tagErotic CouplingsOral Values: Exploring Exploitation

Oral Values: Exploring Exploitation

byGlobal Carol©

(The Oral Values serial is comprised of independent chapters, yet I hope the reader will find they provide a satisfying tale alphabetically.)

The Moore's had a family dinner most nights and that Friday was no different. Regina recalled walking into the house with the tingle of man juice on her tongue and the sweet wetness between her legs. Looking back fondly at those first few days of her unique sexual odyssey she remembered Greg's mother and father sitting and discussing the week's events, the preparations for housework during the weekend and preliminary planning for the upcoming holidays. As she remembered she completely tuned out the conversation, focusing solely on the beautiful cock that had just provided her with half a dozen orgasms.

Right now though, in her hotel bedroom, she began to feel warm just remembering those strong cravings. She thought about her current visit to England and the preparations she'd made for this week's psychologists conference at which she was to be honored to present her most recent paper and to defend it against her biggest critic.

Drifting back to that evening, she remembered her postprandial efforts at studying for Monday's test on Roman fountains and all she could see was the wondrous cock shooting so many jets of delicious, orgasmic juice. Eventually, she remembered, she was able to put her mind off cocks and cum and began studying.

Later that evening, though, she found herself thinking again about a man's sperm juice. She remembered Greg's masturbatory session. Hadn't he sprayed a great deal of semen when he masturbated the previous night? All she needed to do to get another fix was to harness that energy, so to speak. Doing so without his knowledge was not going to be easy.

She dismissed the idea of asking him if her mouth could act as the reservoir for his nocturnal autoerotic act. Then he would know she had been spying on him. No, that wouldn't be good. She needed a better plan of action.

Of course, she had never noticed Greg jerking off before last night. Maybe, she thought, he usually did something different with his cum. He was a very fastidious young man. His room was always neat and clean. Perhaps, he normally sprayed his white nectar into a glass or teacup. And, in her somewhat crazed state she figured she could sneak into his room after he went to bed and sip it, right out of the cup. Get real, she thought to herself. He was so neat, he probably would take it downstairs to the sink, wash it out, dry it, and put it in the cupboard.

The picture this painted in her mind caused her to giggle to herself: Greg, dressed with only his shirt and socks, walking down the stairs with his hard pointer to lead the way! Would it bounce? How odd! Of course, she thought, he'd have to wait until he got soft first! Male hardware was bizarre! Beautiful, lovely, exciting, but bizarre.

No, getting the cum she wanted was going to be more work. Though Greg had the merchandise he wasn't putting it out for sale. Or maybe, she just didn't have the nerve to ask him. He'd probably tell everyone and then she'd be sent home in disgrace. That didn't cut it. She needed him, and his cum, but she also needed leverage.

After getting into bed, she lay there thinking about her desire and finally figured it out: a condom. She'd only seen them in health classes, but they ought to do the trick. If she could get him to masturbate with one of them on his cock (She was really enjoying using the more casual words, now that she was so much more mature – but still a virgin! – than the day before.), he'd probably do with it the same thing he did with the tissues: put it in a plastic bag and toss it. Then she could retrieve it when he wasn't there (like when he made his nightly trip to the bathroom), take out the condom, put the bag back in the trash and he'd never know. A workable plan, she thought, if (and it was a big "if") she could get him to put one on just for jerking off.

She fell asleep reveling in her newfound oral sexuality. She never knew that taste could be so strong a sexual stimulant. She had actually begun to worry less about her virginity and the keeping or the loss thereof, and instead she could only think of cocks shooting their semen — on and on and on. She just wanted to make sure she could drink from their masculine fountains. She lay there rubbing each large, firm breast with her hands, imagining that there was a cock right in front of her face, its redness growing, harder and harder, while the hand pumping it went faster and faster until it began to let go its load. Meanwhile, one hand had moved between her legs and was carefully, but firmly, rubbing her clitoris. She had never quite done this with this amount of excitement before, but she just knew that her orgasm was only moments away.

And in her fantasy, just as the imaginary cock was just seconds from spurting its delicious juices into her eagerly awaiting mouth, she was interrupted by the sound of Greg coming up the stairs. He must have gone out after dinner. Regina began to think about a way of drinking another load of cum tonight. Plan or no plan, she couldn't wait another day for the taste of it. She needed it now.

Though her mind had drifted to a cognitive state of planning, her body was still on course for a less mental event. Suddenly her own desires and her ministrations overcame her and she shuddered to an orgasm, her full breasts rolling and trembling on her chest, her pussy dripping with her juices and her mouth desperate for the wonderful taste of cum.

When she had calmed down, she threw on a robe over her nightgown, walked quietly to her door, somewhat lightheaded from her blood rushing to the parts of her body below her neck. She opened the door a crack to see what Greg was up to and was surprised to see Greg holding on to the banister, clearly drunk and having a hard time staying upright. She was sure he was much more lightheaded than she; she wondered how much he had been drinking.

When he finally was able to reach his room, he opened the door and literally fell into it. Regina's condom plan a distant memory by now, she paused momentarily thinking of what her next move would be. She also wondered if semen tasted differently when a guy was drunk, but dismissed that thought as foolish. She picked up a little water glass on her night table and quietly walked down the hall to see how he was doing. What she found surprised and delighted her.

By now Greg had managed to get his clothes off, but he had just discarded them in a chair – clearly not the button-down, normally sober, eldest Moore scion. From her place, peering in through the slightly open door, he had what looked like the pictures from their Mediterranean holiday, the ones with her topless, arrayed on the bed and was vigorously pulling his prick. Regina decided that this opportunity was too good to pass up: perhaps, it was time to make a deal. After all she had seen him come in very, very drunk. This was more than just frowned on in the Moore household; he would be grounded for a month. She decided the bargaining position was in her favor and decided to risk it.

But, when she thought about it again, she decided to use this threat as a backup. To her mind she'd suddenly become a woman – in the past 24 hours, of course – and it was time to exploit that body with those extraordinary breasts. With all the teasing, the stares, and the problems finding clothes it surely was time to use them for something other than a bookstand while reading in bed.

She untied her robe and undid enough buttons at the top of her nightgown that Greg would see a considerable amount of cleavage. Her already stiff nipples, obvious through the thin, silky material, would be the icing on the cake. She was convinced: they could work out a deal.

She began to enter his room, feigning surprise at what he was doing. "Greg, I...oh my!" she gasped staring at his cock, hoping her acting was not overly melodramatic.

Greg was not so drunk that he didn't notice her. He immediately stopped and made an attempt (a ridiculously unsuccessful one, at that) to cover himself. Regina, now closer to his cock, noticed he was not as long as Mark, but he was at least six inches and seemed quite wide, larger, she, thought, than what she remembered from the previous night. In any event, attempting to hide what he was doing clearly an impossibility and trying to recover some dignity, Greg paused.

Thinking about the situation, after a moment, he asked, "What are you going to do? Are you going to tell?"

His tone betrayed his concern even before all the words fell out of his mouth. He knew that if she told his parents what he'd been doing he'd be punished. "If my parents find out that I've been drinking and that I'm whanking myself I'll be grounded for the next year."

"What do you think I should do?" she asked somewhat coyly.

"Please don't tell my parents. I'll do anything you want," he begged her, his erection almost gone. She was amazed at how it could go from being so small to being so large, and back again.

Looking at the photos on the bed, recognizing herself and the rest of the family at the shore, and never before seeing photos of herself naked, even she was surprised at how enormous her tits were. It amazed her that she could separate her thoughts like this. Part of her was mentally salivating at the anticipation of drinking some more cum, and another part was fascinated by her own boobs. No wonder, she thought, I can't find bras or almost anything else that fits: they're huge! On the other hand, if men find them so exciting, can I use them to get more of their essence that I want?

She fought to get her mind back to the current situation and the arrangement she wanted to formulate with Greg. "Anything?" she mocked in a rather loud voice.

"Please keep your voice down or they'll wake up. What do you want not to tell my parents about all this?"

She looked down at his now soft penis and noticed that there was a long drip of clear liquid suspended several inches below the head. "Well, what do you have there, dripping down from your penis?"

"It's pre-cum, pre-seminal fluid to be exact. It starts leaking out before a guy comes," he managed to say with only one burp. She put her finger under the head and collected the long drip on her finger. Then she smelled it and rubbed her fingers together. She was surprised that there really wasn't much smell. Again, she reached down and let another small drip land on her finger. She brought the finger to her mouth and licked it. There was a nice, slightly salty taste she thought, not as good as cum, but certainly a delicious, tiny hors d'oeuvre.

Greg couldn't believe his eyes. Had she actually tasted his pre-cum. None of the few girlfriends he'd had would go anywhere near his cock except for an occasional hand job. Here was this beautiful American girl, possessing the largest breasts he'd ever seen, actually tasting his juices.

Feeling that she was clearly in control of the negotiations, she continued, "Were you looking at these photos you took of me? How much were you going to shoot? Could you fill this glass?"

"Not with one load! With t-t-two or three ... I probably could." His speech was getting very slurred. "Why? Do you want me to shoot in the glass?" He whispered, clearly losing the battle to keep the room from spinning.

"The way I see it you're not in a position to ask questions."

"Yes, w-w-well, alright. Just please keep you voice down. Now, what do you want? I can come in the glass, maybe four, maybe five times. As m-many as you want. Just don't tell my parents."

"As many times as I want, huh?" Feeling in complete control and knowing she was going to get at least a mouthful of cum soon, she said, "OK. Here's the deal. I won't tell your parents about your inebriated state, your creepy photos of me topless or your masturbating session, as long as you jerk yourself off and spill your cum wherever and whenever I say.

"But, if you ever refuse I'll march right in and tell them. Got it?"

As he nodded in confusion she sat down next to him, secretly sliding one of the snapshots in her robe's pocket for insurance. The alcohol had made him so drunk he lay back in the bed, right on top of most of the photographs.

Feeling drunk, defeated, yet excited he closed his eyes and began to caress himself.

"Now how are you going to get it in the glass if you're aimed at the ceiling? You'll shoot all over the place and none of it will get in the glass."

"Well, this is a little weird, you know. What do you want me to do?"

"Stand up here in front of me so that I can hold the glass in front of your pecker."

He managed to get to his feet, holding onto the headboard for security. For her part Regina was amazed at the quantity of pre-cum juice that just began to leak from his cockhead. She quenched an overwhelming desire to stick out her tongue and lick it. But she did think to put the glass under the leaking liquid so as not to miss much of it.

"Why are you still so small?" she asked.

"All of this negotiating has gotten me upset," he petulantly replied. "I need some stimulation."

"Well, that's not part of the deal, buster! You whank your white stuff into this glass right now."

"Shh. They'll hear you. You could open you nightgown so I could see your amazing tits. As you could see I was fantasizing about them when you came in, you know. That'll help me come and really turn me on. It'll make me come soon and I'll probably be able to come again in a few minutes."

"OK, yeah? That I want to see. Two in a row?"

"Hey," he remarked while increasing the intensity of his hand, "why do you want a glassful of jism, anyway? What is it for?"

"None of your business," she flatly stated.

"Well, are you gonna show me your boobs or not?"

Realizing that he might not be able to produce what she wanted in his drunken state without some encouragement she decided that showing him her boobs would be all right. After all she had just done the same thing with Mark that afternoon. It did make her feel sexy and even sort of powerful to have that kind of control over her two men. It made her tingle and she hoped he would come soon. Anyway, he had been jerking off looking at her topless pictures.

She pulled open her nightgown so that he would have a clear view of her behemoths, making sure her pussy was still covered. She didn't want him getting any ideas about sex! Watching his cock intently she sat back and began caressing her breasts. Even then she was surprised that they were so large there was no way one hand could grab one. If she wanted to fully caress one boob, both hands were needed – to the disappointment of the other. Yet, it did feel good, rubbing first one then the other, her nipples standing at attention as she watched them get even harder.

Greg continued to stare at them, rubbing very fast now, breathing short breaths. She, in fact, wondered if he might have been hurting himself, though from the sounds in his throat and the look on his face she was sure it was anything but painful.

While Greg could look at nothing but her extravagant boobs, she could focus only on the fluid dripping down from the underside of the head of his cock. Was there going to be more cum because of the pre-cum? Why had she not noticed Mark's pre-cum? If Greg's cock were indeed smaller than Mark's, would there be less cum?

While these thoughts were careening through her head she found herself licking her lips in anticipation of his cum. From his expression and now his grunting she knew he'd be coming soon. Should she drink his cum right there in front of him or take it back to her room to sip it delicately, not under his gaze? What if he really could come again quickly as Mark had done? Should she wait until the second load was in the glass and the drink the juice? Half would be warm and the other cooler. Would it taste different after it had cooled?

Too many questions and too analytical she decided. She'd simply wait for the second orgasm, have him jerk off twice and see if he really could fill the small glass, perhaps capable of holding five or six ounces. She doubted that an orgasm produced two ounces, more like two or three teaspoons she thought. Since Mark had filled her mouth with his second orgasm, did that mean her mouth could hold three teaspoons of cum?

These ponderings had the effect of time standing still. She looked up and saw Greg still leering at her tits. Then, his eyes seemed to slowly close and his head began to roll slightly backwards. As her mouth began to salivate with more intensity Regina knew it was time to act. She carefully positioned the glass so there was no way any cum would miss it.

And she was rewarded: No sooner had she checked the position for the semen's trajectory than Greg began to shoot very rapidly against the side of the glass. Whereas Mark had come with a brief pause between each shot, Greg was shooting quickly like a machine gun. Psht! Psht! Psht! Psht! Five, six, seven, eight, nine big globs of white, lovely liquid nectar shot against the side of the glass and slowly flowed down to the bottom. After his ninth shot a few small drops dribbled out of the head and fell into the collection amassed on the bottom.

"Squeeze out the last few drops, please. Just do as I ask. I want all of it."

He couldn't understand why she wanted it, but he did as he was told. As he squeezed his hand around the shrinking shaft, pulling downward, another fair-sized final glob of semen fell, plop, into the glass.

Regina couldn't help taking in the heady aroma of the sperm and had to use control to refrain from guzzling the juice right then and there. She decided that she wanted a longer gulp, though, more than just a taste.

In her naiveté she said "Go on, do it again."

"Give me a chance, I just came for you."

"What do you mean 'for me'? You were already half-crazed when I came in looking at my pictures or you would have at least closed the door," she responded. Then after a moment, "So, can you do it again, or not?"

"I need a minute or two."

She accepted this, sitting quietly, holding the little glass in front of her, watching the little semen pool change from separate globules of white juices to a puddle of similar looking stuff. The vision excited her, reminding her of the dampness between her legs. She almost stuck her nose into the glass to get the full aroma, but decided that might make him think even more oddly of her.

"Well, a few minutes are up. Are you going to do it again, or should I leave right now and in the morning inform your parents what you were up to?"

"What about your behavior?" he countered.

"My behavior, nothing! This is just the evidence I need to show them what kind of a pervert you are."

"All right, but I will need your help."

"That's not part of the deal."

"If you want me to come twice in ten minutes, I need your assistance, OK?" He suddenly got very creative with a brilliant idea in his drunken state. "Now pull down your nightgown and let me stick my cock in between your tits."

She thought for a second, surprised at his suggestion. After thinking for a moment she replied, "If it'll help, OK." That sounded like it would feel good for her too. But, her mind racing, would she still be a virgin? Technically, yes.

Getting down to kneel on the carpet (a position she became very comfortable with over the ensuing years) all she could think about was the waves of orgasm that she expected to wash over her when she at last tasted her bounty. She instinctively pushed the melon-sized boobs together to make a channel for Greg's handsome cock. He began to slide it up and down against her chest. The friction became a problem so she dribbled a reasonable amount of saliva onto his cock and between her boobs. That appeared to do the trick.

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byGlobal Carol© 1 comments/ 34633 views/ 0 favorites

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