Supply & Demand

I turned in his arms and leaned back, pressing my round butt up against him and slightly moved it up and down, finding his hard-on. It's such a sexy thing to feel a man get hard ­­ like the ongoing process of him getting turned on in real-­time, growing underneath or behind you. But guys mess it up, they do things like push themselves up against you on the dance floor and expect you to be impressed. Yeah, every other guy on the dance floor has a hard on too. I'm not going to rub your's. But, I love sitting in a guy's lap and feel him unintentionally start to get one. Or leaning on a guy I like at a crowded party and feeling his response to me.

Now I could feel Gerry's response. It was, literally, hard evidence of what I was doing to him. I wondered if I could get him off just rubbing him a bit with my ass like this. Probably, but I didn't come this far to have a guy cream his pants.

So, with my back turned, his hands around my waist, still greedily grabbing at my chest and clutching my hips, pulling me back towards his hard-on, I laid one hand of mine on his big hairy paw and pushed it down. I pushed it across my smooth belly and to my panty waistband. As soon as I lifted the elastic slightly, Gerry took the signal and his hand shot down. I was prepared for it ­­ he had his hands all over me, and we were here to do this ­­ but it still caught me off guard when I felt his stubby fingers push between my legs. I kind of thought he'd go a little slower, teasing his way down. But he just went straight for my vagina.

"Oh my god, you're shaved," Gerry groaned. I felt him lean into me from behind, his scratchy beard crushed onto my shoulder and his hard-on pushing through his polyester slacks into my ass cheeks. "You're so smooth down there."

Gerry sounded awed. College boys watch so much porn they expect a shaved pussy. Half of them don't even know girls actually have public hair. That's why I got so much shit from my friends for having a two-­day growth of it. I've never been a fan of having hair down there, and keep myself as smooth as possible, but nobody was ever this excited to feel it. The best you usually get is just disappointed if it wasn't smooth enough.

Gerry's move between my legs was crude, and his breath hot on my shoulder, his old­-man polyester pants and hard-on awkwardly rubbed up against my ass ­­ but I was so turned on. I figured Gerry probably watched a lot of porn, but had he ever felt a girl who kept herself smooth like me? Back when he was my age, girls didn't shave, I don't think. Did it make me seem younger to him? I was thinking of the last pussy he probably touched. Maybe he had an ex-­wife, some fat old bitch who probably has some monstrous bush sprouting between her legs.

Fuck you, I thought to her, I'm what he wants. I'm what all men want. Never mind I'll be an old lady one day, right now I'm at the height of my sexuality and your ex­husband ­­ and every other man you know ­­ wants me.

Guys might get competitive about how many girls they've had sex with, but girls (at least me) are every bit as competitive. We want to be the one you want. That's what this is all about, right? Finding the guys who really, really want me more than anyone else. I've never been one for rivalry, but the feeling that I was more wanted than someone else was almost narcotic the way it made me feel good.

It was definitely an aphrodisiac.

It's good that it turned me on so much, because Gerry was not gentle. His stubby fingers pushed inside me ­­ no gentle tracing of my lips, or teasing entry. Just one fat finger and then another. I wasn't really wet. I spread my thighs and sort of dipped myself involuntarily trying to open to him ­­ but he had one arm tightly around my waist now, holding me up. I grimaced hard, but kept my face turned away and he didn't notice.

I felt his mouth pressed against my shoulder, awkwardly kissing me and his hard-on gently humped me, as he thrust against my ass, gently, almost involuntarily I thought. That's worth it.

Gerry pushed a finger deep, it jabbed my g­-spot and I gasped, then he pushed the second one up. It stretched me, and it hurt. I squealed involuntarily.

"You like that, huh, honey?" Gerry panted, thrusting his crotch onto my ass fairly hard. His hand that was not in my vagina clutched my hip ­­ tightly, I could see my pale white Irish skin turn bright red under his fingers ­­ and he jerked me back towards him.

It wasn't painful so much as unbearably uncomfortable. I felt like a popsicle stick. He jabbed a couple more times as I tried to think of something to say. He was clutching me so close to him.

"You're pretty dry though," he said, suddenly sounding disappointed. I gently pushed him back, and he pulled his fingers out. I tried to seductively spin, wiping the look of discomfort off my face. "I hope you don't have a problem getting wet. I didn't bring any lube."

Well, he's honest, I thought. I smiled seductively, determined to smooth this over. "I definitely get wet," I cooed. "Anyway, I've found saliva always works as the best lube!"

I gently tugged him back towards the couch. He not so subtly smelled his fingers.

I had yet another flash of total discongruity ­­ here I was half­-naked, fingered, dragging my new much, much older lover across my college-­owned apartment living room floor towards the colleg-e­owned couch, where my pretty petite Korean-­American roommate likes to curl up and read her organic chem notes in the morning, wearing nothing but a towel while she waits for her hair to dry (how long do you think Gerry would last if he heard about that?). Honestly, as shockingly weird and out of place (for a good girl like me) to do something like this, the extremity of the bizarreness seemed to make it okay.

Like it wasn't really real.

But it definitely was.

I think, when I told him that saliva makes the best lube, I wanted him to maybe go down on me. The one thing I will say about college boys is that they all will do that at the drop of a hat ­­ boys are visual, and I think they just like having a pussy right there in their face. Can't get closer than that.

Gerry apparently missed what I meant.

"Yeah, I love getting my knob polished," he said, very earnestly, following me. I sort of slid onto the couch, leaning back and seductively spreading my legs. You know, for him to drop to his knees and let me guide his oral efforts to a nice orgasm for me. Warm me up.

He didn't drop to his knees. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down and kicked them off. Then his tighty­-whiteys. I had never actually seen a guy who wore tighty-­whiteys.

I had felt him hard and rubbing on me but couldn't really get a sense of how big he was. Gerry's penis was, frankly, short, but very thick, though only semi­-hard.

I've never met a guy who shaved down there, but I also never met a guy who had pubic hair like Gerry. Like the rest of him, apparently, he had a lot of hair. And, I can only describe it as "gnarly". A big bush of grey­-black curls, unkempt and wild. But I didn't recoil. I thought about how smooth I am between my legs. How young and sexy I am. How clean I am. He was the opposite. I'm no virgin, but looking at his ugly, growing stubby cock and his mess of pubic hair sprouting up under his old-­man paunch, all I could think was: "I'm his virgin!"

I peeled off my tank-top -­ it was almost a shame. It's very sexy, but I loved how his eyes widened and he laughed as I twirled it above my head, my naked torso on full, youthful display for him and I flung it.

I didn't see the point in prolonging this, or playing games, so I leaned in, my face close to his crotch and looked up at him.

"I really want to suck you off," I said in my best throaty sex voice I could muster. His eyes crinkled at the edge and he grinned.

"Go ahead," he groaned, adjusting himself to push his crotch toward me. Caressing his leg, I couldn't help but notice that his balls were huge ­­ so I started there.

I like licking balls. That was actually one of the first things I learned at college ­­ my first weekend party, my first hookup. In high school, boys are happy about anything you do, and you don't need a lot of skill to give a good high school blowjob. Just basically have a mouth and a willingness to put it on them. College guys aren't that much different, but there are more and they've had more girls and they let you know what they like. I didn't know what to do the first time a guy told me to lick his balls, but now I do.

I stuck out my tongue, dainty and small and dragged the tip of it across the underside of Gerry's hairy balls. He quivered and shook and I saw goose bumps. I dragged it back and forth, and leaned in, pressing my face into him, my nose pressing hard into the underside and base of his cock ­­ I could feel it firm underneath his fleshy balls, and it was growing, pressed against my check as I flicked my tongue below. I moaned a bit and kissed him and then greedily sucked a ball into my mouth. His knees went weak.

This was easy, I thought. I worked a bit faster, moving around his balls, my mouth all over them, slobbering a bit, one hand on his leg and the other reached up to grasp and squeeze his cock. He was hard now and I tugged a little bit as I worked him down below.

"Put it in your mouth, suck me like you said you would," Gerry breathed.

Glad to, I thought. I worked up and kissed his dick. Making eye contact with him and grinning, I slowly dragged my tongue up the underside of his now hard cock.

And that's about as far as we got.

He came, really hard, really quickly. Two quick spurts that caught me totally by surprise ­­ I've never had anyone cum that fast. And then after the initial eruption, even more ­­ a spurting of white, watery slimey seed, over and over and over... for about three seconds.

I was lucky - I couldn't look up, because I had let him grab my head a moment before and he was holding it tightly up against him, my eyes slightly turned away from his dick. He had covered the whole side of my face, but below my eyes. His semen dribbled down my nose. Gerry had been caressing my hair a moment ago as I teased his cock with my tongue, and as he shot the first jet, his arms tensed and he gripped me hard so I couldn't move.

I wasn't upset, but I wouldn't have asked for that. It was surprising and a really abrupt shot of reality. As he continued to ooze seed onto my cheek, I had a quick mental image of my father. The shame filled me instantly and completely. I immediately started to tear up. I didn't cry, but when he finally let go of the back of my head, and I looked up I had to struggle really hard not to show anything. I bit my lip and sort of tried to look pleasantly surprised, instead of shocked. Gerry looked back at me with his small grey eyes magnified through his thick glasses, and I knew he saw the tears welling in mine.

"Oh that's so beautiful," he sighed. I couldn't tell if he's mocking me behind the beard. Was he talking about what I just did for him, the thick paste of white cum plastered on the side of my teenaged face, or my not so subtle attempt to refrain from bursting into tears out of shame.

Well, I thought, if he was looking to take advantage of me, a 30­-second blowjob was getting off pretty light. I might have just turned myself into a whore, but at least it was quick.

As I tried to regain my composure, he was breathing hard, and I was trying not to move ­­ he was staring at me so lovingly, with my face all fucked up and sticky like that. It's silly that I felt like crying ­­ I invited him here, I stripped down to almost nothing for him, I teased him, I got on my knees for him and licked his old man balls... what did I think was going to happen? Still, it was humiliating, at least right then, it felt that way.

Gerry's cum was starting to slide down my cheek, and one large warm gooey drop slid right across my mouth and stayed there, right between my two lips. I could feel my nostrils flaring as I breathed through my nose. I've had cum on my face before, I don't mind, but it was all sort of compounding ­­ I was feeling very used. But, the cum itself wasn't that bad ­­ it didn't smell any worse than any other cum, but that feeling of shame ­­ and I really didn't want it in my mouth. I can't swallow it, I thought, I don't know him.

I couldn't move though, with him holding me close, and I didn't want to make any sudden moves anyway, for fear more of his cum would slide into my mouth.

After a moment of gazing at me, Gerry let his hands drop to his side, flopped down on the couch, and threw his head back staring up at the ceiling. I quickly got up and turned for the box of tissue. With my head turned and my hair falling in front of my face, the tears rolled down my cheek silently and even as I wiped it away, I could taste Gerry's cum in my mouth ­­ traces of it off of my lips. I grabbed tissue after tissue, aware that Gerry was watching me again, feeling kind of awkward now about how many different tissues it took to clean up my face. He had cum a lot. And it was in my hair too. So much for trying to make it look nice.

Now, I thought, how to get him out of here?

There was an awkward moment of silence, and I perched on the edge of the coffee table. Ever since he had arrived, I kept having these revelations of how weird this was or that was, or how real everything suddenly was, and once again, it was all hitting me ­­ here I was, practically naked, totally humiliated, sticky and feeling used, clutching a bunch of cummy, makeup smeared tissues, trying not to stare too hard at this stranger, old enough to be my grandfather who five minutes ago I didn't know, but just came on my face ­­ and not a little bit, I'm talking totally creamed me.

Five minutes ago, I was so turned on my whole body ached, now I was at what, at that moment, felt like my lowest point. I felt like a whore, except he was going to leave and I wasn't even going to get any money. I was a whore who gave it away for free.

I really wanted him to go. I realized I was cold. Of course I was ­­ I was wearing a thong and nothing else! He just kept sitting there on the couch, admiring me, not saying anything, his limp dick and matted, sticky grey pubic hair right out there ­­ three feet away from me, a weird and unavoidable reminder of what I had just done with this stranger. At the very least I really wanted to put some clothes on, but I was too embarrassed to let him see my body as I walked away barely dressed like this. I felt silly sitting on the coffee table, hunched over, trying to cover myself up a bit with my arms as I continued to dab at my face and hair with the tissues ­­ why didn't I

just start in jeans a t­-shirt? I'd still be in them!

It felt like a long time, but was probably only a minute and then he seemed to catch his breath. "Wow, sweetie!" he said enthusiastically, "That was really special. Thank you!"

I didn't really believe him. I mean, I knew he was glad I had done that, but the sweetie business. I wasn't even a hole to fuck, I was a face to cum on. He continued to gush, and I tried to force a smile, but I think my eyes were pretty cold ­­ he kept on trying to praise me.

"Honey, you're a lot prettier when you are smiling," Gerry said.

I rolled my eyes and smiled thinly ­­ that was good enough for him.

I scanned the room and cursed myself for flinging my tanktop so far when I stripped it off for him. Maybe I could just back out of the room ­­ but that would look awkward and it was bad enough he had just used me as, excuse my language, a cum rag, I wasn't going to let him know it bothered me.

"Do you want me to get you something to clean up before you get dressed?" I asked finally, thinking it might be the best way to drop a hint that the show was over.

"Oh," Gerry said, clearly crestfallen. "I thought we were just getting started."

I smirked, suddenly feeling sort of bold.

"Me too, but you kind of rushed things along," I said, a little tauntingly.

OK, two ways to think of this, I thought in my head ­­ this sleazebag just used me, or I just humiliated this sleazebag who couldn't even hold on for an actual blowjob. And, I thought, rather smugly, he never even got hard ­­ he just jizzed! My boyfriend in 9th grade did that!

But, despite my dig, Gerry's face just crinkled into a smile.

"Oh, baby girl, that was just the opening act!" he chuckled, his belly jiggling. "Look!"

I looked down and his fat cock had suddenly come alive ­­ it wasn't hard, but it was well on its way and was way harder than a few moments ago when he had cum so quickly. I must have looked astonished.

"Viagra, baby," he chuckled. "I popped it right before I came in. I thought it would take awhile to warm you up and we'd just be getting to the fun stuff now. You did me a favor, honey ­­- now that I popped I can go for hours!"

He laughed again as I sat back, feeling rather unsure of what to do. He wanted more? I shifted quickly to the couch ­­ a few feet away from him. He leered at my chest. I think Gerry knew I was feeling kind of weirded out, and he really tried to lay on the charm, lavishing me with a string of clumsy compliments ­­ my skin is so creamy! My breasts are so perky!

Cheesy, definitely, but suddenly it's easy to fall back into my arousal at the idea of how bad he wants me ­­ every time he does something pathetic, it gets me going! He's like reverse sexy! Also, and probably especially, I couldn't help noticing that, almost like magic, he was hard as a rock. No kidding, his cock sprung up, straight, like a steel rod... a short, but wide steel rod. Holy shit! Better living through pharmaceuticals!

"You know," Gerry said, rather gently. "I don't think I've ever seen breasts that perky. You really do have remarkable tits."

If I'm ever self­-conscious about my ass, I never worry about my chest. Not to be obnoxious, but I have great tits. Like I said, I got them the summer I turned 14, and they've proudly been on display since. Not inappropriately, but they're so damn perky, how can I not show them off. B­-cups that stand up and jut out, all on their own. They're creamy and firm, and my nipples are fun ­­ puffy pink aeorolas about the size of a quarter, that pucker into little points when I'm happy.

Boys and men of all ages ­­ admire them. Can't keep their eyes off of them. And when I take my top off, I love to bask in their lustful gazes. I felt happy, my nipples were pointed and Gerry was lustfully gazing like crazy. I thought his jaw might drop off.

"Wow," he said, sounding surprised. "I thought your tank-top was supporting 'em or something. Now I can see they're really great."

Damn, this guy's not good, but he's pushing the right buttons! I leaned in and he reached out to feel them and squeeze them. I pushed them together for him.

Blushing and involuntarily letting a little giggle slip out at his enthusiasm, I bounced up and down on my knees and swung my chest back and forth to make them jiggle.

"Yeah, baby," Gerry said. "Shake them titties for me!"

I half expected him to pull out a stack of ones and make it rain for me. I sprung to my feet, and shook for him. I bounced. I playfully frolicked across the room, peering out the blinds at the empty street. I'd be lying if I said I never "accidentally" walked in front of the windows topless from time to time. You know, sometimes it's 10 p.m. and your light is on, and you just happen to leave your bra right by the window, and you just have to nonchalantly go get it... in front of roughly 300 dudes who are walking by on State Street below my window.

Oops.

You might have noticed that sometimes I have an exhibitionist streak. And it has its perks. My roommate Soon and I laugh about it ­­- a few well­-timed strolls, by one of us, to fetch a bra by the window ensures Campus Safety does regular drive­-bys. Both of us at once might get them up here knocking on the door, so you know, just a little tease keeps us well protected.