Taylor Loves Oral

Lapping up the remains of his cum I stood up and smirked at him, like, "Oh yeah, women don't love this?"

His eyes were glassy. "You're still ....fired," he managed to spit out.

"Yep, don't care," I giggled. I sneaked out his back door which led to the hallway where our lockers were. I dressed and left with a smile. I loved thinking about how embarrassing it all was to have to do that...for THAT guy. Like I've said, though, it drives me. I realized that sucking off beautiful athlete types was a blast, but that there was much more out there I needed to experience, like with this one. I did worry, though, that my main supply of cock would be dried up, though I still kept Jason's number, I couldn't imagine going through life without sucking that cock again. I needn't have worried. College gave me everything I needed, even some that I didn't know I wanted yet.

Chapter 2

*

Weeks went by without any action. Jason had started his season and apparently was on "lock down." He was one of those athletes that believed that cumming during training would sap his energy. I think it's probably the opposite. I was craving the next thing, though. My main focus became my college psychology professor. He was in his 40's, I'd guess, based on the sexy salt and pepper stubble on his chin. He was tall, curly haired. He reminded me of a cross between a younger Ted Danson and Kevin Kline. I was surprising myself at how hot his age and experience was making me. He wore that professorial sweater vest, which was adorably sexy on him. He had a wedding ring. I spent most class days lost in ogling him and daydreaming. I was doing terrible in the class, even though I was usually a good student and actually loved psychology. He instructed me to come to his office after class one day. I actually got a twinge, "down there," when he said it. It was more like a command. It stirred something in me.

"Taylor. You seem to be somewhere else in my class instead of focusing on the material." He had no idea. "What can I do to make it more interesting for you?" I had many ideas for that, though none I think he shared at the moment.

"I just find myself...I dunno....just daydreaming," I said, not sure of how this should go.

"I can see that. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Plenty," I laughed. I can pretty much sleep anywhere, anytime, and in any position.

His eyes to seem to devour me, they were beautiful, a deep, dark, piercing brown. There was knowledge behind them. I felt exposed, like he could see my very thoughts.

"I...I just don't know how to say this," I said with great hesitation.

"Try me. I'm a counselor, outside of here. Believe me, I think I'll understand."

"It's kind of embarrassing."

"I'm sure whatever you tell me will be a normal, human thing," he said reassuringly.

"It's....embarrassing because it's about sex..."

"You don't think I've heard those kinds of things? I interned in a prison, for god sakes, believe me, I've heard it all."

"Well, it's perverted, though not for me...." I started, haltingly.

"So, it's something that you love, something that you enjoy, that other people would find...dirty?"

"Exactly," I said. He was astute, he obviously knew a lot, and a lot more about what I was telling him than I knew.

"Did you pay attention on my lectures about fetishes?" He asked. "You seemed to do better on tests with that material."

"Yes, I think it's a fetish," I admitted. His eyes were calculated, probing, it was as if he knew already. I don't know why it was so hard for me to admit, with him so interested, so focused on getting it out of me.

He then shocked me. "Would it surprise you to know that I've had other students with...let's say, similar issues?"

"I'd be surprised," I admitted.

"Ok, let me lay it out then, we seem to be dancing all around it. I've had students who want to please me. My demeanor, my presence as their teacher, their mentor, in a way. It excites some women. In therapy I'd call it Transference, when a patient falls for her therapist because of their close connection in treatment. I think it happens when I teach, as well."

"And these students....they try to please you?" I asked, with a hope I hadn't recognized.

He knew he was walking a fine line, a dangerous one for admitting it, but he risked it, for the reward. "They did more than try to please," he grinned knowingly.

"Really?" I asked with surprise. I knew that fraternization of professors and students was a serious thing.

"Yes, some of the women have been VERY appreciative and have showed their gratification in a number of ways."

"You are married?" I asked, pointing at his ring.

"Yes. My wife is also a professor here. She uh....has had many of the same opportunities as I have. Seems that guys can be just as appreciative," he grinned.

He'd laid it bare. He'd given up a part of his safety. I had to reply in kind, especially after those weeks of frustration watching him, wanting him, and not knowing how to approach him.

"Ok, since you've been honest with me here it is...I can't focus in your class because I'm attracted to you, obviously. But you already knew that. What you don't know is what I fantasize about. You see, my fetish is almost entirely oral."

I scanned his face to gauge his reaction. He just had a smug, lovable smile on his face.

"So, all those days in class, when I'm teaching, you're thinking of...."

"Sucking your cock," I blurted out, interrupting him. "I think about sucking your cock, sir." I blushed.

"See? Normal stuff," he shrugged.

"Maybe that part. But, there's more." I proceeded to lay out my entire fantasy, including the last couple months and my experiences at the bar. I told him how much it thrilled me to be used that way, how much I loved the humiliation of wanting it, having to do it certain ways, and how submissive it made me feel. He just nodded at certain points. At no time did his expression change to shock, or disgust.

When I was done we both leaned back in our chairs and exhaled. A few minutes passed while we just checked each other out. The air was thick, like an electrical storm.

Finally, he smiled. "So back to my original questioning. So what is it I can do to keep your focus on my class?"

"Just this," I said as I dropped to my knees. He didn't say a word, he just turned off the lights of his office, put the "not in" card in the window and locked the door. He went back and sat in front of me.

"I believe I understand the fetish, my dear. So, this is how it's going to go," he said with command. First, you are going to take everything off and hand it to me, like a good girl."

I blushed and felt my pussy suddenly gush at his control. I stripped obediently and handed him each item of clothing. When I took my panties off, he took them, slid them under his nose, taking in their scent, before putting them in his pocket.

"These are mine now," he grinned coolly. "And from now on, I want you to never wear them in my class. I want you to sit in front, and wear skirts, short ones, preferably."

"Yes, sir." I said, my head down subserviently.

"Now, show me what you mean about your oral fetish. Show me what you've learned."

For the next fifteen minutes, totally nude, I made love to his cock with my mouth. I wanted it to last forever. This was it, it tapped those things deep in my brain. The embarrassment, the fact he was old enough to be my dad, that he knew my fantasies at the deepest level. I was driven even deeper into my lustful fog due to his total command, the absolute mesmerizing control he had over me. That, and the fact that, next to Jason's, he had the nicest cock I've ever sucked. He kept up a verbal commentary throughout.

"Yes, that's it Taylor. Show me who you are, show me what a cock sucking slut you want to be. Believe me, I can give you everything you've ever wanted. I know what you want, what you need and I've got all the contacts and opportunities to make it happen."

I gave him my best. I wanted him to crave it so much he'd give it to me again and again. He was already ahead of me.

"Yes, that's it baby, suck that cock. Suck that cock like you are going to do whenever, and wherever I want it. You'll do that, won't you?"

"Yesss," I hissed, only temporarily taking my mouth off his head.

"I'm going to MAKE you do it," he grunted, his excitement level rising to a fever pitch.

"Yes you are," I panted. "Make me suck your cock, your friends cocks....whoever you want me to."

"Yes, yes...that's it, that's what I'm going to do. You are going to be my personal little cock sucking slut!" He moaned before shooting his cum into my willing mouth. I devoured it like I was breaking a fast, which I kind of was. He watched me leisurely lick the cum off his cock, his balls, then off my hands and my lips.

"Yummy," I grinned with a smile.

"Now get up and get the fuck out of here," he barked, slapping my ass hard before smiling. "This is all something you are going to get used to."

"Yes, sir. I'm yours to command," I admitted quickly, with surprising acceptance.

For one last indignity he made me stand in front of him still totally nude, my chin dripping some of his cum while he took a few pictures with his phone for, "possible advertising." He also gave me an assignment to bring to class the next time. He wanted me to list what it was I wanted, exactly, and the types of scenarios I'd be willing to do. I protested that a lot of the excitement would be me not knowing what I was going to do, that he should be the one to decide.

He just smiled and said, "I know, dear. I have plenty of ideas already. I just want to know the truest, deepest, darkest depths of your psyche so we can both really get off on this. And when I ask what your limits are, don't say, "I don't have any." We ALL have them. I couldn't, or wouldn't, for example, make you suck off a homeless guy for disease and other reasons. I couldn't or wouldn't make you suck off every guy in a crowded bar. So there are limits, even if you don't know what they all are now. Just think about it, think about what you want, what you don't and we'll see what we can both do about it."

I spent the next day contemplating it all. I composed my thoughts the best I could. Just writing it all down made my pussy nearly boil over. In class, I sat in the front, as instructed. I had on an over-the-knee skirt, no panties. He gave me a sly quick smile before concentrating on the lecture. He had an amazing ability to focus on the material at hand, unlike me who was sitting in a cauldron of my own lust. Midway through, during an open discussion, he gave me a note while people's attention was elsewhere. It said, "open your legs more."

I think my face reddened immediately. I did as he said, though. He spent a lot of time facing me, while proceeding with his teaching. I do like exhibition, it's another hot button issue for me. I knew I was going to enjoy this element, along with my main fetish. The combination was going to be combustible. He was standing in front of me, my legs were open. I could feel the cool air directly on my pussy. I could feel how wet I was. I could see him sneaking a glance or two. It was intoxicating. It was making me so horny. I had my piece of paper ready, the list of my thoughts. At the end of class I handed it to him. He told me he'd look it over. I had left my phone number. He said he'd, "be in touch."

Chapter 3

*

Here's what I'd written, and what he was going to have to take in and absorb.

"John, I made a list of my thoughts which I hope will help you guide me, lead me to where we both want to go.

1- You know my fetish for sucking cock. I've sucked a lot, but it has been dozens. I want you to make that triple digits. I want to look back in the not too distant future and know I've sucked over 100 different cocks. It doesn't have to be all at once, or as you put it, with me sucking entire groups of men at a bar or something. I actually prefer the solo blowjob, or, one at a time. I will do a blow bang, if you command it, however. I know it's something I'm going to have to do, from time to time. Keep me busy.

2- I can't stress this enough, the type of man doesn't really matter. Yes, I agree there are still limits. The homeless guy thing, for example. But, as a very large part of the fantasy, I need to be made to suck guys of all types. It should be all ages, all sizes, looks unimportant. There's delicious embarrassment to being on my knees blowing, say, a fat guy, or an older man. It just makes me feel like such a dirty slut doing it for men who normally wouldn't even approach a young woman like me.

3- Your control is important to me. The fact that it's you, making me do it gives me the thrill to fulfill my fantasy. I need you to make me do it, the situations are totally up to you. I know that's kind of a cop out, but seriously, that's what drives me. Test me, try me, force me to show you the depths of my fantasy.

4- Related to the above, make it embarrassing, make it humiliating. That sort of thing drives me mad. I gave you an example, the one where I sucked off Randy, my boss at the bar, or how Jason sent his friend out back for me to suck, just because of how embarrassing it was for me. I know that it has to get out that I'm just a cock sucking slut. It needs to happen, it's inevitable. I need to face that and deal with it.

5- you know how guys who get it are going to want it again...and again? Make it happen, don't let me get off without the possibility of it being a regular thing. If they ask for it again, and in the heat of lust I say yes, make me do it.

6- Feel free to exhibit me, show me off in any way you decide. I love it when men get to see me, kind of like it's advertising for what they might get. And, don't let me be a tease. Make me please if it excites them. My body is yours....my mind is yours. Use them."

I got his call soon after. "My my Taylor, you've been busy."

"Not the right kind of busy, though," I giggled.

"No, maybe not yet. I like your ideas, I have similar ones. It's just good to know we're on the same page. If you hadn't already figured out, you are a submissive. You need to be led, controlled, told what to do. It frees your inner slut. I am a natural dominant. I love putting little sluts like you in situations where their natural slut comes out. I think this will work well for both of us."

I got juicy just hearing him say those words. "I'm so wet right now," I said with frustration.

"Have you ever sucked off a delivery guy, like the pizza guy or anything?"

"No," I said with an embarrassed peep, realizing what might happen.

"Well, I think you should expect that. In fact, I'll make it a rule. If you get ANY kind of delivery, Amazon, pizza, that sort of thing, you need to end up offering a blowjob as a tip. I actually think the pizza guy thing is a little cliche and dated. I'd love to make it more interesting. But that's the new rule, ANY delivery, you must at least offer, got it?"

"Yes, sir," I said, lost in my own arousal.

"Do me a favor. What's your apartment look like. Do you have windows? Take a picture of the layout for me."

I did as he said and sent him the pictures. I knew his mind was working on an idea. He asked if I was going to be home and I said that I was in for the rest of the day. I wanted to be available, I knew that's what he was asking.

He just said, "Ok, I'm going to keep you updated. But, you need to be available at a moment's notice. I have an idea, but you need to respond immediately when I call or text."

"Yes, sir!" I said excitedly.

I kept the phone in my hand for the next few hours, except for when I showered, where it was still close enough to grab, "just in case." I got the dreaded yet anticipated call in the late afternoon.

"Slut. That's your name now. You don't deserve any other name. I have a task for you."

I loved the change in his tone. It made me absolutely creamy.

"There will be a man showing up at your apartment in the next hour. You will treat him accordingly. Do you have Skype or the ability to record it for me?"

I was very tech savvy. "Yes, sir. I want you to be able to see your slut whenever you want."

"Good, so here's the deal. I have a mechanic, I've known him for awhile. I'd consider him a friend. He's divorced. I think he's a good candidate for us. I owe him a favor, for all the work he's put in for me. I told him all about you. I showed him the nudes I took of you and he sounds very interested in "helping" us. So, I told him where you live and that you'll be ready for him."

"Oh god, sir. Does he know our...limits?"

"Such as they are, yes."

"You are sure your wife is ok with all this, does she even know?"

"She is totally on board. She'll be watching right along with me. She loves the idea of me having such another slut plaything."

"Don't worry, she knows your fantasies. But we're wasting time. Here's what I need you to do, before Joe gets there. I want you to turn on your phone, your camera, whatever, focus it on your living room window area. Then, you are to strip naked. You won't be needing clothes for this. Then, kneel on the carpet, put your hands behind your head and wait."

I took a deep breath to try and absorb it all. My head was filled, both with fear and excitement.

"Can you do all that for me?"

"Yes, sir," I sighed. It was all happening. What am I supposed to say when he shows up and I'm...like that?"

"He already knows what's what. Unlock the door. When he knocks you tell him to come in. When he sees you, you offer your mouth to him. I told him to treat you accordingly, to talk to you as nothing more than a slut who is going to get him off."

"Oh...god...." I panted.

"Let's see how you handle your first task," he said, before abruptly hanging up.

I had no idea how long it was going to be before he showed up, but I knew what John wanted. I got out my digital camera, I'm into photography, it's much better for filming...things like this. I pointed it at the window and turned it on. I decided to strip in front of the camera, sensing it would thrill John and Sophie, his wife, watching me strip for them. I deposited all the clothes in a pile, then knelt in front of the window and waited. I have neighbors and there is generally some foot traffic back and forth in front of my window. However, kneeling like I was, I was pretty much below anyone's view. Still, it could prove embarrassing, as you'll see. I waited, my fingers intertwined behind my head, my chest heaving. I could feel the blood rush to my neck, my face, while I awaited this indignity.

I heard footsteps. Then I saw him. He was a thick, heavy guy with red hair and a beard. If there was a stereotypical look for a lumberjack this would be it. His belly hung out way over his belt, like he was going to audition to be Santa Claus. My front door is to the side of the picture window. I saw him at the door. He looked over. Since he was tall, he could see in, and down to where I was kneeling. His face formed a lewd grin. He took a moment to enjoy the view. Bashfully, I averted his gaze. Then, he tapped on the door, as if he even needed to, at this point. I choked out a, "come in," the best I could. He entered. He loomed large over me, my head was still down. I could feel him taking me all in.

"So, this is all real, eh?" He smirked. "I didn't think John would prank me or anything, but I still had to wonder, what the fuck, you know?"

I didn't know how to respond. I only nodded.

"Tell me what I'm here for, slut," he said, as if he suddenly remembered John's instructions.

"You are here to get your cock sucked, sir," I said hopefully. I added the "sir" for John. I thought he'd enjoy that.

"Damned straight, I am," he grunted. "Don't know why a girl like you, needs setups like this to get what she wants, especially with a body like that but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. John said you were good at this but just needed more practice, so here you go," he laughed cruelly as he took out his cock for me.