it slide down your throat, so you can relive the moment don’t you, slut?  I own you.  You are mine.  Be a good girl.  Don’t swallow”

That talk made it excruciating for her continue on with her task.  She was so turned on my his words, that she swallowed by accident. She looked at him in shock, as he had watched her do it.  His eyes met hers and they just stared at each other.  It was affirmation of their   power exchange.  She knew her place.  He knew his place.  They knew who they were together.

And with that realization, he stroked her cheek, kissed her forehead and took her by the hand, leading her to the jewelry department.  “You won’t get anything today, but let’s look.  I know you will do better next time.”  She closed her eyes and smiled, knowing he was a man of his word.  She would do better and he would reward her.

That Viktor is quite a man.

lips

Photo credit, Pinterest

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

Growing up in the Deep South, it was an expectation to date within your own race, culture and religion.

I’ve never liked rules.  And I scoff at expectations.

My poor parents never knew who was coming to dinner. (But lets just say I always knew who was “coming” after dinner.)  My curiosity and adventurous spirit led me to some very interesting encounters with gents from all walks of life.

There was Geoff.  He was a restaurant manager where a few of my friends worked.  He was very dark and brooding.  No one called out sick when Geoff was there.  He ran a tight ship and as much as my friends disliked him, I found his power and control a big turn on.  He seemed to like me also.  We began dating and on the first date, I learned that he was Jewish.  I was fascinated.  We talked a lot about religion.  His very orthodox upbringing. His “rebellion” by dating Christian women.  We talked about rituals and teachings.  I was like a sponge.  I learned so much from him.

And then I thought…time to teach him a thing or two…

Although he was older than me by a few years, he’d not had many sexual experiences.  I feel that his upbringing had a lot to do with that.  I was happy to school him in the ways of the flesh.  He was a very tender lover.  Very considerate.  I longed for him to channel some of that power and control he exuded at work, but it just didn’t happen.  He just wasn’t confident enough yet to blend those parts of his personality.  But I could see a beast lurking behind those big brown eyes of his.  But it just didn’t last long enough for me to bring it out.  Our relationship fizzled before Passover.

There was Ki.  His mother was Korean and his father American.  We went to high school together and the bastard beat me out for Salutatorian by less than a point.  I never saw myself dating him.  He was so focused on school that I don’t think he dated much.  We were always friends (and always in competition) but there was no spark.  While in college that changed a bit.  He began working out and out of nowhere…picked up some serious swagger.  The combination of his new attitude and intelligence made me take an interest in him.  We started going out.  He was a doting boyfriend.  Always attentive.  Almost in a fatherly way.  He would ask if my car had gas, if I’d done my assignments, if I’d paid my bills (and offered to pay if I needed) and always made sure I had groceries.  Not that I needed any of this, but he ensured I was cared for.  For him, it was a learned behavior.  His mother had never worked outside of the home and his father handled everything.  She was very submissive and I feel that modeled what Ki sought in a girlfriend.

And in turn, as a submissive…I made sure he was cared for.  I gave him his first head.  And he was blown away.  He had only had missionary position sex and I opened the doors to contortions far beyond his imagination.   He was such an eager student that we fucked every chance we could.  It’s ironic that he tried to control my life in his own way…keeping me on task with the things I needed to do.  And I controlled him in a sexual way…steering the course of what we would do next.  It was an interesting dynamic.  And he loved nothing more than filling me with his seed when I rode him, only to have me finger myself to taste him afterwards.  Our little hot flame went out as he began testing to get into medical school.  His time was consumed with his studies.  But I must confess…I intentionally kept him up all night in a marathon fuckfest, the night before his first attempt at the MCAT.  Retribution, motherfucker…for beating me out of being Salutatorian.

There was Umesh, my chemistry tutor.  He was from India and was already arranged to marry a woman his parents selected for him.  And for me, in my rebellious nature, that posed a challenge.  How dare anyone decide for another person!  (Again…I was naive and headstrong…I had no idea that it was accepted in his culture)  So I took Umesh on as my student.  We didn’t have intercourse, but we explored far more than the periodic chart of the elements.  I showed him how to make me cum using only his index finger.  How to exact pleasure and pain by sucking my nipples.  I pleasured him manually and orally.  I think I even showed him some new hand job techniques.  He was always so grateful for our lessons. I am sure his knowledge served him and his arranged bride well.

And I ended up with an A in chemistry.

There were so many others I brought into the mix. My family finally began asking if there were any dietary preferences or religious restrictions when I said I was bringing home a date for dinner.  They eventually became accustomed to meeting people from different cultures, so I feel I did them a great service. And I didn’t do it to rebel against them or anyone else, I was truly thirsty for knowledge and experience.  I was able to learn things about different cultures and religions, intimate things.  I learned that at their core, men from all cultures and walks of life seek the same things.  Connection.  Respect.  Pleasure.

And amazing blow jobs.  

ki

The Student

Winter of 1988.

We met through a mutual friend, who said we were perfect for each other. He was almost 18 and I’d just turned 16.  His father was a dentist.  He attended a school in another county.  He was nice-looking, very tall and very smart.  His name was Joe.

Joe had all the traits of a confident, popular high school senior, except that he was painfully shy and socially awkward in certain scenarios.  He was most awkward when interacting with girls. I seemed to put him at ease.  And, I took him on as a project.

Our relationship began as a friendship.  We would attend different school functions in support of one another.  It gave us time to hang out and get to know each other in a comfortable setting.  But I found myself becoming more and more attracted to him.  I found myself thinking about him sexually.  Wanting him.

He was just so innocent.  So shy and nervous.  When we crossed the line from friendship into interest, our first kiss was a bit of a disaster.  But we kept at it and he grew more confident.  We began going on dates and instead of going to the movies as we said we were…we would end up in the backseat of his Volvo, making out to whatever was on the radio.  We never consummated the relationship.  He was very hesitant to go there.  I seemed to understand why.  I think it was performance anxiety.  He was still a virgin.

Joe knew that I was experienced.  More experienced and confident than he was.  I clearly knew what I was doing and he still fumbled about when trying to get into my jeans.  So I began to take on the role of coach, mentor, trainer to him.  You see, I knew the relationship we shared would not go anywhere.  Although we had so much in common on the outside, we were wired differently.  I knew that he couldn’t give me what I needed, even at such a young age…I knew who I was…what I craved…I understood my dark desires.  And Joe was truly too nice of a guy to handle my tar black soul.

I remember showing him how to remove my bra with one movement of his wrist.  How to caress my breasts, teasing my nipples.  I showed him how to kiss me on the neck to turn me on.  I demonstrated how to successfully get inside my jeans, with minimal effort. I explained a woman’s anatomy and showed him what felt good.  I let him experiment on me.  My body was like his laboratory and he was an eager student.

I remember the first time I took his cock in my mouth.  He came in a matter of seconds.  He was so embarrassed and apologetic.  But I explained that the only way to increase his endurance was through practice.  So we kept going there.  Eventually, he showed me what he liked.  He began to understand himself and his desires.  He learned how to communicate what he wanted from me.  How he liked it when I licked his shaft before taking him deep in my throat.

We carried on like this for weeks.  Each “date” was a tutoring session.  I taught him how to please me manually and orally. He became accustomed to giving and receiving pleasure.  He became more confident. He was morphing into the young man of my dreams.  But still, I knew it wouldn’t work long term.

One night after a long playdate in his car, he looked at me and said, “I am ready”

I was confused and said, “Okay.  I need to get home soon.  Let’s go.”

He said, “No.  I am ready to have sex…with you.”

I remember thinking how proud I was of him…that he not only knew he was ready, but he said it.  He told me.  I was impressed with his confidence.

I said, “Okay.  When do you want to do this?”  I felt like a teacher scheduling the final exam.

He said, “I will pick you up on Friday.  Be ready.”

Friday quickly arrived and I readied myself for our date.  I spent more time getting ready than I typically did for our sessions.  I wanted this to be special for him.  After school, I borrowed my mother’s car under the premise of getting hairspray at the store, but really, I bought my first pair of black thigh high stockings.  They were so opaque they were almost like tights and looked great under the black skirt I wore.  I felt confident and sexy.

He arrived a few minutes early and spend time chatting up my parents.  They liked his squeaky clean appearance and the fact that he came from a good family.  I rounded the corner from the hallway to the kitchen and our eyes met.  He was wearing a white Polo button down shirt with jeans.  He looked great.  He saw me and I could tell he was pleased by the way he looked me over.

We left my house around 7:30.  Instead of going to our favorite restaurant, he drove me to a place we’d never visited before.  It was close to his dad’s practice and had just been purchased by a developer (today there’s a car dealership there).  The road was clear, but completely deserted.  It was perfect.

Joe got out of the front seat without saying anything and walked around to open my door.  He took me by the hand and I assumed we would be moving to the backseat.  But first, he pinned me to the car and kissed me like he never had before.  I was shocked and excited.  He opened the door to the backseat and before I got in, he reached up my skirt and pulled my panties off…never uttering a word.  He then guided me into the car, shut the door and made his way to the other side.

He sat next to me and held my hand.  We rarely held hands, but it was nice. For a while, we just laughed and talked.  Then he looked at me, as he brushed my hair from my face and said, “I want you.”

Even though I was his teacher.  His mentor.  I felt a tinge of nervousness.  I was nervous about going all the way with him. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and laid it across the front seat.  He then carefully removed my sweater, and then my bra. We kissed and he pulled me on top of his lap.  He fondled my breasts and teased my slit.  I felt his hardness through his jeans and asked if I could taste him.  He opened his door and removed his pants outside, turning to face me in the car.

“Come here.  You know what I like.”

I sat on his side of the car and sucked his hard cock from the open door.  It was intensely hot.  He held my face and knelt down to kiss me.  Then he said, “Lie down and scoot back to your side of the car.  I need some room.”

I felt him mount me and for the first time, I felt him inside me.  He was rather well-endowed and filled me quite nicely.  Neither of us said anything.  We just looked into each other’s eyes and sank into our own rhythm.  He pulled my legs up and went deeper.  We never lost eye contact.  I knew when he was getting close to orgasm.  I could read it in his eyes.

He stopped and took me by the hand to pull me up.  He then got back into the car and sat down for me to straddle him.  I was still wearing my thigh highs and sat atop his lap, easing him into my sex.  He held my body tightly as I began to move up and down on his hard shaft.

He broke the silence, “How do I feel?  Do you like how I feel?”

I was eager to give him feedback, “You feel wonderful.  You fill me up and I don’t want to stop riding you.”

Hearing that turned him on as he grabbed my hips and began moving me to his rhythm.  Faster.  Harder. Deeper.  I came almost instantly and he was not far behind.  I will never forget the look in his eyes as he unloaded in me.  How intense. How amazed.  How grateful.  How sated.

Afterwards, I stayed on his lap and we held each other.  He nuzzled himself in my long hair and breathed me in.  We shared a certain closeness…an intimacy.  Something I’d yet to experience, and I later realized what a profound effect it had on me. Finally it was time for us to go.

On the way back, we stopped at a drive thru and ate.  We had been so eager that we forgot to eat.  We laughed and joked on the way home.  And as usual, he walked me to the door and gave me a goodnight kiss.  But there was something different in the way he walked…carried himself.  He was a man.  And at the time, he was my man.

Eventually our relationship fizzled and we went our separate ways by the Spring.  He graduated that year and moved cross country to attend college.  One day, I received a letter from him.

The first page of the letter talked a lot about his life in college, his new girlfriend, his family and then on the second page…written as a separate note, was a letter thanking me for taking the time to show him how to treat a woman.  He referenced everything he learned from me and how I made his first time so special.  He went on to say that if he lived to be 100, he would never forget that night in late February where he lost his virginity.  He would never forget how patient I was with him.  He said in the letter that I was more than his first time, I was his first love.  He closed the note in a way that was closure for both of us.

It will be 28 years this February and I’ve never looked him up on social media.  I have never attempted to find his number or contact him in any way.  I drove by his dad’s practice and noticed his sister had taken it over, since his father retired.  I don’t want to know Joe now.  Our time and our purpose was long ago.

I want to keep him alive in my memories, just as I remember him.

in the car

The Good Girl’s Guide to Cock Worship

I don’t like the term “blow job”
It insinuates a “task” to be performed…a “job” one must do. It feels obligatory.
I prefer the concept of cock worship.

What is the difference, you ask?
One is a task. The other is a privilege.

When I worship my One, I think of it as a spiritual offering. I am giving him an immense indulgence. Letting him know how much I love and adore him with every lick. Every stroke. Every suck. Every nuance of my mouth. Seeing my mouth as a portal to his pleasure.

I usually begin by massaging his scrotal area. Sometimes rubbing a small part of his ass. I move my hand up to the shaft of his cock and stroke it softly and slowly. I then lick the tip of his head, teasing him before I take him all into my mouth. I do this in slow motion, savoring each and every inch of him as I slowly move my mouth up and down.
I take my time. I want to give him an unforgettable experience every time his smooth head parts my lips.

There is no agenda.  There is no timeline.

I lose myself in the adoration, the ritual.  I suck, lick, massage, stroke and consume him…for long sessions at a time.  I taste his balls, play with his ass and suck on his nipples.  I do anything to show him my reverence.

The focus is not solely on his orgasm.  Trust me, we get there soon enough.  I am centered on his journey to bliss, not the destination itself.  There have been times that I have worshiped his cock for almost an hour (with breaks of course) pouring out devotion comparable to that of a Buddhist monk.

And my reward is sweet.  And salty…

For the bad girls who want to be the best at being bad…here are a few tips to achieve Nirvana as you embark on your pilgrimage to cock worship.

  1. Know what he likes.  My One prefers a soft suck, not hard suction.  I have the tendency (when aroused) to give a Hoover vacuum a run for its money, but I have to remember how he likes it.
  2. Time is on your side.  If you are committing to a session of cock worship, then go all-in, without agenda.  Without a timeline in your head about giving head.  Just lose your head and do what you do.
  3. Make it a joint effort.  Please don’t forget about the boys.  Hold them.  Caress them.  Lick them.  Stroke them.  Show them some love.  You’ll be glad you did.  Use your hands and your mouth in tandem.  Pure ecstasy.
  4. Tease and play.  Have fun with it.  I sometimes play coy and ask if he likes it…do you want me to stop…should I keep going?  If I feel him coming close to orgasm, I may back off and prolong the experience.  Make it fun.  Keep it light.
  5. To swim you have to swallow.”  Marilyn Manson got it right with these infamous lyrics.  You have revered.  You have worshiped.  Now it’s time to accept your communion.  Let it flow down the back of your throat like holy wine, knowing you have paid homage to this demigod.

I must say, all of this writing makes me want to praise his member…

worship

(Photo credit, Tumblr)