This story contains a brief daydream of a woman performing oral sex on another woman, male masturbation, a brief daydream of female masturbation, a man performing oral sex on a woman, a woman performing oral sex on a man, a man and woman having missionary and "doggie-style" intercourse and a man reluctantly performing oral sex on another man. I offended people the first time I posted this by not alerting them to the twist at the end. For that, I am sincerely sorry.
The variety of sex acts made it difficult to select a category for it. Literotica doesn't have a "little bit of everything" category. Gay male readers wouldn't want to sit through the beginning of the story. Obviously the gay element is a problem for some straight readers. Non-Consent readers would be disappointed by the short section of reluctance.
I suppose that my difficulty in categorizing the story should have told me that really NO ONE would like it. This story started as a blog post to vent my frustration at a truly unfair situation, and it turned into "My Reference."
This is my first attempt to write from the man's perspective. I don't have a penis myself, but I've slept next to one for 15 years so I'm hoping I got it at least mostly right. This one is set in Fantasyland, that magical place with no STI's, no unplanned pregnancies, and no guilt that isn't specifically mentioned in the story. I had fun writing it, so I hope you have fun reading it. (I'd appreciate some gentle feedback to let me know if I handled that penis thing correctly.)
Carrie stormed into the faculty room and slammed her binder on the lunch table where I sat, eating my lunch. It was Taco Tuesday, my favorite. She scared the crap out of me, which made me spill taco guts all over my tie.
"That man has had it in for me since the minute he stepped into this building," she fumed.
"What happened now?" I inquired. I didn't really care for Carrie's sake, but we were all trying to get a feel for what life was going to be like under the "Roberts Regime".
"I am under direct orders to clear every training session with him before I even post it! How am I supposed to know which training I need to do if I cannot post it? I have been responsible for faculty technology training for two years now, and I have never needed administrator approval to schedule training. People sign up, I schedule the training. Simple as that," she ranted as she took the mail from her mailbox and grabbed her binder.
"I don't understand why he cannot just trust me, like Sandy did." She slammed the door as she left the room, and I could hear the clacking of her high heels fading away.
"What the hell was that?" the math substitute at the end of the table asked.
"Hurricane Carrie," I explained. "She's a little intense. She's just pissed because she won't get all her 'special privileges' now that Sandy is the Curriculum Administrator instead of the building principal."
"What did she do to earn those privileges?" the math sub asked with a raised eyebrow.
"They graduated from here together in the '90's," I told him. "Sandy takes care of her friends."
"Takes care of them, huh?" he asked wickedly.
I finally got his meaning. "No, no. Nothing like that," I said. "Her friends, her former teachers, the people she hired- they get the best schedules, the air conditioned classrooms, and the cushiest duties. Things like that."
"Oh," the math teacher said. He sounded disappointed.
For the first time, I thought about the possibility that Carrie had slept with someone to get this Faculty Tech. Trainer gig. Thanks to Mr. Substitute Math Teacher, I suddenly had a very clear, very naughty vision of Sandy, on her back, completely naked, legs spread wide with Carrie's head between her thighs. Her tongue was lapping gently at Sandy's pussy. In my vision, which was so vivid that it practically had its own background music, Carrie was wearing nothing but a red thong and her high heels as she bent her head in for another taste. Sandy's hands were rubbing her tits, and she was moaning as Carrie's fingers spread her pussy lips again..."
At that moment the bell rang, bursting my daydream like a soap bubble. "And not a moment too soon," I said to myself. My cock had just been starting to stir when I heard the bell, so I was grateful for the piercing sound.
"Can you believe Carrie quit that sweet tech trainer job? She had the life there for a while. Roberts must have torn her a new one after Sandy got involved," my buddy Sean said as I placed my empty beer bottle on the bar in front of me. Sean's chemistry class was across the hall from my biology classroom, but Mickey's Bar was a much more comfortable environment for discussing the morons we worked with. "I heard she told him he could go fuck himself."
"No way. Ms. English Teacher wouldn't dare use a word with only four letters," I said. "What's a really long word for fuck?"
"You'd know better than I would," he retorted. "I teach chemistry, for Christ's sake. I just wonder who they'll replace her with. This Roberts guy probably has a niece that needs a job or something."
"I applied for it, but I know I won't get it," I said, shaking my head as I placed my empty beer bottle in front of me on the bar.
"What won't you get?" asked Crystal, as she joined us at the bar. Crystal sometimes stopped by for a drink or two, but she was married with kids, so she never stayed long. She taught algebra and geometry, and her outspoken nature kept her from getting any slack from the administration.
"The Faculty Tech Trainer job. Cruella De Carrie quit," I explained.
"You would be so good at that job," she told me. "You do everything on those computers."
"Yeah, but he doesn't kiss anybody's ass, so he won't be first on that list," Sean added. He signaled the bartender for another round.
"It's just so frickin' frustrating," I said. "I work my ass off all the time, but because I didn't go to high school with Sandy, I get nothing. Who do you have to blow to catch a break in that place?"
"Careful what you wish for," teased Crystal. "We don't know anything about Roberts yet."
"Hell, I'd take it up the ass, if I thought it would get me the job," I said cynically as the bartender handed me my beer. She was young and cute, and she giggled a little when she heard what I said.
I blushed and held my hands up in front of me as I said, "You know that was a joke, right?"
She smiled and said, "Oh, sure. A joke," but when she returned with our change, she looked me in the eye with a playful look and slid something toward me. "Call me. Maybe I can help you get that job," she said in a low voice.
She sauntered off to wait on another customer, leaving me with my chin on the floor and her number in my hand, wondering what the hell she meant.
When I got home, Mousse, my Chocolate Lab, was practically tearing down the door to get out. I walked her and thought about the bartender at Mickey's and her offer. I thought that she was offering to blow someone for me, but I really kind of hoped she was offering to blow me. Fortunately, Mousse knew the way home because I was completely lost inside my own head.
I put Mousse's leash on the counter, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and headed for the shower. As the hot steam swirled around me, I convinced myself that she probably meant that she could get me a job at the bar or something. It didn't seem like a bad idea either, especially if it meant working with a hottie like that.
My cock was already in my hand when I allowed myself to picture her. She had to be ten years younger than I was. She didn't even look old enough to be in a bar, which I found oddly appealing. I started to stroke myself as I remembered our brief encounter.
I could see her working behind the bar. Beautiful hands pouring drinks, long legs barely hidden by her short shorts... I grabbed the bar of soap and washed quickly then returned my soapy, slippery hand to my erection.
As I stroked the length of my cock back and forth, my imagination was undressing her. I saw her leaning over to pick something up and her shorts falling to the floor. I moaned and gripped my cock a little tighter when I saw that light blue slice of fabric resting between her buttocks. "Of course she wears a thong," I thought, forgetting that this was all happening in my mind.
I was sure that she would be clean-shaven, and when she turned toward me and removed her panties, I saw that only a thin swath remained. I took my fingers and spread some of the pre-cum that was pooled at the tip of my cock around my shaft and started stroking a little faster. I was starting to move my hips back and forth in time with my fist.
I gazed at the swell of her breasts under her shirt and wondered if her nipples were pierced. She removed her tight, Hollister top, revealing the sweet, little bra that matched the panties that she had already dropped to the floor. In my daydream she looked down at my erection and licked her lips. I returned the look to her sex to find that her pussy lips were swollen and damp. I wanted to reach out and stick my fingers between those lips. Again I tightened my grip, imagining how tight her pussy would be.
Finally, her bra fell to the floor, revealing the most beautiful pair of tits that my imagination could conjure. They would fit perfectly within my hands.
I was pumping my cock with my hand, hard and fast, and I could feel my orgasm approaching. My hips could hardly keep up with the pace of my jacking hand.
My mind returned to those beautiful, luscious tits, to imagine her nipples. Mmmm... Just as I expected. Light pink areolae, long nipples and a glint of gold. Each nipple wore a small gold ring.
My tongue flicked out of my mouth to tease a nipple, to play with the pink, pierced nub. Suddenly, my cock felt like it was exploding. My whole body flexed, and I stroked hard. The cum began spurting from the tip of my cock, just as my lips closed around her nipple in my mind.
My orgasm lasted much longer than it usually does when I'm by myself. I'm also sure I yelled louder than I normally do. This orgasm was by far the best that I'd ever achieved without an actual woman there to help me. I finished my shower, brushed my teeth, and went to bed without even finishing my beer.
I knew it was crazy, but I also knew that I would call her in the morning.
I sat on the couch with a cup of coffee, a stack of lab papers to grade, and my cell phone on the coffee table in front of me. I wasn't usually nervous about calling a girl, but I just didn't know what her intention was, and I certainly didn't know what I planned to do about it.
I tried correcting some papers to calm my racing thoughts, but after reading the hypothesis on the first paper four times, I knew I was wasting my time. I looked down at the slip of paper in my hand. Chelsea Bauer. I picked up my phone and dialed.
"Hello?" she answered in a perky voice, which immediately reminded me of her perky tits. My cock was already twitching, so I took a deep breath and jumped right in.
"Hi, Chelsea. It's Steve, from the bar last night?" I said uncertainly.
"Are you the one with the new Porsche or the one who wants a new job," she teased.
I wasn't prepared for teasing so I started to stammer, "Uh, you gave me your number..."
She only let me flounder for a second before she said, "I'm kidding you! How are you?"
"Good. Confused, I guess," I fumbled. "I'm just going to bite the bullet and ask. What did you say to me last night?"
"Oh, about the job? I just meant that you could use me as a reference. I can be very persuasive," she replied.
"For the job at school, right?" I clarified.
"Of course," she laughed. "Did you think I was gonna get you a job at Mickey's?"
"Well," I said sheepishly. "The thought had crossed my mind."
I could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "Well, I can't recommend you for a job if I don't know you. I suppose we should get together so I can make sure you are the right candidate for the job. What's the job again?"
"Faculty Tech. Trainer," I replied. "Can we have dinner tonight?"
"No good. I bartend, remember?" she said. "The boss frowns on taking Saturday nights off. How about tomorrow around noon? We can meet for brunch at the Battlefield Inn."
"Sounds great. Should I bring my resumé?" I teased.
"Meet you at noon," she said.
"Can't wait," I said sincerely.
I hung up the phone and returned to my lab reports. I still had trouble focusing, but I forced myself to get them done.
Over brunch we chatted and got to know each other. I learned that she had a degree in Special Ed, but was taking some time to decide if that's really what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. I told her about my bachelor's life, Mousse, my job teaching freshmen and sophomores, and how I was looking to move on from teaching biology all day long.
"Is this why you want the tech job so badly?" she asked.
"Yeah. I got my master's in Educational Technology, and I feel like I'm wasting my degree. I'm just ready for the next step." I paused and took a sip of my coffee. " In my career and my life, I guess. I'm starting to feel old."
She slapped me gently on the arm, and said, "You're not old!"
"Ok, but I'm not getting any younger, and I'm not making any progress," I said. "Take this job, for example. I'm not going to get it because I refuse to kiss anyone's ass. It pisses me off that certain people are given opportunities because of who they are instead of what they can do."
I drained my coffee, trying to cool my temper. This was a hot topic for me, and it didn't take much for me to lose my composure.
"I work in an environment where half of the employees were hired because they were related to someone on the school board. The other half gets special treatment and opportunities because they went to high school with the boss. And the woman who just quit this job, I swear she was hired because she wears high heels and has big tits!"
I stopped and looked at her, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."
She smiled, and put her hand on my thigh, "Let's get out of here. I want to meet your dog."
When I opened the door to my apartment, Mousse barreled out onto the porch and knocked Chelsea into a chair.
"Christ, Mousse! You're heavier than she is! Down, girl!" I pulled Mousse back and clipped her leash to her collar. "She needs a walk."
Chelsea rubbed her ears with both hands and baby-talked, "That's a good girl." She grabbed the leash and the pooper-scooper from the floor, and started down the stairs.
"I got this," she yelled over her shoulder to me.
"Just take her down to the corner and back," I returned, "but I hate to make you scoop poop on the first date!"
They were half-way down the block already, so I took the opportunity to tidy up quickly. I'm not a slob, but I didn't want her first impression to be clutter. I put my coffee cup in the dishwasher, dumped the rest of last night's beer, and made my bed in a hurry. I sat on the porch, and waited for the girls to return.
Chelsea and Mousse made themselves comfy on the couch while I got some bottles of water from the fridge.
"Sorry this is all I have to offer," I said. "It's water or beer. We just finished breakfast, so I thought we'd be better off with water."
"This is great. Thanks," she replied.
I sat in the recliner opposite the couch and watched her love up my dog. I saw her delicate hands running across Mousse's back, and I felt like I was sucked back into Friday night's daydream. I could almost feel her hands on me now, running over my back, my head, my ass...
"Steve. Steve. Are you ok?"
I jolted back to reality to find Chelsea approaching me. I jumped out of the chair, realizing too late that my little reverie had made me hard enough to see my erection outlined through my jeans.
I saw her eyes travel down my body and come to rest on the bulge in my pants. My cheeks felt hot, and I was trying to stammer an apology.
Chelsea stopped me with one hand on my lips and one hand on my fly. "Shh," she whispered. "I was coming over to wake him up, but I guess he's all ready to come out and play."
I didn't have a chance to say anything before she knelt down in front of me and unbuttoned my jeans. I closed my eyes and heard my zipper going down slowly.I took a deep breath as she pulled my jeans and boxers down to my knees, and I felt a little relieved when my cock sprang out in front of me.
"Ooh," she cooed as she took my cock in her hand. "Someone's happy to see me."
"It's been a while since he's seen anyone but me," I admitted.
She started stroking me, and I moaned. I touched her hair gently as she touched the tip of my penis with her soft tongue. I shivered a little. It really had been a long time.
I leaned into her a bit, and she responded by opening her mouth and allowing my cock to slide along her tongue toward the back of her mouth. She closed her lips around my cock and started moving her head back and forth, taking the length of my cock deep into her warm, wet mouth. I could feel her tongue moving along the underside of my penis. She pulled her mouth off and licked from the root of my shaft to the head. I felt her tongue licking the pre-cum out of my slit and swirling around the head of my cock.
I laced my fingers through her hair and groaned, knowing that I wouldn't be able to hold on for long. "Oh, suck my cock. Suck it hard," I moaned. "That's it, baby. Suck my hard cock."
She took my balls in her hand and started sucking. "Oh, God, that feels good. Do you like that cock in your mouth, baby?"
"Mmmm, hmmmm," was her response. That pushed me right to the brink.
"I'm gonna cum. Oh, you're making me cum. Here it comes. I'm cumming. Unghhh. Oh, God. Oh, fuck. Ooohhh."
She sucked me right through my orgasm. I had expected that she would take my cock out of her mouth as I came, allowing my cum to spray her face, but that was probably because my only recent sex "partners" had been the porn stars in my stash. Before I could gather my wits to offer directions to the bathroom sink to spit it out, she stood up and kissed me. Her tongue ran through my mouth, and I could taste my cum.
"A swallower, huh?" I teased.
"Why do you think I sucked your cock? Just to make you happy?" she said sarcastically. "Where do you sleep?"
"Tired already? You work for ten minutes, and you need a nap?" I asked her.
"Um, no. You're going to eat my pussy until I cum on your face, then you're going to fuck me," she replied. "Take your pants off. You look silly like that."
I took all of my clothes off and left them on the chair. I took her hand and led her to my bed, suddenly grateful that I thought to make it for a change.
I lay back on my pillow with my fingers laced behind my head. I was nude and my cock was already hardening again. Chelsea was still completely clothed.
I said, "You are way over-dressed for this party."
She didn't say a word. She unbuttoned her shirt slowly and stared into my eyes. She opened the front, and let the fabric slide down her arms onto the floor. Her bra was white, not blue like in my vision, and the anticipation of seeing her tits was almost too much for me to handle. I put my hand on my cock and stroked it lazily. I was so fixated on her tits, I didn't notice her skirt coming off until I heard it flop to the ground.
I made some sort of soft sound as I exhaled, betraying just how aroused I was.
She smiled as she reached behind her back to release her bra. I stroked harder, not knowing how else to contain myself. As her bra came down, she cupped her breasts, teasing me. I was surprised to see that her nipples were not pierced as I had imagined. They were, however, completely erect, long and delicious-looking.