FocusTunes Ch. 01

The tightness of her throat feels great, but the grip in my hand feels somehow better. I pull her head back until I can't feel the tightness anymore and then push it back in, enjoying the slowness and depth of the strokes more than anything else. I remember to look down again after a few pulses and see tears streaking down her clenched eyes, and before my vast mental treasury of deepthroating clips reminds me that of course her eyes are gonna fucking water when you're choking her with a meat cucumber, I pull out in a panic.

"Are you okay?" I ask like I care, when I still have a death grip in her hair and exactly one thought on my mind. She coughs lightly, like a lady, and spits the new saliva into her hand -- immediately, it's on my balls, squeezing and tugging again with a delightful firmness.

"I thought you were going to grab my hair and make me do it; not ask me." It's a lighthearted tease in a singsong tone again, but it works to perfection. Immediately I shove my dick back into her mouth and start pumping it down her throat, using my grip on her head to keep it in place as I strike with my hips. All thoughts of minimizing outside noises are gone as I revel in the beat of her esophagus gasping open, my balls slapping against her chin, the occasional cymbal clash of her gag reflex forcing spit out of her mouth and onto the floor.

I'm quickly running out of stamina for the facefuck and for the blowjob altogether, so I release my grip and lean back -- Miranda's on my cockhead immediately, sucking hard and wet with the intent to make me cum. The volcano warms up almost instantaneously, denied its first eruption and desperate for its second opportunity. Just when I think I'm close, her lips pop off.

Before I can protest, her hand is going to town, her small fingers a vice around my cock. With spittle across her cheeks and on her chest, her eyes pleading with me from below my red-hot dick, she's the exact image of the girl that made me cum before. And then she starts to talk.

"I'm so fucking lucky you let me suck your cock. God, I needed it so bad down my little throat. And now I need your cum -- I need it so fucking bad. I'm a good little cocksucker who needs cum, and I'll always be your good cocksucker, fucking begging for your cum, fucking pleading for cum in my mouth or on my tits or in my hair or on my face--"

I made it that far, which looking back, seems above expectations. I exploded in her hand before I could consider giving either her or myself a directive, so the first jet caught her across the face, thick and full over her forehead and across her nose. By the second jet she had latched herself back on, my cock achieving its ultimate fantasy of being her pencil eraser, nestled between her soft lips as it jerked and leapt, shooting two sessions' worth of seed into Miranda's mouth.

The comedown from a high like that? Like a G-force. I staggered backwards, my heart beating like a hummingbird's, my dick exploding with sensation. The breeze between my legs was nearly enough to make me yelp, I was so sensitive.

I found the toilet and dropped onto it, the porcelain cool against my bare ass. My eyes spun out of focus and then back into it, just in time to watch Miranda -- hands on thighs, legs tucked neatly under her bum -- finishing swallowing the fruit of her labor. She licked her lips contentedly. Her eyes never left mine as she stood up, stepped forward, and sank right back down onto her knees in front of me. As if my relocation entailed a choreographed response from her.

"Tell me if it's too much," she said softly before leaning forward and bringing her tongue to my dick. I think she had the intention of licking it clean more than pleasing me again, but it was too much -- I quickly jerked and waved her off. She smiled and said, "I thought it might be. You really came a lot."

Still settled on her knees, still looking up at my cock, and through my cock to me with that quiet devotion, she appeased herself by dragging her finger through the cum on her face and sucking it clean until it was all gone.

I watched. I don't know what else you do when a sex object dripping with your cum sits between your legs and cleans the cum off with her tongue and a finger, so if you have an equally erotic and debasing response, leave it in the comments below. But I didn't, so I just fucking watched.

There was a silence once she was done. She seemed happy to stay where she was, and I had no idea what was going to happen if I tried putting my pants back on again, so I stayed stock still. If this was a dream, I wasn't fucking ending it.

So she spoke first. Somehow, after all of that, her tone was finally a bit embarrassed.

"So...that was kinda a lot." Her shoulders shuddered with a self-effacing chuckle as she looked down at the ground. "I don't really know what came over me. I just..." she trailed off.

"I'm sorry." I wasn't sure exactly what I was sorry for, but it seemed like the right thing to say in that situation. Just as a blanket, catch-all statement. She disagreed.

"No, no -- I'm sorry!" She insisted. "It didn't really seem like it was rape because you...you know, seemed so into it, but I realize I totally forced myself onto you and didn't give you a chance to consent to doing--"

"Wait, you're worried you raped me?!" Somehow this was the most astounding thing that had happened this evening.

"No!...I mean, I kinda--I don't know!" She was still abashed, but a little flustered now. "I was sitting there and I just suddenly decided, you know, 'I've wanted to suck his dick, so I'm just going to do it," so I got up and I did it."

"You wanted to su--...to come do that before you came in here and saw me...?" Now, she gave me a fully indignant glare.

"You thought I saw you jacking off and was just so turned on by the sight that I had to offer my services to assist in your noble efforts to fucking wank it?"

"Well, I don't know!" I was kinda upset that my deductive reasoning was being put in question in these unprecedented circumstances. "That's no more crazy than thinking you just all of a sudden wanted to suck my dick."

"Why is that crazy?" She was genuinely perplexed.

"Why is that crazy?!" I repeated back. Her expression was unmoved.

"That's what I wanted to do. I wanted to suck your cock. I wanted to beg for your cum." Dirty words, spoken matter-of-factly, by a smoking hot chick. I don't care how many times you've fucked; that'll send a twinge through your dick. It did mine. Miranda noticed it and smiled that dazzling smile again. "I still want to suck your cock. I still want to beg for your cum."

"Okay." I quickly stood up and sheathed my protesting dick before it could entice her into a round two. As I stood, she stood, dusting off her knees. Again with disturbing normalcy, she walked over to the mirror and inspected her reflection, looking for traces of cum and spit that weren't caught by her initial cleaning. She found a few unidentified wisps and took some toilet paper to them.

"So...what does this mean?" God, I was asking some dumb fucking questions today. She looked at me through the mirror and smiled again, but this was not one of her blowjob smiles -- it was one of her pitying ones.

"Ben, we're really good friends, and I just don't think we should be changing that right now. I love hanging out with you too, not just for tutoring or whatever. I think we need to keep that the way it is for now. It's just neater that way."

My heart sank. I didn't realize it had risen to such a height, but it was understandably out of calibration after Miranda and I had gone from "good pals" to "blowjob buddies" in the span of 10 weird minutes.

"But you literally just said that you wanted to...you know." I was still uncomfortable saying the words that she said so freely.

She turned, leaning back against the sink to thrust out her tits knowingly, her face still a mask of easy beauty. "That I wanted to suck your cock. And I still do. If you wanted to go another round right now, I would -- though I wouldn't advise it, champ." I rolled my eyes; she smirked. "But that's what that is, and so we should be what we've always been, Ben: good friends who trust each other and enjoy each other. And whenever you want your cock sucked, you know who to call."

I didn't know what to say to that. I was perhaps the first man disappointed to receive an open invitation for fellatio, but in that moment, I was disappointed. This was weird and I didn't understand it, and the reality of blowjob booty calls hadn't yet dawned on me as a pretty sweet boon. Fortunately, the intercom saved my awkward silence.

"The library will be closing in 15 minutes. Students are encouraged to return all books to the book return carts stationed around the library, or check out books at the front desk. The library will be closing in 15 minutes."

Silence again.

"Okay, non-suspicious two-people-leaving-one-bathroom strategy time." Miranda said sardonically, and suddenly she was friendly jokey Miranda again. "I'll dip out first, grab my stuff and go. Wait for a bit and then leave -- but don't forget to lock it before I go. Will you sign us out of the room at the front desk?"

"What? Oh...yeah."

"Okay, cool. Thanks for the help again today, I really appreciate it. Next Friday?"

"Yeah, next Friday."

"Alright." She grabbed the door handle, cocked her head, and sent me a twinkling glance. "Sweet dreams tonight, stud."

I involuntarily smiled at the overt delivery; she laughed as she left. The hallway before her seemed deserted, but I locked the door anyway, lingering for a moment where the smell of her perfume and stink of sex remained mingled in the air.

I stared at the door for a while, perplexed and satisfied and dissatisfied all at once. I don't know how much time passed as I turned things over in my mind. Miranda Plover had found me in the bathroom with the intention of sucking me off, found me jacking off, and was unperturbed by that discovery. She gave me a blowjob the likes of which even high-end porn couldn't capture, then told me she'd be down for as many more of those as I wanted -- just so long as we didn't change anything else about our relationship.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with all of that?

I decided eventually that enough time had passed. I took one last look around the bathroom, and thank goodness I did -- there was still jizz on the floor. I cleaned it up with a paper towel, went to wash my hands, and found my phone in the sink. Fuck me, this had been a haphazard event.

As I walked back into the hallways of the normal library on my normal school campus where normal things fucking happened, I unlocked my phone screen. I was currently on an open line with Miranda Plover -- and had been for the last 20 minutes.