Cock of Ages Ch. 09

byCreamer©

"Sounds like an eventful evening. You give them my story?"

"Oh, yes, they ate it up. I played it up for you, just right – my thanks for the headjob from Cary the other night."

"Maybe I can help you out again. Any of the other ones available?"

He shrugged. "Three or four. But those three are sure things."

"Great. Send the . . . blonde a drink and tell her I want a moment of her time."

Donald nodded knowingly and casually moved to do just that. She didn't come immediately, trying the "hard-to-get" act. I hate coy, especially when I'm working. I made a mental note to punish her for that.

When she finally did sashay over to me, swinging her hips suggestively, I was ready. She slid onto the barstool next to me and dropped into a thick Southern drawl.

"Do I have you to thank for that delicious drink?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.

"Sorry, sweetie, you move to the back of the line," I growled. "Delay of game. Three girl penalty. If you have the guts to stick around, maybe I'll let you play. But you wasted my time, and I hate that. Back to your perch," I said, nodding sternly. She looked shocked, obviously not used to being spoken to like that when she was considering surrendering her favors. She started to protest, then Donald caught her eye and shook his head almost imperceptibly. She took the hint and slunk back to her stool, eyes downcast.

"Next," I said. "The redhead."

Another drink, and this one took the hint. She came over almost instantly.

"Hi, I'm Sandy," she said, sweetly.

"I'm Mikey," I said, gruffly. "I've already spanked one of you girls for giving me trouble, Sandy. Am I going to have trouble with you?"

She looked at me thoughtfully. "Is what I hear about you true?" she asked.

"That I'm filthy fucking rich and looking for a slut to marry to piss off my respected folks?" I asked. "Yeah, that part is true. I've been told you might be interested. Is that true?"

"If you get me the hell out of this shit hole of a town, I'll fuck donkeys at your mother's birthday party and then make balloon animals for the kiddies," she said.

I laughed so hard rum came out of my nose – not a pleasant feeling.

"That was good," I acknowledged as I patted my nose with my hanky. "You must really hate it here."

"You always hate your hometown, Mike," she said with a sigh. "I guess Tampa is no better or worse than any other place. Just been here too long. I would love to get away, and it's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man. So I'll be your slut, if you want. I'll be a fucking whore. Just take me away, and I'll do whatever you want."

"An admirable attitude, and one that should serve as an inspiration to young girls everywhere," I agreed. "This is the deal: I'm here for a few weeks. I plan on fucking everything in a skirt. If I can find one of you I can stand, I'll make an offer. But until then, the field is wide open. So, what can you offer me, Sandy?"

"Besides the birthday party thing?" she asked, wryly. "Well, I can suck dick," she said, the words sounding wickedly nasty out of her mouth. "I can fuck you off your feet, in any position. And I've been known to . . . take it in the back door. I love sex, dirty nasty sex, and I was probably a French whore in a previous life."

"So if I wanted a blowjob audition in the back room . . .?"

She looked up, instantly. "Don, the key?"

He tossed it to her, and she caught it expertly. "Let's go," she said, leading the way.

I followed her, eyebrows raised, as I mouthed to Donald "I like her!"

She was evidently familiar with the way, and she pulled me into the dusty storeroom. It still smelt like a storeroom, despite my attempts to make it smell like a brothel two nights before. Sandy turned to me and immediately began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Just a blowjob, for now," I said.

"Look, I'm trying to impress you," she said, patiently, revealing her stark white bra. "I have great tits, and I want to use them. Okay with you?"

I shrugged. Why not?

They really were nice when they were released from their silky prison – two even globes, ivory pale, with bright pink nipples the size of silver dollars. She was freckled around her neck and arms, but her boobs were free of the sunspots – a real ginger girl, no doubt about it. She posed for me in the dim light and encouraged me to feel them. Nice.

"You want to stand or sit?" she asked, politely.

"I'll stand," I decided. She nodded and smiled and slipped to her knees while she unzipped my fly. She paused long enough to give it a few admiring strokes.

"No offense, but I expected something a third of this size," she said. "Most rich guys seem to have little dicks. Apparently you and JFK are exceptions."

"You've blown JFK?" I asked, surprised.

"Only in my dreams," Sandy said with a giggle. "But my aunt went to Vassar – yes, believe it or not, she did. Apparently Jackie liked to brag."

"I've heard that," I admitted. Her fingers were doing lovely things to my shaft, and she snaked her other hand down to gently cup my testicles. Without further ado she leaned forward and took just the very tip between her lips and began a slow, steady, and incredibly good blowjob.

"You've done this before, I take it?"

"Once or twice," she admitted mischievously. Maybe once or twice this week – Sandy had some skills. She continued, demonstrating an ability to slide as much as two thirds of my length in her mouth. And she had rhythm, moving her hands in perfect concert with her mouth.

I reached down and cupped both of her tits with my palms, fingering the nipples roughly – and she pressed them tighter against my hands. Then I put my hands on the back of her head and encouraged her to go deeper. She did so without complaint. My ring was cold, so wasting a load on her pussy wasn't imperative. Instead I found myself emptying my nuts down her throat in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"Wow," I said, when I caught my breath. "That was impressive. And I'm jaded as hell."

"Thank you, sir," she said with a wicked smile. "Was that a successful audition?"

"I think so," I agreed. "Come to my room tonight, and we'll see how far it goes." I gave her the hotel room number while she licked me clean, and I smoked a cigarette while she put her top back on and straightened herself up. I paused just long enough to lean in and kiss her blowjob soft lips, and I felt her sag a little in my arms. She was pretty keyed up, I guessed. To confirm that my right hand stole up her skirt unopposed and dug past the legband of her panties, then burrowed between her soft lips to her moist channel. I plunged my finger in a few times, then pulled it out and tasted it.

"Like honey," I pronounced.

"That bodes well," she grinned. "See you later tonight?"

"I might have friends with me," I warned.

"Bring whoever you want," Sandy assured me. "I'm up for anything."

I led her back to the bar and she gave me a wink before going home to prepare. I sighed and Donald got me another drink.

"That was fast," he noted.

"She was good," I observed. "She got straight to the point. I like that."

"Let me know when you're ready for the next one," he nodded, and went to make someone a martini.

I smoked a couple of cigarettes and flirted across the room with a few chicks who had come in late. I got some of the appropriate responses, including a sullen glare from the blonde – Lori was still at the bar, licking her wounds. When I felt ready to strike again, I nodded to Donald and he put a drink in front of Madeline, the brown-haired girl with glasses. She beamed at me brightly and hustled over.

Madeline was a big woman – not fat at all, but tall. At least five-eight, and she was wearing what were, for 1963, modest pumps that added another inch to her height. She was a tall woman, but the monster boobs on her chest suggested she might be worth the climb.

"Hi!" she said, offering her hand. "I'm Maddie!"

"I know," I nodded. "You know the score, Maddie?"

"I think so. You want a wife—"

"Not really, but my parents seem to think I do. They've left the selection up to me. So I'm trying to find the nicest whore in Tampa to bring home to them. You seem like a nice girl, Maddie – can you be a nice whore?"

"I'll sure try!" she said, enthusiastically.

"Well, I can't ask for more than that," I agreed. "The last little lady I bought a drink for was kind enough to meet me in the back room for a preliminary interview. Are you up for that?"

"I don't see why not!" she said. She had a wide mouth, and her glasses were kind of doing it for me. I nodded and left my drink and smokes on the bar, leading her back. She seemed almost proud to go with me, even though half the bar knew the deal. Not very self conscious, was Madeline.

I closed the door behind me and Maddie smiled sweetly. I smiled back, and immediately felt her up. Instead of shying away she pushed out her chest proudly. She was very big, at least a D cup, and carried them well. I considered telling her to lose the shirt, but I decided to save that for later, if necessary.

"So you're looking for a wife," she said, softly, as she pressed her tits into my hands. "I'm looking for a husband: a filthy, dirty, horny husband who will use me like a whore every day," she said, sweetly. I couldn't help it – instant boner. This bookworm-looking babe was talking like a seasoned whore.

"Can you suck dick, Maddie?"

"Just like Daddy taught me!" she said, merrily, and got on her knees. She was clearly excited – she wasn't faking that. She was turned on by the situation, not just fishing for a wealthy husband.

"There's going to be a lot of competition, Maddie," I cautioned her as she plunged my cock into her mouth. "Lots and lots. This burg is filled with filthy whores. You're going to have to want it really bad to compete at that level. You up for that?"

"MM-hmm," she agreed enthusiastically with my cock deep in her mouth. She was breathing hard. She pulled off my dick for just long enough to say, "Grab my head and fuck my mouth." I shrugged and grabbed her head.

She had the deep throat technique down pat. I don't know if she actually did have some fatherly schooling in that direction, but if she did it had been going on for years. She took every inch greedily. Nice.

"What else are you willing to do?" I asked as her head plunged rapidly up and down my cock. To answer, she stood up and bent over the handy crate, presenting me with her ass. It was a nice ass, wide and ample, not small and tight. She flipped the back of her skirt up and shimmied her panties down, mid-thigh.

"Do me in the butt," she invited me with a mischievous grin. "Go ahead – I like it!"

I'm not one to pass up such a generous offer of sodomy, so I shuffled over and positioned my spit-moistened cockhead at her sphincter. Without warning I grabbed her hips and pushed into her. She gasped, then growled in pleasure.

"GOD I love it there!" she said. "When I was in school, I used to let the boys do me there so I wouldn't get pregnant and Daddy wouldn't know." She pushed back further, seating every inch of me in her rectum. "I got so I liked it a lot," she continued, grunting as I pushed inside. "But it's hard to find a guy who doesn't mind doing it. A lot of them think it's queer."

"I don't mind so much," I said, enjoying the tightness of her ass. She might have used it a lot, but you couldn't tell by feel.

"That's great! They even gave me a nickname in school – 'Rear Admiral' Maddie! Isn't that a hoot?" I agreed that it was. Despite her chatter, she was quickly approaching orgasm, having stolen a hand back between her legs. I stuffed my meat into her as fast and furious as I could, until my balls were smacking her busy fingers. We both came at the same time in a pleasant explosion. She collapsed limply on the crate, unconcerned for anything but the feeling of hard wet dick up her butt. She wiggled a bit, pulled me out, and quickly pulled her panties back up.

"That was really hot," she said as she straightened her skirt. "Really. I know you probably won't pick me, but it was worth it just to get a chance at that prick."

It was rare that I got compliments like that. "The pleasure was mine, Maddie. You want to come by my hotel room tonight, join a few friends and myself for more fun?"

She dimpled when she smiled. "I have to work tomorrow, but what the hell? I can always call in sick." I told her my hotel room number and mentioned that she should be ready for anything. She liked that, and after fixing her smudged makeup she beat a retreat. I took a long piss in the john before I returned to the bar, where a new crowd had gathered in our absence. A lot of young pretty faces, a lot of knowing looks. Word had gotten out.

"I dunno where they came from," Donald muttered to me as I took my seat. "But someone musta made a public address announcement somewhere. I've gotten at least ten chicks asking me about you, and three offers for head to introduce you."

"I do hope you took them up on it?" I asked. "I'll make them pay up-front before they get an audition."

"Consider it done," he assured me with a grin. "This round's on me!"

I smoked and waited a bit more, checking out the new talent. A little younger than before, but there were a couple of steely-eyed sluts who carried themselves with all the menace of a shark. Having this kind of selection was a bit of a departure for me, so I took my time choosing – I figured I could nail at least two, maybe three of them here before I went back to the hotel with Sandy, Maddie and whoever else I invited for a little orgy. That should give me enough time to cream in several.

I chose a very young teeny bopper next, with short blonde hair and a tight ass. She was almost speechless, like Cinderella at the Ball, when I took her back in the back. There was a murmur in the crowd when I did it, and a few hoots at her expense, but she blushed and carried on. I pushed her skirt up and had a ball-draining doggie screw with her, and it was clear that she had little experience with a dick this big. She was nearly in tears when it was over, and when I asked her to suck me clean she just looked at me, shocked. Too naïve, by far. I told her I'd be around if I wanted a further interview and left her, panties mid-thigh, in the back room.

Next up I finally picked Lori, again. She came to me quickly, this time, with her head bowed in embarrassment. Before I was a catch – now, I was the man who publicly wanted to use her. It had to be humiliating, knowing that everyone in the place was standing around waiting to see which girl I'd fuck next, and then being that girl. Not nearly as glamorous as being a rich man's plaything.

"Are you ready to drop the bullshit and get nasty, now, Lori?" I asked.

Cowed, she nodded. "Whatever you want, Mr. Winthrop," she said, just a hint of her oh-so-Southern accent remaining. "I can be very accommodating."

"Well, we'll find out, won't we?" I asked, sweetly. "Back room. I'll be there when I finish my drink."

She started to argue, then thought better of it, hopping off of her stool and retreating without looking at anyone. I took a long time to finish my drink, chatted with Donald about additional prospects, and letting him know I'd be back on Friday night for more "auditions".

Lori was waiting for me, and had moved the crates around a bit so that she'd have a place to sit while she sucked my cock. Thoughtful of her – especially in the face of the humiliation she'd endure. Girls in 1963 never admitted to sucking cock, after all – it was still the province of whores, here-and-now. That didn't mean they didn't do it – every culture practices oral sex, even if it condemns the act – but they didn't discuss it, and they damn sure didn't announce it to a whole bar full of people.

"Anytime you're ready, Mr. Winthrop," she said, patiently. I decided to give her points for perseverance. Most women would have fled by now.

"So, Lori, what's so important about landing a rich husband?" I asked, mockingly.

"I . . . every girl wants to marry well," she countered.

"But few will go so far as to essentially announce to the world 'I'm a cocksucker!' to a bar full of strangers with only the slightest hope of landing a good marriage," I chided. "So there must be more to the story."

"Yes," she said, "there is. But don't you think that kind of talk should be saved for after we're married?" she asked, softly.

I had to chuckle. "Fair enough." I hauled my cock out of my pants, still sticky with the nameless teenager's secretions. "You ready to play?"

"Any time," she agreed, her emotions under tight control. I stepped into her range and, before she had a chance to protest, stuck my thickening cock straight into her mouth. She started to gag a little at the intrusion, but she didn't complain. She went to work diligently, licking every inch of it as if it were chocolate. She preened and cooed and complimented me on my size and virility, but she was faking. I didn't mind. I was getting my dick sucked for the third time that evening, and the cool state of my class ring told me I could go ahead and unload in Lori's dedicated mouth.

I knew she was going to try to fuck me, try to get me to knock her up so that she could at least sue me for support. I was going to make sure that wouldn't happen. When she tried to pull away at a critical time, I grabbed the back of her head and power-stroked through to my orgasm, send a torrent of steamy, slimy sperm down her throat as she made reluctant, lamenting sounds.

"Not bad, not bad at all," I sighed as my cock flopped free – leaving a trail of sperm on her dress. She didn't notice. I didn't bother to point it out.

"Glad you liked it," she said, evenly. "Is there anything else I can do for you to convince you that I'm your woman?"

"Well . . . not tonight, but I'll be back here on Friday night. Show up and I guarantee a trip back to my hotel room for more . . . exhaustive auditions."

"Not tonight?" she asked, looking pained. "Tonight would—"

"Not be the night you're coming home with me. But Friday, you get an automatic shot. That's the best I'll do."

She looked defeated, but tried to hide her disappointment. "Okay, I'll see you Friday night, Mr. Winslow. And do enjoy yourself, this evening," she added as I patted her on the head and walked away.

Lastly, I went for something a little unusual. There were about a dozen standard "pretty" girls in the place, all eager to set their hook in me, but I resisted. Instead I picked a real "plain jane" who had a hungry look in her eye. Her name was Lacey, and she was nineteen, too, and when Donald placed a drink in front of her and told her where it came from, her eyes got wide as hubcaps. When her awe caught up with her, she joined me at the bar, looking in a daze. She wasn't ugly – just not pretty. Shoulder length brown/blonde hair, inexpensive but pretty pink dress, a cute nose that looked like it might have been broken, once, and decent 34B titties. She looked like she'd been chosen as Miss America.

"You . . . bought me a drink?" she asked, after introducing herself. "Why?"

"I like to give the underdog a chance," I said, as she took a seat. "There are a million pretty girls out there, Lacey. They all suffer under the illusion that they know how to fuck, and being pretty should be enough for me to want to get in their panties. I like your look, though – you look like a girl who knows how to fuck. Am I wrong?"

"No, I love to f-fuck," she assured me, the words coming to her mouth with some difficulty.

"Do you, now?" I asked, chuckling at her enthusiasm. "And if I asked you to suck me off in the back room?"

"That – that sounds good," she agreed.

"How about in a cab?"

"Sure," she said, only a little hesitation evident.

"Fuck you in an alley, bent over a trash can?"

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