The following is a true story.
There’s no other way to put this politely: Elizabeth was a cocksucker.
She sucked boyfriends, friends, men at clubs, men at parties, her personal trainer and even, one time, an acquaintance of her dad’s. Rich, spoiled, bright, and wild, she had long red hair and a naturally buxom figure that made heads turn and dicks spring to attention.
Her mouth, though, was her best feature. Wide and deep, with naturally wet puffy lips and a long tongue, it seemed as though was sculpted by the hand of the creator to give men pleasure. And give men pleasure she did.
By her mid-twenties, she’d easily blown 100 guys. She was considered an absolute connoisseur of cock, bringing men to orgasms so powerful they’d do everything from sob to buy her gifts to offer her wedding rings. There was no cock, big or small, young or old, that she couldn’t work her magic on.
I remember being at her Christmas party one year and thinking that except for the gay guys, she’d sucked every man in the room. She took pride in being sexually daring, having lesbian affairs at her all-girls college and seeing if she could get away with things like fucking a guy during a party in his bathroom while his wife was downstairs mingling (she pulled this off, by the way).
She was the kind of girl who broke your heart if you were stupid enough to think you could put her in the role of “old-fashioned girlfriend.” Some did. Luckily, I didn’t.
I bounced between friend and lover with her and kept things as fluid as possible by making it an open relationship when we did date. Truth be told, I got off on hearing about her and other guys (and gals) and knew it’d be a fools errand to try to tame her. She told stories about rich men who tried to buy her affection and failed.
We were still casually seeing each other when a girl I knew through Yahoo Messenger (remember that?) told me about a guy she’d screwed who had a massive ten-inch dick. It was so big, she said, she couldn’t even put it in her mouth to suck him.
I knew what I had to do then.
I got the dude’s Yahoo Messenger profile from that girl and sent him a simple message: “I’d like my girlfriend to try and blow you. She’s gorgeous. You game?”
After several somewhat suspicious emails, he eventually agreed — after I send him Elizabeth’s picture. He lived a state away, in Maryland, and he earmarked a Saturday he said he’d be home. I told him not to cum for a few days before we arrived, so he’d be extra ready for her.
Convincing Elizabeth to do this was harder. At first she laughed out loud, thinking I was joking around. Then she wanted to know what I was “really up to.”
“I want to see if you can handle something that big,” I said. “You brag about your skills, so let’s see. I’m curious.”
She wasn’t really onboard until I showed her some photos of “John” (as we’ll call him) and his freakishly oversized prick. She audibly gasped when I pulled them up on my computer screen.
“My God,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I can’t even…”
And then she started laughing. Loudly. I knew what to do then.
“You can’t handle it, can you?” I taunted. “It’s too much for you.”
She loved a challenge. So that was all it took. Come Saturday, we were on our way up to Maryland, winding our way through its endless, knotted highways. It was our “Daytrip for Cocksucking,” she joked. She was dressed (as usual) to the nines in super high heels and a sexy little pink print Dior dress that stopped just short of her knees.
“Listen,” I told her. “His dick is going to be a different experience for you.”
“I want you to take in as much as you can and suck it as hard as you can. You have to throw yourself into this. No shyness, OK?”
“OK,” she said. “But I’m nervous. What if he doesn’t like me?”
Elizabeth was also known for her insecure streak, probably the reason she sought approval from men by blowing them ceaselessly. I put my hand on her leg.
“You are stunning,” I told her. “You are going to give him the best orgasm of his life.”
He lived in a lower class neighborhood that had seen better days. We wondered whether we should even knock on the door. When we did, he greeted us at the door in sweats and a t-shirt in total contrast to her upscale look. It was an exciting mismatch: she the rich girl slumming and he, the working-class guy getting a gift like he’d never imagined.
“Wow, you are totally hot,” he drawled in his Baltimore accent. “C’mon in!”
Oddly enough, his girlfriend was there, dressed in black with oddly-cut short hair and behaving all mopey. She looked as if she’d resigned herself to this sort of thing: Date a guy with a massive cock and you have to play by his rules, I guess.
After we all chatted for a while, we all knew the time had come. I told him “have fun” while Ms. Mopey turned on the TV. He took Elizabeth’s hand and led her to the bedroom.
It only took about ten minutes until we heard the scream. It was a deep bellow that sounded like a man being wounded. Then…silence. Then the bedroom door opened and he stumbled out with just a tiny pair of shorts on, his bulge clearly showing. She trailed behind him, still dressed to the hilt, looking like the cat that ate the canary.
“Oh my Jesus god,” he said. “You weren’t joking. That was unbelievable.”
We all laughed. Well, all of us except for his girlfriend, who seemed incapable of even smiling. I suggested we all go to grab a bite to eat, but his girlfriend declined. So the three of us went to the local Friendly’s. Elizabeth sat beside him in the booth, letting him know she was “his for the day.” When she ducked into the bathroom I asked if he thought he could cum again.
“Sure!” he said. “With her? Of course.”
So we decided to put Elizabeth’s luscious mouth to work once more and convened in his bedroom. This time, his girlfriend wasn’t there and I got to watch her in action. He sat on the bed, while she kneeled before him, worshipping at the cock altar, so to speak.
First, she played with his mega-long, semi-soft, snake with her hands. Stroking it. Caressing it. Then she brought it to her mouth and gently started kissing — as if it were a person. Soon her tongue began to dart out of her mouth, gently licking the tip of his cock. She licked the perimeter, then pushed the tip of her tongue into the hole at the top. He groaned. Loudly. Then he collapsed backwards onto the bed.
By this time, that wiggly snake of his had snapped to attention and was rock-hard. It really was a sight to behold. I’d never seen anything like it.
Elizabeth had sucked me before, of course, but this was the first time I got to see her work her magic on another dick. It was incredible. It was like watching a brilliant sculptor or painter in the process of creating a magical work of art.
As he lie on the bed making high-pitched moaning noises, she bobbed her head up and down, sucking. She took him in as far as he would go, and held him there. He gasped. Then she let him out slowly and I watch his saliva-cover cock re-appear, as if by magic.
Then she sucked, licked, playfully bit, and lovingly kissed his engorged prick. She’d suck hard for a while, then slow down. Then she’d start up again. Then she’d put one of his balls in her mouth and suck hard. Then the other. At that, he began to howl in a combination of pain and pleasure. Then she’d go back to fellating that incredible cock.
All the while, she made sounds: Gurgling, growling, gobbling, gagging, slurping, slurring, humming. At times her vocalizing got so loud that it sounded as if she was trying to say something but couldn’t. I’d never noticed this before but I realized then how the noises she made were an important part of her oral repertoire.
Finally, it happened.
His body tensed up, then started to shake like an earthquake had hit. Then he screamed. She, in turn, became silent. The only sound I could hear from her was her frantic gulping. She was working diligently, making sure all of his fluid went down her throat and straight into her tummy.
“Oh God, oh God,” he practically sobbed. “Oh God!”
He lie on the bed, twitching, shaking. She, still kneeling, slowly pulled him out of her mouth. She held him gently in her hands, looking lovingly at his wet shaft, giving it her most flirtatious smile. Then, gently and carefully, she kissed the tip of it three times.
We left him a very, very happy man.
“Well, I know he really liked that!” she said on the ride home.
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
“Yes!” she said. “A man’s penis always tells the truth.”
We laughed for a while, then drove with the radio on. But something was on my mind. I needed to ask her: What was with all those sounds she made made?
This is when she gave me something I’ll call “The Dick Speech.” I’ll leave you with her words, as I remember them.
The Dick Speech
“I’ve never communicated well with people, especially men. I grew up slightly dyslexic. So when I’m giving head, I feel that’s the one form of communication I can excel at. I might not know people, but I know dick.
“Each dick has a personality of its own. You can sometimes tell by the way they look and definitely by how they respond. Some are tough and fight me. Some are anxious and pull away. Some are even a little bit scared and need a lot of TLC.
“What you heard was my dick talk. I treat each dick individually, by talking it through what I’m doing. You can’t understand it, but dicks can. It’s me telling them when I’m going to be rough or when I’m going to be gentle or when I’m going to work them a little harder. I can tell how they feel by the way they twitch back or stiffen up more for me. If they offer me a lot of pre-cum, I see that as them giving me a special gift and I try and spoil them a little more.
“Here’s how I see it: Dicks have a mind of their own. Guys can’t control when they’re up or down, so we should view them as separate entities. Some cocks are sweethearts and we develop a synergy right away. We move together as one. It’s really beautiful. And sometimes that happens even if I don’t get along with the guy. We won’t click, but me and his cock will.
“And that can work. I’ve actually sort of fallen for dicks, but felt lukewarm about the guy. One guy I met at a club was a complete jerk, but had a beautiful cock that had a sort of bashful personality. I said to it ‘Let’s you and me bond, and we’ll leave him out of it!’ Same thing happened with one of my friend’s dads.
“Other dicks have been rude – like the one that spit right in my face almost as soon as soon as we first looked at each other. He was embarrassed and shriveled up, but I wasn’t gonna let him get away with that. I started sucking him anyway and insisted he come to me properly him even though his ‘owner’ was practically screaming because he had just climaxed. It took a bit of time, but I trained that dick to communicate with me properly.
“No matter what the guy is like, when I build up a relationship with a dick I’ve fallen for, I like to spoil it. I usually give it a lot of tongue and saliva. Dicks absolutely love this and it makes me happy when they’re happy.
“When each dick is ready, it finally knows to respond by spitting at you. The harder and longer they spit, the happier I know they are. I love that. That’s definitely them saying ‘Hello! Thank you!!!’ Some dicks just keep spitting and spitting; I know they have a lot to say and I make it a point to swallow all of it.
“When my time with a dick is done, I usually feel bad we have to part. So I like to kiss each one goodbye. Some have a sense of humor and drip on me or spit at me a little more. I always laugh — they’re being funny.
“But some just quietly recoil and pass out. That means I really worked them hard and they need their rest. Those are the special ones. They’re so tough and rock hard when we play together, but get soft and lovable when we’re done. Sometimes I’ll cuddle with them a bit before they’re out for the night. And I make sure to give them extra kisses so they’ll rest peacefully until next time.”