forcing my tongue deep under the shaft. The hole in the middle poked under my nose. Then something thick and wet brushed my lips. Had he done it already?
Jim put his hands under his balls and began to play with them. I stopped licking, “I can do that.”
“Then do it, Fancy. Suck and play.”
So far I’d only been licking. But now I closed my mouth around his thing… cock and really went to work. The salty first taste was gone now. And more of that thick stuff leaked out of the opening. I couldn’t taste anything.
I pushed his thing as far back in my throat as I could. The glossy head rode along the roof of my mouth. I could feel a soft tube on the bottom. That must be where his stuff came up when he let go. I lapped along it and twisted my head from side to side to allow my tongue to feel the full oval shape.
Jim sighed. “For a newcomer you’ve picked up the technique. Tighter. And let me hold your head.”
I nodded, still anxious to suck him as deep as I could. The heat and shape were incredible. I was sucking my first cock and loving it.
Jim’s hips began to move. He touched my head at the sides and kind of guided my where he wanted me to be. He pulled my mouth off his thing; my tongue flipped all the way out the make contact. He lifted his wet meat up and there were the balls, all covered with black fur.
“Try those.”
Again the salty taste and hair. A couple came off on my tongue. I stopped lapping long enough to pick them, off. The skin pouch was so soft., I lapped and lapped. I could feel his testicles inside. His nuts. They were hard rock, like big bird’s eggs. I caught one and pushed down on it. He moaned.
His hand was jerking on his cock while I licked his nuts. I glanced up, past the wide stalk, up the flat belly to his face. His eyes were closed. His hands formed a kind of double shadow allowing me to see his feet, his face and his cock. I could hear the skin moving up and down as he pulled on his thing.
His nuts were harder now or something. Something was definitely harder. My nose touched his shaft. That’s what was harder.
“You want to taste something else?” Jim’s voice had an edge in it now. Very tight.
He bent his cock down. The end was all covered with clear goo… that’s what I must have been tasting. In addition, the head had turned almost dark wine color. He must have been really excited. I know I was. My panties were practically sopping. I shoved a hand down the wide waist band and pushed my middle finger up into my cunt. He was still flicking his fingers up and down. I stared at the head.
With his free hand, he urged my head forward. I opened my mouth and clamped around his cock. I could feel the skin changing directions; he rode his hand up and down on it.
Then the head turned harder than a rock as it scraped across my tongue. He was going to let go. I felt like backing off right then, but he’d been so considerate. I knew he didn’t have anything evil in mind. I tightened my lips.
The soft tube under the thins expanded and then I felt it. A heavy rain of juice squirting onto the roof of my mouth. It spattered and ran in thick rivers down inside my mouth. He was kind of grunting.
My finger pounded faster and faster inside my cunt. I felt my whole body tense and… then came the relief. My pussy tightened around my finger and my own juices flowed. I wondered if guys liked female juices as much as I liked male now. I kept sucking until his hands touched the side of my head. I knew how he felt. Just the slightest twist of my finger and I was contracting again.
I thought my insides would leak out for sure.
“Let me suck your finger,” Jim said. I held it up. He licked it clean. I was still holding his cock, though it was softer now.
At his request I dipped into my cunt quite a few times. Finally, I scooped up the yellow tape, signed my name on the bottom of the sheet and said, “I’ll let you know about the fitting.”
“My pleasure.”
I said to myself, No, my pleasure.
Chapter 2
Max Rises to the Occasion We were in the scene design classroom, surrounded by renderings of scene designer’s past. I was new to water color renderings and just couldn’t wield the brush so it looked like anything, aside from a kid’s sketch done with finger paint. Very humiliating. I’m really an actor, but we’re required to be familiar with the technical areas, so we know how the other half lives.
Dr. Compton, Betty, was helping me out with the design for She Stoops To Conquer. And boy, she could have stooped to conquer me, I can tell you. She was the first woman PhD to teach scene design. Usually women were costumers like Fancy Jones. Jim Benson told me all about what happened. I hoped that when they fit my costume later this afternoon, we could get into a little action.
Betty and I were leaned over my floor plan for the Act II setting and she was pointing out problems to me. We’d agreed that while it wasn’t traditional, I could make a model. So I’d made the model, now it was time (shudder) to start painting the damned things.
I was bent over the drawing board, my black hair coming down over my face and Dr. Compton, Betty, standing behind me. We were both casually dressed. She in a pink sweater and worn jeans. Me in even more worn jeans and a dark green polo shirt. I was trying to.get a lemon yellow out of my water colors. The puddle kept looking like mustard.
I could smell her very close behind me. For the fitting later on, I’d worn a lemon yellow jock. She must have seen the waistband when I bent over, because she said, “The color of your shorts would be just fine? “They’re not shorts. It’s fancy underwear, a cross between a jock and a bikini.”
“How fascinating.”
“Yeah, well… let me try just a little more of… shit.” Mustard again.
“That’s mustard like you put on a hot dog not lemon, like you put in lemonade? “I know, I know. It’s just that… ”
“Let me show you? She grabbed my sable brush and squeezed my mustard out (oooh, what an image. My dick crawled a little in its pouch) and swished it through the clear water. Then with a flick and a twist she had my lemon.
“Let’s see if it matches.” She reached forward to the waist of my beltless jeans and pulled the front down. The narrow band of my shorts/jock widened or my stomach popped back. See, I have this fantasy about an older, experienced woman seducing me. You know. Girls your own age are so easy. But an older woman, one with experience, they’re the hard kind to meet and seduce.
My stomach was still fluttering. She lifted my knit shirt and painted a smiley face on my stomach. “Let it dry. It may not be quite the right shade.
I was shaking. Ole Maxamillian Chidester was fluttering faster than a leaf on an October tree. We both looked down onto my belly. She’d used my navel for the nose. If she’d made the circle bigger my nipples could have been the eyes.
She said, “It needs something.”
My dick was indecisive. After all, we were in a classroom, not the great out of doors or a bedroom. Betty ran her hand lightly over my stomach. I’ve got lots of dark hair on my head, but not much on my belly. You know, the arrow that points to satisfaction was missing. Her fingers were making my cock’s mind up about growing. It leaped to an erection, shoving up the center line of my underwear and almost poking it’s red nosed snoot over the edge. Then it did. I looked up. Betty was staring. Her tongue moved across her lips, wetting them so they more glossy than her lipstick.
“My, we do have a problem, don’t we.”
“Yes, we do. Once this thing gets up, it’s hard to make it go down.”
