April's Awakening

Ever since her sexuality had awakened a number of years ago, April had realized she was different. As an early bloomer, she had been aware of many things before her friends. But the number one thing that she became aware of was that this new feeling felt good. While her body changed, she also realized something else: girls who acted on these types of feelings were called sluts. April knew that it was an unfair label, since guys who acted the same way were thought to be normal. And so, April learned that when her urges were close to getting the better of her, it was time to be discrete. By the time she was a college student, her discretion was well practiced. At 21, she knew she was a knockout: a short bob of deep brown hair, 5'6" tall, a thin body, and 36D breasts that always, and she knew always, attracted attention from guys and some girls too.

It was a Wednesday night when she told her roommate Kaye that she had a date. As April finished dressing in tight black pants that made her pretty good butt look great, a red sleeveless button-down shirt that only accentuated her large breasts, and a black lace bra and matching thong, she chatted with her roomie about sex. Spraying sweet, fruity perfume twice on her neck and once on her cleavage, it crossed her mind that it was a pity that Kaye was not more adventurous... but April sighed and remembered that she would have her fun tonight nonetheless.

She drove 35 minutes north, to a large hotel that mostly attracted a business crowd. She went straight to the bar, sat, and ordered a rum and coke. She smiled as she took the first sip: she felt eyes on her, and knew that the men that were staring at her wondered if she was alone. April's rule was a simple one. Survival of the fittest, or, to put it another way, the first descent one who came up to her would get her. She shivered at herself and smiled, happy to be a closet slut. She ordered another rum and coke and waited.

It took 15 minutes. He came up, bought another beer, and introduced himself as Duane. April judged him to be in his early fifties. He looked reasonably fit, with black hair that had a touch of gray. She assumed that he had done this sort of thing before, because a few minutes into their chatting her drink was empty, and he bought her another... and another, and another. With each drink, April let herself be more flirty, letting him know just what kind of girl she was. After she drained her fifth drink, she leaned into him.

"I need to go to the little girl's room," she whispered. Duane nodded, wanting to be pleasant to this buxom young thing. April continued. "When I come out, I want you to be in your room. I'll come... tell me where." He told her, and she stood, pausing for a moment, letting him see her ass. Then she walked away.

In the bathroom, she double checked how she looked. Though looking at herself with drunken eyes, April knew that she looked completely fuckable. She opened her purse, looked for longer than it would have taken a sober girl, then found what she was looking for. Opening the container, April popped a birth control pill. Just in case, she thought to herself with a smile. She winked at herself in the mirror, and saw that her nipples were hard. She walked out of the bathroom and realized that she would have to cross the lobby to get to the elevators. Blushing, knowing that some would see the points on her shirt, and knowing that others might recognize her from other trips to the hotel, she made her way to the elevators, and stumbled to Duane's room. She knocked softly and said, "It's April." A voice from inside told her it was open, and inside she went.

The lights were low, and Duane was sitting by the window. He was wearing a bathrobe and holding a drink in his hand. "Come here," he said firmly.

She closed the door behind her and put her hand on her hip, trying to look cute. "And if I don't?" she asked with a smile. She was pretty sure he was naked beneath the robe, and she was definitely sure that she wanted to stay in control of this night, and this was where she would set the tempo.

He merely stared at her, and for the first time, April realized that her "I'm a prick tease and you want me more than I want you" routine wasn't working on him. She put her purse down on the floor and walked to him. She felt out of place, standing in front of him silently. She looked at him, as his eyes crawled all over her. Suddenly he said, "You have fantastic breasts. What are you, a 36D?"

She nodded, then added, "Yes... I am."

"Thought so. My daughter Susan is," and he took a drink, leaving April to wonder what exactly--"about your age, cutie pie." He paused, a big grin upon his face. He knew April was wondering more about him, now that she knew he had a daughter. Was he divorced? Married? She had assumed she had slept with married guys when she did these little hotel encounters before, but always told herself she was never sure. But now, it was almost like he was baiting her. Duane took another drink and spoke again. "Take off your clothes. Slowly."

For a moment, April thought about simply turning around and walking out. But then the excited energy deep inside herself reminded her that she was here to use a man, and if he was going to use her too, so be it. She unbuttoned her red sleeveless shirt, going fast at first, then slowing down for him. When she pulled the shirt open, she had calmed down, in part because of the carnal way he was staring at her breasts. She smiled and moved her hands to the waist of her pants.

"Nuh-uh," he said chastizingly. "The bra first, big girl. I want to see them now." Of course she complied. She reached behind herself, her breasts lifting up, and unlatched the black lace bra. Normally, she would have paused, letting the bra cover herself for another moment of anticipation. But she wanted to do as the man said, and so she simply lowered her arms and took the bra off. Duane stared at her big, hard, light brown nipples for a moment and took another drink, saying "Not too much sag for a girl your age. Continue."

April blushed. She worried about sag, but didn't think it was that much of an effect yet. Was she really so old? She continued to undress, softly pushing her tight black pants down to her knees.

"Stop," said Duane. "Turn around."

Her legs still in her pants, April slowly shuffled around, until her thong-covered butt was facing the man in his fifties.

"Mmmm," she heard him sound in anticipation. "Now THAT looks like an ass that's 21. Bend over a little."

Blushing at what seemed to be a back-handed compliment, she complied, pushing her butt out to show it off. Suddenly, she felt the sting of his hand from a fairly hard spank. She cooed happily, even though she was now questioning him even more.

"Now... now you can take that thong off, little girl."

She assumed he wanted to see something else, so she made sure that after lowering her thong, she bent over, letting her fully shaved pussy peek out at him. She was sure that Duane had seen it, but she didn't hear any reaction from him. So she stood up and faced him.

His eyes were set on hers. "Shaved, huh? I wonder when that became so popular with you girls."

That was now the third reference he had made to girls her age... and girls his daughter's age. It made April wonder.... With a congenial smile on her face, she replied, "Well, you guys sure seem to enjoy it."

"Cutie pie, there's something else that we guys enjoy."

She knew what he was asking for... she knew what he wanted. April wasn't here to get on her knees; she had come to find a horny older guy and to fuck him. She was here to get pleasure, to use a man, not to stand here naked as he sneered up at her. But somehow she felt, deep inside herself, that he saw her the way she really was... that he saw the young woman who was a slut and denied it. She looked to the floor, knowing that it was there that he wanted her. She complied and fell to her knees, knowing what was coming next.

He opened his robe, and she was right; he was naked beneath. She didn't need to be told what was expected of her; April simply pushed her short brown hair behind her ears and leaned forward, taking his hard cock into her hand. His pubic hair was very short, and it looked as though he had shaved his shaft and balls. In short, this was someone who gave no excuses when he wanted a blow job. Opening her lips, April wondered who the last girl was who put her mouth onto Duane's cock.

She was an old pro when it came to sucking a dick. She made her lips a semi-tight O and started to slowly bob her head up and down. She made her tongue wide and ran it back and forth over the soft underside of his penis, making him groan. She did it faster, and when he groaned again, April started to feel good about herself. She was making him feel good, and she was happy.

Normally she hated it when a guy put his hand on her head during oral sex, but when Duane did it, April didn't mind at all. At first it was there stroking her hair as she moved her head up and down, making her lips tighter. Then she became aware of the increasing pressure on her head, and realized that he wanted more of his cock in her mouth. She complied, pushing down. His balls, feeling warm and loose, pressed against her chin. It felt degrading and wonderful. It felt like just the sort of thing a slut would do.

April then started to go faster, trying to anticipate his wants. She took a hand and lovingly ran her fingers across his balls, then let her fingers settle around his penis. Making a tight ring around the base, she moved her hand in unison with her lips. She curled her tongue, letting the tip taste where his precum was coming out, letting the rest of her wet, soft tongue press firmly onto his sensitive underside. She was surprised by how good he tasted: his penis, his precum, everything. A thought crossed her mind and she shivered: she couldn't wait to feel his cock explode in her mouth, letting her taste his cum.

As though reading her mind, Duane spoke up, his voice pleasant but firm. "I am going to cum on your face in a minute, little girl."

April only had one rule, one that she had kept since a very bad experience in high school: no one can cum on her face. She had long ago accepted that guys had a thing about cumming on a girl, and she was used to them wanting to cum on her big tits, or her tummy, or sometimes even her ass. But on her face? It was out of the question. April knew from experience that with his cock in her mouth, she had him in the palm of her hand. All she had to do was stop the blow job, tell him no, and wait for him to agree, with the implication being that the longer he made an issue out of it, the longer he wasn't getting her wonderful mouth on his cock. That's it, she said to herself. Just stop and tell him no.

She nodded her head yes, feeling shame burn deep in her belly. Why had she just done that? Why did she feel so powerless? She didn't have time to wonder about it: his cock was starting to swell in her mouth, and she knew he was close.

His hand, now on her cheek, guided her head back; she kept her lips tight, making a loud slurping, slutty sound as his cock left her mouth. She closed her eyes, getting ready.

"No," he said, tapping a finger on the side of her head in an annoyed fashion. "Eyes open until it starts."

April opened her eyes, seeing that his penis was two inches from her nose. His hand was around it as he jerked himself off. She felt two emotions. First, disappointment that he wasn't going to cum in her mouth; and second, that he was making her be degraded like this. Didn't he know that said something about a girl who let cum get on her face?

He knew, but he simply didn't care. Duane groaned, and April saw his penis move and she shut her eyes. There was a split-second pause in the darkness, then she felt the hit of a warm glob of cum on her right cheek, then another on her forehead above her right eye, then a third weak one on her chin... she felt what surely was his penis touch her chin, and felt a bit more fluid leak out and slowly move down her chin and onto her neck

She heard him sigh, felt his hand move away, and she knew he was done. She sat there for a moment, feeling the warm cum ooze down her face and neck. And she knew he was watching her, marveling at the sight. "Here," he said, and suddenly he was cleaning her face with a lace cloth. Well, not her face; he was cleaning her eyes so that she could open them. She slowly opened her eyelids and looked up at his smiling, satisfied face.

"That was amazing," a voice said, and April realized that it was hers.

He patted her on the head and told her to go clean up in the bathroom. She did, closing the door. In the ultra-bright light, her naked body, cum-covered face, and red knees looked marred but still beautiful. April didn't care; she wanted to get clean and leave. She ran hot water onto a face cloth and spent a few minutes scrubbing. Then, in the other room, she heard a cell phone ring and assumed it was his. After a few rings, he answered it and started to talk to the person on the other end. She heard his voice coming closer to the bathroom door, and he asked the person on the phone to hang on.

"April," he said, "I've got to see a client upstairs. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Fat chance, she thought, wanting to leave and happy that her exit would be while he was gone. She heard the door to the hall close, and stepped out into the bedroom. Her clothes had been lovingly laid out on the bed: shirt, pants, and bra. It took her a split second to realize that her thong was gone. She looked around for it, but it was simply missing, and probably he had it. She reached for her bra, and saw that underneath it was a note.

"April," it read, "I assume you're leaving for tonight. Write down you phone number and I'll call next time I'm in town. Duane." The note was not a request.

Disgusted with herself, she dressed in a hurry. The walked halfway to the door and picked up her purse. Taking out a pen, she returned to the note, left her number, and decided that it was time to go home.

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Thanks to JayneC who was a great editor for this story! Readers may feel free to contact me at the address in my profile.