The Benefits of FriendsChapter 36 Holiday Treats
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It was far from the first time that a man had cum in my mouth, spurting his creamy penile discharge with a grunt and then a sigh. It's happened so many times that I've long since lost count. But I can count, and remember by name, those individual men to whom I've given the gift of my lips and tongue.
I'm perfectly serene to think of myself as a cock-sucker but not an easy one. I won't do it on a first date. For me, the only purpose of a first date is to decide if I want a second date, and if I have to think about it, then the answer is No. Rarely will I do it even on the second date. They tell me I'm good at it, using various superlatives, but how can a woman ever be sure? After all, no man is going to say that any woman did a lousy job, especially if he dreams of having her do it again someday.
No man gets his cock into my mouth, or my pussy, without payment in advance. Not money, for I have enough of that. What I mean is that he has to make me cum first. It could be with his tongue, his fingers or his cock, it doesn't matter. Every once in a while I extend credit, blowing a man who promises to go down on me afterwards. I choose carefully; I've never been burned.
My nom de plume is maryjane, one word, all lower case. I write for this website and have posted quite a few stories. As with most authors, I receive emails from readers. They contain compliments and complaints, the latter usually in the polite form of suggestions. Some have requests for particular types of stories or even explicit story lines. I accommodate when practical. Other letters come from readers who want personal information and photos. Like most authors on this site, or so I hope, I try to turn them away politely. Some include photos, ranging from head shots to penis shots. I am reminded of a certain football player who doesn't know when to retire.
Some of the emails come from other authors on this site. Their suggestions are more detailed, and we sometimes go into personal details. Some I call friends. One in particular is available for advice and I take advantage of his knowledge. Without knowing many details of each other's lives, and with an explicit agreement never to try to meet or speak to each other, we've gotten into the habit of writing teasing sexy emails to each other. This message is for his imagination – and for your imagination too.
Good morning, my distant lover,
How are you this fine morning? And how is our dear SuperCock this morning? Did you take good care of him last night? I'm sure you did. Unless you had one of your lady friends over last night to tend to him. But it's morning again and he needs his exercise again. I need you to help me with this, baby, I'm so far away.
First you have to think about me, picture me naked in bed, soaking wet for you, waiting for you to touch me all over, to do all those things you dream about twenty-four/seven, all those places that you'd like to put SuperCock. Well, that didn't take long. I can tell that our big friend is wide awake, standing tall, ready to go wherever you want to take him. And now it's time for you to help me do what SuperCock wants.
Make believe that it's my hand holding him. It feels softer than your hand, doesn't it? And it feels so warm to him, even though he's all full of blood. Easy now, because we want him to think that it's a woman's hand on him instead of yours. I know, I know, when he gets so big, he'll settle for any hand, for anything else wrapped around him, but he likes my kind of hand better than yours. Don't you, big fella? Or would he really prefer a calloused hand? No, I don't think so, not the way his owner writes to me.
But are you really his owner, my love? Or does he own you, the way all the SuperCocks of the world, whatever their names may be, own all the men of the world, leading them around from opening to opening, controlling their every thought and action?
Forgive me for rubbing it in, my darling, but just remember the old story. As long as I have one of these, I can get all of those that I want. But this is not about me right now, it is about our big aroused friend.
Talking about big, man goes into a bar. "Drinks on me all around. I just had a baby boy twenty-five pounds." Everyone congratulates him. A week later he's back, bartender is alone. "How big is the baby now?" "Eighteen pounds." "What happened?" "We just had him circumcised."
OK, you're not holding him too tightly, are you? Good. Now slide your hand up and down very softly, very slowly. That's it, nice and slow. SuperCock's as excited as you are, isn't he? No rush, he needs some time for his nuts to produce some juice. And besides, most guys tell me that they enjoy the build-up as much as they like the cum.
Rub his head, baby, rub his head. He'll think that he's inside a warm pussy. I know he loves it, they always love it when I do that to them. Does your pal love it when you do it to him?
Don't forget the twins, baby. You know he likes you to play with those little guys with your free hand while you're giving him his morning exercise. Give them a little squeeze, lover. Not too tight though. Feel them squirm away from your fingers, they're so sensitive. If you hurt them, SuperCock won't be so happy. Hey, he doesn't like it when he has to shrivel down before he's had a chance to cum.
Take your time, lover. I know he likes it when you put some effort into exercising him, I mean not rushing it. Besides, I've got other plans for him on where to cum. Like maybe a nice warm mouth. Think he'd like that?
That's it, baby. Nice and easy on his shaft, make sure you hit the rim of his crown on each stroke. Ignore that little droplet where he pees. That's only good on a tongue and you can't reach it. No man can, though so many continue to try. No, I don't think that it makes them gay, I just think that they're curious.
No, baby, not so fast. Slow down. It's not time yet. Oh shit, oh shit, he's gonna cum. No, No. Quick, get your hand out in front, don't waste it in the sink, catch his stuff in your palm. Save it, let the creamy sauce pool there. Ooh, you're such a ba-a-a-a-a-d boy, my lover. That tasty goo was supposed to go in my mouth, not your hand.
Well, now we have no choice. Go on, baby, stick your tongue into that ivory colored puddle. You know how it tastes, you've done that often enough. Ever since you were a teenager, I'm sure. Finish it all, clean your hand like a pussy cat would. And don't give me any bullshit about it. You want me to swallow, don't you?
I'm so sorry, SuperCock, but that naughty man who carries you around between his legs was in such a hurry that he cost us both a lot of fun time.
Excuse me, my dear, but your little adventure with SuperCock has somehow caused my panties to become extremely damp. And for some reason I've got an itch down there that simply must be scratched. So if you don't mind, I'll just peel them off. And with your permission, I'll try to suck the wet spot dry. Aah!
Do you like what you see, lover? Oh, that's right, you can't see my pussy, can you? But I have described it for you, remember. All I have there is just naked me, except for that little landing strip that I had left there. Did I tell you that I had him – yes, it was a him – shave the lower end of the landing strip into an arrow? I had been planning to have an arrow tattooed in that place, but I decided that someday I may want to look virginal. Jeez, I can't even remember what it felt like to lose that cherry.
Imagine those pink labia, so wet and shiny that they reflect light back at you. And my little clit poking her nose out into the world, looking for someone or something to make nice to her. Wouldn't you like to be that someone. Wouldn't SuperCock like to be that something?
Want me to spread them for you, baby, so you can imagine what they look like inside? I'm going to write what I know you'd like to do for me down there, the Promised Land, and you tell me if I'm wrong. Don't laugh, I know you and men like you and I know what the good ones want to do. The others I don't even care about. You know the expression 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am'? Well, those guys don't even bother with the thank you. I expect that you would.
You'd start with your fingers. Yes, your fingers. You know that you have to start with foreplay. SuperCock can wait for a while. Ooh, wait, you're right, I forgot to take off my robe. Sorry about that. Can you picture what my girls look like, my 34B's that can get away without a bra? And baby, just thinking about what you'd like to do to me has their nips at attention.
So let's do it right. Close your eyes and put your lips up against mine. I'm talking about my face lips, not the ones SuperCock has in mind. You'll feel no taste because I have no lipstick on. I probably should, because lipstick on a naked body can be very sexy. I know that without you telling me.
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