Carrie Needs a Blowjob

Surveys by Dr. Kinsey and other psychologists have reported that one woman in ten lists fellatio as her favorite sexual act. Three percent achieve orgasm that way. Whether it be the snuggly intimacy of make out session with a man's most masculine component or the wanton anonymity of a quickly unzipped licking frenzy with a creamy consummation, when the horny bug bites, these women simplyneed to suck a cock. Happy are the lucky men who know them.

Lithe and lovely, sexy, smart Caroline Jamison punched down on the accelerator of her Jaguar convertible and shot onto the interstate heading east. The wind whipped her short, strawberry blonde tresses in merry disarray and caused her mini skirt to dance happily across her golden thighs. She tingled all over.

Thirty-six is a marvelous age to be a divorcee, she thought as she raced along the highway. She was extremely excited about her noontime rendezvous, a first of a kind in its way. She was meeting someone for a blowjob but that was hardly unique. That he was only half her age was.

Hard young cock! she thought lustily, her taut nipples poking ardently against her sleeveless silken blouse. Carrie steered her car left-handedly while she raked the fingernails of her right lightly along her bare inner thigh. Pushing her short skirt even higher, she teased her swollen nether lips, hidden all morning behind pastel blue, lacy nylon thong panties. Hidden, but hardly unnoticed as they pursed and quivered every time her brain took up the notion of her planned midday meal.

Suzanne Wetherington had first suggested eighteen-year-old Matt when Carrie had complained of ennui with the "men in her life." Suzanne had been fucking Matt for several months herself and he was easily the most sexually exciting man on her rather full social calendar.

"How's the cock sucking going?" Suzanne had asked over drinks causing both women to crack up with laughter. Years earlier, the two had been teaching colleagues and became close friends when Suzanne testified on Carrie's behalf when Carrie divorced. It was then Suzanne learned of Carrie's penchant for administering oral relief.

"Some are better than others," Carrie answered with a funk in her tone.

I've got two words for you," Carrie's friend replied. "Young cock."

Sweet young cum!" Carrie thought and visibly shivered as she remembered Suzanne's description of the young stud to whose door she now sped. "He'll give your mouth a really nice ride," is what the school official told Carrie.

Carrie had her husband to thank for her love of sucking cock but it took a divorce to make her realize it. His boorish insistence on receiving frequent oral sex, often with little or nothing for her in return didn't augur well for the creation of a budding fellatrix. For most of the eight years they were married, giving her husband a blowjob was something she felt more obliged than excited to do. It wasn't until the last year that he did something that changed her attitude completely.

Carrie met Dana Jamison as a student teacher. Demure by nurture, she arrived at her college senior year student teaching assignment as a near virgin. Dana was department head, good looking, highly successful baseball coach, divorced, and twelve years her senior. Respected more than liked, he was also enjoying a fling with another member of the department (the self-same Suzanne Wetherington Carrie now considered a friend). Dana was the ultimate guy and Carrie became infatuated with him almost immediately. They married fourteen months later.

After seven years of marriage, Carrie's life took and unexpected and irreversible turn. A colleague from school had joined Dana for a night of alcohol-fueled playoffs viewing. Carrie's husband frequently used their home as his personal sports bar. He also had the annoying and embarrassing habit of telling his guest what a fabulous fellatrix his wife was.

This night was different from the others, however. Their drunken caller refused to take Dana's declaration at face value.

"Bullshit Dana, she doesn't look like she even knows how to suck dick."

"Like hell she don't!" Dana thundered, like he was defending his wife's honor rather than abasing it. "Carrie, come over here. I want you to show this jackass I know what I'm talking about."

Something in Carrie, besides considerable wine, made her want to support her husband. Moving between Dana's thighs, she sank to her knees. She brought her hands to his thighs and massaged him briefly before lowering his zipper.

"Oh shit!" exclaimed their visitor, "Is she really going to do it, Dana?"

"Damn right she'll do it!"

Carrie did it all right, and found herself excited by the appreciative moans and comments of twice as many men as normal. Although all the other man did was watch, she knew she was completely controlling both men with her mouth. It was an exhilarating sensation.

Dana's demands that she perform in front of his friends became increasingly frequent. Carrie feigned reluctance in front of the men and in private, told her husband she disliked doing it because she didn't want to be considered a slut. Her confession seemed only to encourage her husband.

Finally, one evening Dana invited a new staff member over to the house. He was fresh out of college, a few years younger than Carrie, and as hot as they get. The female teachers were abuzz for weeks. When Dana told her he had invited Shawn over to watch Friday night's game, Carrie protested vigorously if fraudulently.

"You're not going to make me do that thing are you?" Carrie asked with pleading eyes.

"What thing?" Dana asked like he didn't know exactly what his wife was talking about.

"You know."

"No, I don't," Dana answered disingenuously.

"That thing where you make me do what you like," Carrie continued, secretly enjoying the fact that she was discussing performing a blowjob in front of a cute stranger.

"Spell it the fuck out, Carrie, I don't have time for your fucking games!" Dana cautioned, showing a growing impatience over his wife's reluctance to admit what she did in plain English.

"Where I suck you while he watches!" Carrie spat with more venom than she felt. "There, I said it. Happy now? Please, Dana, don't make me do that in front of Shawn." Carrie pled her case in reverse psychology.

"What's so special about him? It never seemed to bother you that much before."

Carried smiled inwardly. If her husband hadn't been thinking about demanding a blowjob before, he sure was now. And Carrie felt her pussy begin to salivate at the thought of it. In the few days between when she learned of the invitation and Shawn's arrival, Carrie felt a frequent need to masturbate from thoughts of having him watch as she sucked her husband off. The process of associating giving a blowjob with her own climax had commenced.

When Shawn showed up, Carrie's sexual squirming began in earnest. Her heart fluttered, her face flushed, her stomach turned somersaults, her nipples stiffened and her anus clenched, her vagina pulsed and flooded. She felt an overwhelming desire to dash into the bathroom and finger herself.

Like the other men before him, Shawn had accepted the coach's invitation to an evening of booze and ballgames as much to get closer to his hot wife as for the opportunity to bond with one of the most respected members of the faculty.

As expected, soon after the liquor began taking effect, Dana steered the conversation toward sex in general, and his wife's oral proclivities in particular. Carrie protested but only feebly.

"Honey, you're embarrassing Shawn," she offered, for the first time couching her objection in terms of the other man's feelings rather than her own.

"Nonsense!" blustered Dana, "no guy dislikes hearing about a woman who gives great head. Am I right, Shawn?"

The young hunk stammered briefly trying to think of what to say. He heard the rumors of the shows the coach and his wife had put on for others and he wondered: a) if they were true; and, b) if he'd get to watch Carrie in action himself.

"Well," Shawn finally managed to utter, then, choosing his words carefully so as not to spoil the moment, "I guess it's exciting to hear about, anyway. Especially if the woman is so pretty."

"See, Honey, I told you so. Now why don't you get over here and show him what you can do? Trust me Shawn, it's a lot better than hearing about it."

"Damn you, Dana," Carrie said without conviction. Then smiling directly at their guest, continued, "You don't have to watch if you don't want to Shawn, but he's just going to pester me until I comply, so it's best if I do it now."

On past occasions, Carrie had worn jeans for her exhibitions but had purposefully selected a short skirt for that evening. It showed off her beautiful legs to perfection. As she settled between her husband's legs, she deliberately set her knees widely apart. She wanted Shawn to see what an easy, unobstructed path to her pussy someone might have had he chosen to slide his hand up her inner thigh.

The object of her teasing did nothing of the sort, but what he did was even more exciting. Shawn did not sit quietly while she blew her husband as the others had, contenting themselves with brief glimpses of her soft lips as they danced around Dana's straining maypole.

Shawn moved in for a close up look. Staring intently at Carrie's slurping jaws, he breathed his erotic approval. "Shit, that is so fucking hot."

Carrie caught his eye and smiled around her husband's dick. Shawn stared back and they maintained eye contact while Carrie rode the cock in her mouth. She became increasingly excited and began doing things to tease her prey even further.

Reaching for her breast, she drew the young man's attention there. Her teats poked at the soft cotton of her tank top. She pinched her nipple making it more prominent.

"Damn, Coach, "Shawn said excitedly, using the appellation by which Dana was known to students and faculty alike, "you got the hottest woman I ever saw."

Dana would have enjoyed a sense of pride in his wife had his cognitive functioning not been completely compromised by his rapidly approaching release. The young man's praise was not lost on Carrie, however, and she reveled in her ability to excite.

"Fuck, I can't take this anymore!" Shawn exclaimed and to Carrie's utter surprise and delight, pulled out his cock and began jerking off.

Carrie briefly stopped sucking while she stared at Shawn's pretty, fist-encircled prick, resuming only when she felt her husband's insistent hand on the back of her head. Carrie couldn't get enough of that incredible sight. What a wonderful dick that guy had! Longer, fatter, and much more appealing than Dana's, she struggled to refrain from making it the object of her oral attention.

As her husband built toward his orgasm, Carrie's eyes flitted from Shawn's cock to his beautiful blue peepers. She saw him staring at her mouth plunging up and down. Deliberately, she went deep, encasing Dana's entire six inches. Holding her lips tight against her husband's pubic hairs, she stared longingly at Shawn. When she saw him staring back, she dropped her gaze to his swollen phallus, then back up.

As she felt Dana approach his explosion and watched Shawn furiously beating his meat, Carrie felt an unexpected orgasm building within herself. Sliding a free hand up her thigh, she let Shawn see her expose her panties, then push them down as her fingers attacked her pussy joining in a mad, three-way dash to the cum line.

Dana exploded first, followed quickly by Carrie who bucked out a climax while her husband pumped the remnants of his semen into her mouth. Shawn had slowed his strokes to watch the intensely erotic act unfolding before him. He picked his intensity back up in short order much to Carrie's delight.

She was still pulsing out the remains of her climax and, as Dana lolled, semi-conscious, she waited excitedly for Shawn's shooting match to begin. As encouragement, she opened her mouth to expose pearls of sperm on her tongue before closing and offering her voyeur an exaggerated swallow.

It was too much, and Shawn began raining down a cloudburst of semen blobs sent arcing from his cock slit. Carrie felt them splash into her hair and onto her arms and face. She wanted desperately to capture that spurting cream sickle in her mouth and milk it dry but dared not with her husband so close.

In the weeks afterward, Carrie could think little but Shawn's cock. If she ran into him at school, she would have to duck into the ladies room immediately to relieve herself. While she often fantasized about sucking Shawn, and the other men she'd performed for, off when she masturbated, her commitment to her vows prevented her from actually doing anything.

Carrie and Dana came to an abrupt parting of the ways when she was thirty-one. During a faculty Christmas party, the now assistant principal (none other than the same Suzanne Wetherington who had been having an affair with Dana when Carrie arrived at the school) brought the festivities to a screeching halt when she (followed by a sheepish Dana) emerged from a darkened corner screaming, "GOD DAMN IT, COACH, KEEP YOUR FUCKING HANDS TO YOURSELF!!" and stormed out.

Carrie spent the holidays across the state at her parent's house. She refused to return until Dana had vacated their home; she instituted divorce proceedings. Dana transferred to another school within the district but was still too close for Carrie. She began studying real estate and left teaching that summer.

When her separation became public, calls from the men who watched her give her husband blowjobs began almost immediately. All called save Shawn. Although she politely rejected each, Carrie masturbated afterwards imagining doing what she'd just refused.

After she left teaching, Carrie began dating again as her lust for giving head became patently apparent to her. As anyone who's spent time in another country will tell you, the things they miss most are family, friends, and food. Without Dana feeding her, Carrie's appetite for semen soared. The longer she did without that taste and texture, the more she craved it. She began picking up strangers for blowjobs.

Carrie simply did not believe the yummy, naked-from-the-waist-up hunk that answered the door was real. He resembled a young Robert Redford perhaps, or a Brad Pitt. Six-feet two inches, one hundred ninety pounds of blond haired, blue-eyed deliciousness. His hair was matted to his forehead by the sweat of the workout that still had one dumbbell clutched in his left hand. He had none of the typical teenaged skinniness.

The pretty divorcee didn't know where to look first and her eyes flitted from his azure irises, straight nose, full lips, and dimpled chin to his expansive shoulders, bulging biceps, fantastic forearms, and armored pectorals. Then, like composition in fine art, his torso began to narrow, drawing her eyes downward, heightening her passion.

His abdominals were like none she'd seen before, not in person anyway. They were taught, trim, sculpted, and polished by sweat. His body didn't appear to contain a milligram of fat. Her eyes, however, couldn't focus anywhere but the waistband of the kid's sweats.

They looked to be several sizes too large. The drawstring hung untied outside. They hung so low on his hips Carrie couldn't understand what held them up. They sagged so far south she saw wisps of damp, dark-blond pubic fur peeping out.

It was all Carrie could do just to remain upright. The mouth that had salivated so plentifully as she sped to this erotic destination it was as wet as an undersea grotto was suddenly arid. She felt herself lapping dryly at her lips.

"Should we go inside or do you want me to do you right here?" Carrie finally managed to croak out. She spoke not to Matt but directly to his cock. "You do know who I am, don't you?" she added quickly.

"Ms. Jamison?" Matt confirmed Jeopardy style. He never did introduce himself.

Like Carrie, Matt was having difficulty coming to grips with the sight of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen standing on his doorstep expecting sex. She looked like a movie star. Hot body like Jessica Simpson inThe Dukes of Hazzard but her face was prettier, more like Lindsay Lohan or Mandy Moore.

"Um, yeah, you better come in," Matt said, swinging open the storm door. "You're early," he continued. "Ms. Wetherington said you wouldn't be here until about two or so. I'm not really ready; I need a shower."

On no you fucking don't! Carrie screamed to herself, imagining pressing her lips and body against his salty dampness, but what she said was, "I'd rather you didn't."

Dragging a fingernail up his arm to his shoulder, Carrie stepped behind Matt. She continued scraping her finger along the musculature that decorated the stud's upper back. The top of his butt crack was just visible and the mounds of his gluts pushed gloriously aft. Carrie felt a strange desire to rip down his pants, pry those magnificent muscles apart and kiss her way across his derriere.

Slowly, she toured his torso like some erotic explorer looking for the perfect place to land. Back in front of him again, she let her hand trail lower. "Did Suzanne tell you what I wanted?"

Carrie felt his six-pack flutter as she both tickled and aroused him. She no longer looked at Matt but at the expanding presence pushing his workout togs toward her. As the growing shaft pushed away from his body, the waistband went with it exposing his cock base.

"Yes," Matt groaned.

Matt looked down at the top of Carrie's head as her hungry eyes were glued to his slowly exposing groin. One inch, two inches, then three inches were freed from behind his waistband as his cock head battered the crotch of his sweats. Still, he was only semi-erect as more prick jammed out from his lower belly and curved downward.

"Say it," Carrie whispered, wanting to hear the words from his lips.

"She said you wanted to suck my cock," the biggest hunk in high school said, pushing his groin forward, desiring her almost as much as she desired him.

Carrie could wait no longer. Her pussy lips had begun to quiver. She felt them open softly then gradually retract like some slow motion guppy in a fishbowl. Her release had been building for more than an hour and was now mounting an irresistible demand for attention. It was time to hurry Matt along with her.

Standing on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck and pressed her hungry lips against his shoulder. She felt his perspiration soak into her clothing as she opened her mouth and licked his salty skin. She shivered as she felt his cock poke her crotch.

An urgency drove her as she trailed her tongue down the youth's toned chest like a deer at a salt lick. Carrie hugged Matt's legs as she sank to her knees on the carpeted floor dragging Matt's wardrobe with her. His beautiful, boyish, boner, bent downward until, released from the cotton container it had been holding up, it sprang skyward slapping noisily against his abdomen. His cock head was level with his navel.

It was the most handsome dick in Carrie's recent memory and she set about ravishing it. It was a rare cock indeed that she could hold in both fists and still feast upon. She was in a hurry as she slobbered over the purple helmet and up and down the pale shaft. Her orgasm thundered toward her like some glittering Comet Kohoutek. All she needed was Matt's cum.

"Tell me to suck your cock," Carrie ordered her teenaged prodigy, temporarily halting the activity she sought to encourage. "Call me your cocksucker."

Like her love of providing puckered penile pleasure, the desirability of the sexy sobriquetcocksucker had evolved for Carrie. She had first heard the term on elementary school playgrounds. Boys would apply it derisively to one another. Girls would whisper, "How disgusting!"