He Made Me Ch. 09

"I wanna ride you!" she said, her words travelling in a cloud of smoke, and then, with a finger, she pushed my forehead down, until I was lying on her bed.

I opened my leg, imagining that she wanted to fuck me with a strap-on, but instead she mounted on the mattress herself, straddling my hips.

"You know, this is the first time I do this!" I whispered with a smirk, as she moved forwards on her knees. "I'm so happy that it's with you" were my last words, before Barbie parked her pussy on my face.

While she slowly gyrated her hips, smearing her sex on me, I stuck out my tongue to lube her thoroughly with my saliva. From down there, her huge boobs with her twinkling nipples danced above me in the darkness and hid her face. My hands had just reached my own pussy, when she thrust her pelvis forwards and grabbed my hair, pushing me to massage her asshole with my tongue, with my nose diving in her vagina. The lewdness of the act turned me on like crazy and apparently did so to Barbie too, who moaned in pleasure. We stayed like that for a long time, a testament of how good I had gotten at anilingus. It was hard to breathe and the air was saturated with the smell of her excitement.

All of a sudden, Barbie began moving her hips back and forth, using my whole face to fuck herself, my chin and my nose not much different from the bulges you could find on some sex toys. I tried to use my tongue the way I did when I ate pussy, but to no avail. So I closed my eyes and kept it still, stuck out, concentrating on masturbating myself. Her juices were covering most of my face, which in turn spread them on her inner thighs. The more she was turned on, the weaker her legs grew and the stronger her pressure on my face was. I could hardly breathe, but the lack of oxygen, the warmth of her legs and the white noise in my ears due to her pressing with her thighs on them put me in a state of blissful erotic trance.

So it came as a surprise when she stopped buckling, even though, judging by the sound of the lighter, only to have another cigarette. My nose was pressed hard just above her swollen clit, and it was very difficult, if not impossible for me to breathe, but I didn't pay too much attention to that: my queen was on her throne, I was it! So, taking advantage of her stillness, I pushed my tongue inside her and began worshiping her as she deserved. And enjoyed, because after the cloud of smoke that signaled the lighting of her cigarette dissipated over her head, still invisible to me behind her boobs, she remained in that position.

As much as I wanted to stay like this forever, air, or rather the lack thereof, was starting to become a problem. I fought to move a little my head sideways, in order to open a new channel for it to flow through, but all I obtained was to further titillate her with my nose. In this increasingly frightening situation, my hands refused to leave my sex, bribed by an arousal that seemed to grow with my need of oxygen.

After a few seconds, however, my survival instinct kicked in, and I started to draw attention to me with my hand, patting on Barbie at first, and then, since she just ignored me, fighting to get free of her hold, while I screamed in her pussy.

"I love these vibrations you are making, Jules!" she just moaned, still ignoring my vain efforts to breathe again.

Why didn't she move? Was I going to die smothered by Barbie Baby's pussy? A part of me thought that, if I had to choose a way to go, that would be it, hands down!

But that wasn't her intention, because all of a sudden she got up slightly, allowing me to breathe free again. The sound I made while doing so scared me a little, but it didn't last long anyway, because soon he was sitting on my face again.

Now that I was prepared to what was happening, I tried to force myself to calm down by concentrating on the task of pleasing her, in order to last longer. One of my hands went back to work on my pussy, but I used the other arm to sort of hug her and caress her back, so as to reassure her that I wouldn't fight her again. Indeed, when oxygen became a problem again, I just focused on getting her and myself closer to climax, entrusting myself to my queen's mercy.

Again she allowed me a few precious seconds of air and then, when she sat back down, driven crazy by her impending orgasm, she began to fuck my face harshly, buckling back and forth fast, screaming in pleasure. I accidentally snorted her juices at a certain point and coughed, gasping for air, but it didn't matter, because I was making Barbie cum really hard.

Suddenly she pulled up, and the warmth of her thighs left me. I felt a bit like a newborn, shocked to be catapulted in a cold world away from her vagina, to the point that I let out a groan.

Barbie smacked her lips and said, caressing my cheeks: "You want more?"

"I wanna be my queen's throne!" I whispered pleadingly. Also, I wanted to cum while being it, but I didn't dare be so bold.

She understood, however, because with a benevolent smile she slowly got up and turned around, parking once again her ass on my face. Without hesitation, I began licking her asshole, while admiring the panorama of her marvelous back, partly hidden by a cascade of her platinum blonde curls and decorated with a big tribal tramp stamp just above my eyes and a big playboy bunny on her shoulder.

Barbie slowly lowered herself and began teasing my clit by blowing softly on it, flicking her tongue on it and giving it pecks with her lips. I moaned in a way that I hoped would convey how I was begging her to do me as well, to no avail. So I put my hands on her huge orbs and began a teasing of my own on her nipples. That did the trick: as she slid backwards and rubbed her pussy on my face, she buried hers in mine. This 69 was different from those I had had with Lotus, in that Barbie buckled back and forth and used my whole face and her body to bring herself once again to climax, while I screamed in her sex during mine.

"Wow…" I whispered with my eyes closed and my chest heaving, as she lay beside me and began to play with my curls. "Can I have a cigarette?"

"Sure!" she replied, rolling towards the nightstand.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw her holding a cigarette and a lighter in one hand and a small mirror in the other, with two neatly arranged lines of blow on it.

"How about we play some more?" she asked excitedly.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn't sorely tempted by her offer, considering how good the first dose had made me feel, but still a part of me was worried it would spoil the night: I didn't want to remember how I felt as an effect of cocaine, I wanted it to be only about my goddess. So, in order not to say no to the birthday girl, I refused it by whispering "Oh, I surely don't need that to go on all night, when I have you!" as I gently pushed the mirror away.

Barbie really appreciated my answer, because she put the mirror back on her nightstand as I lit up my cigarette and went to fetch a strap-on and a big dildo from a drawer.

"Do you know how to use this?" she asked.

"Not really… But I can learn!"

Technically that wasn't a complete lie: this strap-on was more complicated than Lotus', in that it had to be fastened with some actual straps and the dildo wasn't double-ended. However the real reason behind my answer was that I had correctly predicted how happy it would make her to guide me.

"Don't worry, I'll teach all about strap-ons!" she indeed answered caressing my hair. A part of me felt guilty about this, though. Lotus had been my teacher and the way she had done it was unforgettable, and now it seemed I was polluting that memory… Well, I just wouldn't tell her about this part when I would recount my exploits the day after.

After the fitting, the following hour could be accurately described as me fucking Barbie in any possible position under her precise instructions, to which I always responded with a passionate "Yes, my queen!".

Only when the sun was about to rise did we decide to lie down. As a stripper, I was used to these hours, but Barbie fell asleep almost immediately, lying on her back, with my head on her shoulder, while I spent some time inhaling her scent with my hand on her belly, and let the sensation of it peacefully going up and down lull me to sleep.

To this day I'm not sure whether it was a dream, a re-elaboration of a confused memory or what really happened, but I swear that the next morning I woke up seeing the sun rise between her huge boobs, shining on the tanned valley of her chest from behind an open window. Of course the sun had risen a long time before, my vision was just a trick due to my perspective and the size of her tits, if the whole thing was even real at all. Barbie was still deep in her sleep, unfazed by the light. A quick look at the clock in my phone told me what my whole body was screaming: it was early, way too early!

However, with a titanic effort, I got up: I had work to do and every intention of dedicating my day to the sole task of making the birthday girl happy. So, lighting up a cigarette and massaging my forehead, I went to the bathroom. The mirror wasn't kind to me: I looked dreadful but at least I didn't feel that bad, apart from a headache. Well, Barbie deserved better: first I snatched an aspirin, then I had a quick shower, brushed my teeth with a finger to get rid of the morning breath I was sure I had, tried to make my hair not look like I had dried them with a jet engine, and did my makeup shamelessly stealing from her stuff. Then, after a quick check that she hadn't woken up, I went downstairs, into the kitchen.

With a sigh of relief, I found her fridge well stocked. My fangirl superpowers had indeed reminded me of a post in her Instagram account about her favorite breakfast, pancakes with chocolate syrup and whipped cream, and that had given me an idea. Following a tutorial on Youtube, I prepared a bunch of them, eating the worst-looking ones as breakfast. Then, back upstairs, I lay down beside Barbie, put them on my boobs, my pussy and my belly and decorated my body with some spray can whipped cream and the syrup, using my phone camera to see how it looked from above. When the result was satisfyingly sexy and delicious (I even managed to draw hearts with the syrup!), I let myself rest, fantasizing about my day with my goddess.

"Jules?" Barbie mumbled after coughing a little, waking me up from my light sleep shortly after.

"Good, morning my queen," I whispered sultrily, putting one of her cigarettes in her mouth and lighting it up as she rolled on her side and propped herself on her elbow. "May I interest you in a breakfast with pancakes and a side of pussy?"

A quick glance at myself told me that the whipped cream had melted a little, but Barbie's powerful AC had saved most of my composition.

"Mmmmh," she moaned delighted, taking a big drag from her cigarette and the adding, her words carried by a massive clod of smoke, "I swear you are the best birthday present I've had in years!"

My insides melted at that comment, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when she took one of the pancakes and gave a tentative lick to my left nipple, now covered in melted cream.

"I'm going to eat you up!" she murmured, passing a cream-covered finger on my mouth and then kissing the cream away.

"You know, I haven't had much breakfast myself, so I was wondering if you had something to eat at hand. I don't much like pancakes…" I replied, as she started eating.

"I might just have the thing!" she assured chuckling. "How come you look so pretty anyway? I must be a mess!"

She kind of was: hair disheveled, a fake eyelash missing, after she had rubbed her eyes in a very cute way, her face plastered with makeup and her voice was a little hoarse. And yet she managed to be impossibly sexy.

"A hot mess!"

"You are just saying that to make me happy!" she scolded me jokingly.

"Does it look like?"

She squinted suspiciously for a few seconds while she ate the last pancake, but I stared back at her meaningfully.

"No…" she whispered, lowering herself on my belly and licking the syrup around my navel. From there she went up between my boobs and then spiraled around my other nipple that must have been so very dirty, considering how thoroughly she was stroking it with her tongue.

"Has the breakfast been of your liking, my queen?"

"Perhaps I'm still hungry!" she whispered, taking my nipple in her mouth, sucking it and then giving it a little bite, making me gasp.

"Yeah?" I said shivering when she licked my neck. In the meantime my hand had finally found the whipped cream spray can.

"There's more, my queen."

These words were accompanied by the sound of fluffy white cream snaking its way on my shaved mound. Moaning voluptuously, Barbie slid down and passed her fingers on the cream, spreading on my inner thighs, now invitingly open.

"Yummy…" she whispered, licking lasciviously her finger.

As if there was a physical force attracting my vulva to her mouth, my hips thrust forward on their own accord, to no avail, because my queen was having fun teasing me. She licked away the cream from my mound, then went lower and caressed my labia with her tongue, only skirting my vagina, swirled around my anus and then went back up following my thighs, to clean them too.

"So much cream…" she teased, using the tips of her fingers too to caress my labia.

Now I hated that goddamn whipped cream!

"You are the kind of person who first licks the cream when they eat Oreos, aren't you?" I groaned desperately.

"I actually am!" Barbie chuckled, going back to her breakfast.

After she had painstakingly slowly licked me clean, she added with a pout: "But look, no more cream!"

"Yes!" I blurted exultant, when finally she kissed my wet pussy.

This wasn't the first time she had eaten me, of course, but seeing her greedy eyes between my legs and the passion with which she had dived in, made it all much better.

"Do you like how I taste?" I asked pleadingly.

She nodded, smiling with her eyes, her mouth too busy with my sex.

"And then… After you've had your breakfast, can I have mine?" I moaned.

She nodded again. My heart was pounding faster and faster in my chest, not only because of my arousal. The previous night it might have been the cocaine that had pushed me into it, but now I wanted to prove to myself that I wanted to do it for myself, for the satisfaction of making Barbie happy. So, with trembling voice, I added: "And can I have your golden juice too?"

She opened her eyes wide in elated wonder.

"Of course you can!" she assured me, her lips brushing against mine as she spoke.

"Thank you my queen!"

There, I had done it. With respect with the previous night, I found the idea slightly more exciting that day. Perhaps piss was a little like sperm: the taste was not good, but in the heat of sex one could learn how to enjoy it. So, as my orgasm approached, I kept fantasizing about my impending breakfast, trying it to picture her pee as my ambrosia, the drink of the gods, a word that had somehow resurfaced in my mind during the night, not by chance.

My scream announced the whole neighborhood just how good Barbie was at cunnilingus and it was soon muffled by her juicy lips on mine.

"Best. Present. Ever." she murmured in the brief moments in which our mouths were apart, which only added to my present state of bliss.

"Come!"

A de-ja vu: my hand in hers, the door of her bathroom creaking open, her shower stall, me kneeling for my queen, the sudden warmth of her jet on my belly, rising and rising… As her pee splashed on my face, I chuckled for the weird sensation and opened my mouth eagerly, letting her fill it up and piss overflow. I had no sooner dared to gulp a mouthful than the stream ended. The taste was as bad as I recalled it, but the whole experience somehow felt richer in detail. Perhaps I had been too emotional the night before to properly register it.

"Mmmh, more, please!" I moaned, pretending to love the taste, but once again thoroughly and proudly relishing the joy I had aroused in her.

"I'm sorry, I'm all out!" Barbie apologized, pouting in a cute way.

My relief was hidden by my immediate dive in her sex. What happened next followed closely what had happened the previous night, but I had no worries about being repetitive: Barbie was clearly enjoying the encore.

We were drying each other with towels after the shower, when my eyes fell on her navel and a question popped in my mind, a curiosity that I had had for a while: "Can I ask why you have a Playboy tattoo? I mean, your belly piercing is shaped like the bunny too…"

She smiled caressing my chin.

"When I was about your age, I found a bunch of old numbers hidden by my mom's boyfriend in our attic. So, curious, I browsed them and couldn't help but notice how hot the girls in the pictures were. The blond ones were my favorite and I kept thinking: 'I wanna be hot like them!'"

"This is, like, literally me with you!" I blurted.

"Yeah, did you masturbate to my pictures?" she asked casually, caressing my sex.

"To your porn," I admitted, for her delight.

"I used the pictures, imagining the scenes. It took me a while, but one day I realized that I not only wanted to be them: I wanted to fuck them! I was the guy in the fantasy, not the girl! Playboy is how I found out I like girls. That's why it's so important to me."

She lit up a cigarette and offered one to me.

Feeling bold and privileged for that intimate confession, I asked: "And can I ask you about your stage name?"

We were now naked, in her bedroom again. She pirouetted and said: "You don't know the story?"

"That you want to look like a barbie? I don't know… I call bullshit!"

It seemed that I couldn't go wrong that day, as her grin proved.

"And you are right: that's for the fans. My name is Barbara… My mom used to say that I was her barbie when I was little, even though my friends usually call me Barb. And the stage name happened sort of by chance. I was doing an audition in a strip club, super anxious, and a guy, that I had mistaken for a bartender, asked my name. He seemed to be flirting with me and he was cute… Oh and I was still convinced that I was bi, so I was like: 'I'm Barbie, baby'."

"And he was no bartender…"

"No, he was the stage manager and he thought that my stage name was to be 'Barbie Baby'. Afterwards it kind of stuck."

I laughed: that was a much better story!

"But tell me, how did you find out about your bisexuality?" she asked curiously.

"To paraphrase Katy Perry, I kissed a fellow stripper at work and I really liked it! And you know, then I kissed her again, and again…"

"Oh, so you are dating?" she inquired enjoying the gossip.

"No, we are just having fun, just like we are doing now," I assured her. Not feeling much like labeling whatever I was doing with Lotus, I changed subject: "So, what does the birthday girl want to do now?"

"I say spa!"

And so it was. It turned out that Mikey had left a change of clothes for me at Barbie's, which was good, considering that none of Barbie's would fit me: her chest measure was way bigger than mine! So, we went out and spent the rest of the afternoon getting pampered by masseurs and beauticians. Barbie seemed determined to teach how to take properly care of my body for my job.

"I understand that now all of this seems excessive, because you are so young, but time is a bitch and you need to fight it before it's too late!" she was explaining as we were getting a massage. "Its effects are very little, but they add up. Take stress, for example. It makes you get all sorts of wrinkles on your face and causes a bunch of bad habits, like eating when you shouldn't."