Carol Ch. 09

I knelt down to my trusty knees again, and looked up at him. My pussy had been bone-dry until then -- I was concentrating too much on getting him in the room. Then I was concentrating on keeping his mouth busy so he couldn't talk. But as soon as my knees hit the floor, I gotwet. I felt a flood of warm juiciness flow through my cunt, oh man!

If you ever want to give me a signal, Tyler, to blow some guy? Just tap my knees. They're my new erogenous zone. Any time I get on my knees, my cunt gets wet, my mouth starts to water. I mean, I start drooling. It's stupid, the way my body is wired now. If you tap my knees, I won't be able to say anything butyes.

So I capped my mouth over his cock, and I thought he came just then. But no, my saliva was running out of my mouth, down his shaft. I bobbed down and sucked it all back in, making a big slurping noise.

"Oh, shit," he gasped. "You're so wet!"

"Mmmm-hmmm," I agreed. "Sorry I have to go fast."

"You're on a schedule, I know," he said.

He was hard in under thirty seconds (unlike the older guy in Queens). I had his shaft in my hand, and I was pumping it like crazy, my mouth over the top half. I used my tongue to slather all up and down it. Every now and then, I just zoned out, working his cock.

I could smell him, and he smelled like the guy in Queens. When I closed my eyes, half the time I was picturing myself in his shitty little newspaper stand, gunking up my knees. It's like the rest of the day didn't occur, like it was just one long blow-job from morning to afternoon.

That's what sent me over. Plus the pressure of his cock on my lips, moving them in and out. Plus his pubic hair on my cheeks, when I sucked him all in. You know how I like feeling your stubble on my face? Same thing, but with his cock hair. The stubble makes me know I'm with a man, and that pubic hair made mereally feel like I was with a man.

I sort of sank my mouth down on his cock, and buried my nose in his pubis, and rubbed my cheeks against him. It made me come. I came, just by sucking some guy's cock. And it was a different kind of orgasm.

I think, as women get older, they get more, better, and different orgasms. This one just hit the base of my throat, and spread down my chest, into my stomach, into my cunt. I really knew what 'cunt' meant then, as a word. I wasall cunt, but my cunt was my mouth, and he was pissing this orgasm-feeling down my throat.

I was simply working my jaws, throbbing his cock with my tongue, and swallowing against the head with my throat. I had himburied in my face, Tyler. This pretty face you're staring at. My pretty little lips wrapped around his tool.

My orgasm passed, and I pulled back just as he shot off. It hit my cheek and slid down my front. Then I had him back in my mouth, and I was pulling hard as he spurted on my tongue. I kept it up until he started getting soft.

"Did you come, too?" he asked incredulously.

I rocked back on my heels, breathing hard. His eyes were devouring me -- my tits were flushed, with cum streaked on them. My mouth was open, a pool of his cum floating at the top, dripping over my lips.

I nodded, swallowing. "Shit yeah, that's never happened before."

"You were... I don't know the words. Awesome. I didn't know a blow-job could be like that."

"I get a lot of practice," I teased him. "You should've been at my initiation!"

We pulled ourselves back together. He said, "We should do this again."

I realized that, oh crap, he had just asked me back here for another blow-job. That was the first time he asked. Because -- remember? Just ten minutes before, we had agreed on the 'Ask 3 times and I say yes' rule.

"I don't think so," I said demurely. I was trying to get the cum off my chest, but I was just spreading it around. He was watching me play with it, trying to rub it into my tits, licking my fingers. With all that going on, how could I act all innocent and firmly shoot him down?

"No, really," he insisted. "This was so wonderful. You have to do it again."

He had now asked twice.

"This time was just a dare," I explained. "You're sure you want me to suck you off, every Thursday, in this study room, at this time?"

Trust me, Tyler, he was just a guy. I'm getting pretty comfortable with guys, and I knew he was nothing special. Just a normal, nice guy. But I guess I gave him that opening because I had this cool new rule, and I wanted to use it.

"Your boyfriend wouldn't have to know," he said. "I wouldn't tell anybody. Just ten minutes every Thursday! Please?"

That was the third time he asked.

You asshole, Tyler. You knew that would happen. You knew guys would be begging like puppies. I think it's the begging that turns me on the most. So in a way, it all works out just fine.

"Yes," I said. "Every Thursday." I had to say that. It was the rules, wasn't it?

"Really? You mean it?" He was exultant. Someone in the next study room over banged on the wall -- he was being too loud.

"Yes, I mean it," I whispered.

I'd given up trying to deal with the sperm on my chest. I'd only spread it around, and it was glistening on my neck and tits. I'd have to visit the bathroom and wash it off. I pulled my dress back up, and it was sticking to my tits, going all transparent like it does when I sweat in the subway.

"You're the best, oh, man!" He grabbed my face and gave me a hot kiss. And as I opened the door, he honked my tits again. "Your mouth is awesome!"

I dodged out of the room, but not before he'd cupped my ass, too. "Oh, thank you!" he whispered.

I got out of there.

He was hot on my tail, but I just walked along, ignoring him. I knew you'd want to see me coming back, so I went out on the main path again. I looked into the lounge, but I couldn't pick you out from all the faces there. They were all pointed my way, but I was back to not caring.

Before coming into the lounge, I turned off and went into the women's bathroom, to clean up.

And when I came out, you were there by the door with my bag.

* * * * *

We were back in my apartment. As she talked, she gathered the frock in her hands and pulled it up off her head in one smooth motion. It was dry -- there wasn't much of it to stay wet -- but it had a crusty imprint where it had covered her chest and soaked up the cum. And yes, people had noticed. And more would probably notice as she rode the train home that evening.

She joined me in the bed, climbing on top of me.

"There's more to this story," I told her.

"Oh, really?" She liked both telling the stories and hearing them.

My cock slid into her without any resistance. She gave a little shout that I'm sure our roommates heard. It sounded like tonight, she was primed to go multi-orgasmic.

"Yeah," I grunted. "We all watched you drag that poor guy away."

She snickered at that.

"And we all watched you come back, with him chasing you. And your tits all shiny and messed up."

"Everybody could see?"

"I bet they could. If I could see it, they could."

"I'm such a fool," she groaned. It was a sexy groan, not a humiliated one. Or maybe they were mixed together. "I was just thinkingyou should see."

"We all saw, baby. It was hot. You know that thing goes transparent when it's wet?"

"The thingis transparent," she smiled. "In the right light, you can see right through it. I think it's my riskiest dress."

"But it's beige, and usually people have to guess, or look closely. But it was see-through. Wow. And you jumped into the bathroom."

"I sure did. I told you I didn't manage to do much more than spread the cum over my tits."

"That was the best," I added.

"You like that? Should I wear cum every day, do you think?"

She was teasing me, but there was an edge of seriousness to it that made me consider it. I asked, "Do you think you could get turned on, by the feeling of cum drying on you? And wearing it around, like clothes?"

She bit her lip, looking down at me. Her hips were rocking back and forth, milking my cock. "In one day, my knees have become an erogenous zone. I get turned on by being on my knees. I think I could get turned on by cum spattered all over me for the world to see."

"We'll have to try it," I said.

"Just a splatter, here or there, drying into a crust? Like, I put on my earrings. I put on my lipstick. I put on my watch. I rub some cum on me?"

She was testing it out. The concept was totally turning her on. I could feel her getting wetter and wetter.

"Somewhere where the air can hit it--" I added.

"And people will notice it."

"And it's shiny, but it dries into a white little crust. Like a streak."

"Like a little dribble of semen that I missed when I was cleaning up." She groaned, louder than ever. I heard the TV in the other room get turned down. My horny room-mates, turning down the volume, so they could hear Carol having sex. "On my neck. On my shoulder. On my tits."

"There's more to the story," I reminded her.

"Forget the story for a second. Make it a rule. Make the cum-rule. Fuckit: I'll make it myself. New rule -- when I'm blowing a guy, I have to take one of the spurts on my body. I have to let it dry. And if people ask, I have to be honest about it."

"That's a great rule," I said.

"You think so? Are you proud of me?" She had a marvelous smile on her face.

I dug into her deeper, to make her louder. I was thinking of how my room-mates looked at her. Especially after she'd just had a screaming orgasm. She never mentioned it, perhaps she thought the door blocked the noise.

After sex, I decided, I'd ask her to go out in a towel to take a shower. And I'd ask her to stay in the towel while we all hung out and watched TV. Yeah. She'd do it, too. By this point, a towel was more modest than her street clothes.

"After you went into the bathroom, that guy came into the lounge."

"He did?" she peered down at me.

"He went to the big table. All your buddies were there, staring at him expectantly. He said, 'Guess which girl named Carol, also known as Cock-tease, just gave me the best blow-job of my life?'"

I'd rehearsed it, to make it come out smoothly. I had to give credit to the guy -- he had delivered the line like a pro.

Carol was frozen above me. "He... He knew who I was?"

I nodded, smiling.

She said, "He knew my name? He knew my name is Cock-tease?"

"Your name is Carol," I said.

"Whatever," she said. "He knew, and he didn't tell me?"

I said, "His friends were all slapping high fives, saying stuff. Carol, theyall knew you."

"Oh, fuck!" Her hips were shaking, driving my cock wild. Her fingernails clenched my chest. She was coming, but keeping it under control.

I said, "And you, Carol, didn't recognize him! He was laughing, about how every day you and he hang out, and you kiss him. They were pressing him for details. I heard, first hand, what guys think about your cock-sucking. He said you were the best, and you had an orgasm because you love cock so much."

My voice was lashing her, making her lose control. She was building a bunch of small orgasms into one big one.

"And he told them how, afterwards, you smeared the cum all over your chest, as you talked to him. And you promised to do him, every Thursday. You didn't even get a signed note, for your 'sorority' dare!"

She mewled like a kitten. She might've been past words, but she wasn't past hearing.

"And all your buddies heard about it, and half the lounge. And every time you walk into that lounge, those people will know you suck cock. And all the guys you meet -- all your 'friends' -- could be guys who know you're a cock sucker. You don't know. You don't even know which of your friends you sucked off. You have so many kiss-and-touch friends now, you don't even know who they all are! A guy could walk up to you, put his hand on your thigh and kiss you, and you'd kiss right back, and let his hand slide up your leg, never even knowing he was a complete stranger!"

Her pelvis was machine-gunning against mine. I kept talking, trying to get her to come with my voice alone.

"And you were playing with his cum. Rubbing his cum into your tits. Sucking his cum down into your stomach. Walking past all his friends with cum on your chest. The same friends you talk to, hug, kiss -- all of them will now be checking you out for cum stains."

She gave a screaming orgasm. It lasted about fifteen seconds, and she was sobbing afterwards. I had come, meanwhile, and I hugged her to me.

* * * * *

I was laughing, she was laughing and crying both. "You're the best. We have the best sex in the world!"

"You're the best, too," she whispered.

"Next time we fuck, you gotta leave the door open a crack. I want my roommates to hear what I do to you."

"Okay," she said simply.

"And, in a few minutes, you should go out and apologize to them. For being so noisy."

"Okay, sure," she sighed.

"Just wear a small towel when you go."

"Okay."

I hugged her even closer. "I love it when you just say,yes yes yes. And I know you mean it."

"I love it too. Always saying yes, never saying no. Everything's perfect. I love it when you make me so mushy -- so happy that I can't say no." She squeezed me with her pussy, and my cock slid out. "You want me to go talk to them in a towel?"

But instead of Carol going out to antagonize my roommates by being nearly-naked and available, she fell asleep. We both dozed off, comfortably nestled together. When she woke up it was eight o'clock, and time for her to go home.

She insisted she was okay, she didn't need me to walk her to the subway. She kissed me good-bye, and let me snooze peacefully. When I woke up again, well rested at 11pm, all I had was the memory of her amazing day, and the scent of her perfume in my room.

I felt guilty.

Carol was the perfect girl. Beautiful face, with widely placed green eyes, full lips and a strong chin. Crazy, thick, curly, expensive-looking blonde hair. Strongly muscled body -- she jogged every morning, and ate like a horse. Intelligent, getting A's in all her classes, soaring through papers and midterms. Intensely interested in everything, frequently drifting into question and answer sessions with strange men about oblique topics. Innocent, ambitious, willing to forgive, unwilling to judge. When we weren't playing our sexy games, she had a goofy sense of humor that always bubbled to the surface.

I was suffering crisis of conscience. I wrote her an email, detailing all my plans for the next night. I knew she'd check her messages in the morning, and this would be the first thing she read when she woke up.

I wrote everything I planned, and when I finished, I added:

"I love you, but it's a crazy love, and I'm addicted to everything about you. If you've read all this, you know I'd like to take us to the next level. If you don't want to do this, don't come to dinner. I will still love you, but I'll know that we should make our relationship more normal. If you do show up, I will love you and keep you safe for as long as you want me."

I reread the message, and before I lost my nerve, I pressed Send.