Molly's Facial

It had been too long since John had last seen Molly in any real, special way. It had also been too long since he'd cum. The last meeting between the high school loner and the sexy mail carrier who was fast becoming as obsessed with him as he was with her had been over a week ago, on Halloween night. For weeks the two had teased and tested each other. John had jerked off in front of Molly twice, once on her large, bare breasts. And most recently John had went down on a woman for the first time, eating Molly out until she came.

But it was a forbidden relationship for many reasons. Their age was a big factor, especially since John still lived with his parents and was a senior in high school, and Molly was married. John discovered this fact at their last meeting, and Molly had almost ended their potentially destructive relationship right then and there, before her husband could be clued in. But when John went down on her, all bets were off. She didn't want to need the shy, young, inexperienced stud, but she did. Desperately.

After his first taste of pussy, John had to leave so fast to avoid the two of them being caught that he never had the chance to receive his own oral pleasure. While it was frustrating, he trusted that Molly would overcome her apprehension about the two of them and come back to blow his mind, as well as something else.

This fantasy was confirmed when Molly gave John a memory card from a digital camera featuring hundreds of photos of her posing for him in various stages of undress or in the nude. He had high-quality images of her standing in nothing but high heels, coiling on a messy bed with her heavy tits and long nipples pointing to the ceiling, sucking on a dildo, fucking herself with her own fingers. He had been masturbating to the pics since getting them, but he had held off on cumming, wanting to give everything he'd built up to Molly, since she was the one who had triggered it all.

And now John was finally going to get his release.

He was extremely nervous as he sat in his vehicle in the parking lot of the cheap motel, just a few miles from his home. Through the photos she gave, Molly had given John a secret message: many of the photos included a single number or letter hidden in them and once he found them all and strung them together, the message said he was to meet her at this address, tonight, at five in the evening. He guessed her intent on hiding the message was to ensure that he was indeed looking at her photos so obsessively that he would notice minute details. And now he was here, and as he looked at his watch, a car pulled into the parking spot beside him. It was Molly.

They got out of their cars in silence, she as nervous as he was. They made brief eye contact, but both shied away. When Molly finally spoke, she said only "wait", which John did, as she went inside the little reception area and booked a room, for how long John wasn't sure. She came out holding the keys, then led him to their room.

The room was cool, for it was November, and the last tenant had left a window open. It was also dark, the entire little unit bathed in a dark blue hue from the setting sunlight pushing through the curtains. Everything in the room was a different shade of blue, which perhaps was why it seemed colder inside than it was outside. Neither of them bothered turning on any lights as the door closed behind them.

John made a mental note not to try and pretend this was some innocent event. He had the urge to surpass the obvious tension in the room by just appearing casual, maybe flopping onto the bed and turning on the TV, as if this were just any normal vacation, and the sex would come naturally. No, he told himself. He had to do his part to keep things progressing. A virgin without a single girlfriend in his past, John had been waiting too long for this, whatever it happened to become.

Molly sat down on the foot of the bed. The squeaks it made were not loud enough to distract either of them from the reality of what was going on. She swallowed hard and looked at him, standing in the entry way, when they finally made eye contact.

"Come here," she whispered, her voice softer and shakier than she wanted. She reached out to him, and he stepped toward her until he was standing before her at the bed.

John was average in everything from his looks to his body size, but there were two things about him that Molly found irresistible. The first was the size of his cock, which, though it would never reach porn star status, was one of the biggest ones she'd ever seen with her own eyes. The other thing was John's eyes; a dark shade of green on the outside, but within they held a deep, passionate longing, eagerness that Molly could feel warming her whenever he looked at her. His gaze was as sensual as a lover's touch, and the best part was that he was completely unaware of it.

He was looking at her with those eyes now.

The room was dead silent, except for the sound of Molly and John breathing. It was so quiet, the subtle noise made by the fabric of Molly's shirt as she lifted her arms toward John was just shy of deafening. She put her fingers on his hips, then drew them together to the button of his jeans...and undid it.

Her breath caught in her throat. She paused, took a deep breath, and exhaled long, but quietly. John's whole body was tingling with excitement. His dick was growing, shifting itself under his jeans.

Molly pulled down his zipper, then paused again. A long pause. After a while, John looked at her, trying to read her face, which was a mask of hesitation and confusion.

Molly felt him looking at her, and so almost looked up into those irresistible eyes, but she didn't. She knew if she did, then she would give herself to him fully, and that was not what she intended to do.

"I want you to give me a...facial," she said.

John didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure he could even make a sound to reply.

"Nothing else, though," she explained, too nervous or afraid to look him in the eye. "I just want to watch you jerk off, and then cum on my face."

She finally looked up at him.

"Is that okay?" she asked.

John couldn't pretend he wasn't a little disappointed, but this was still a major step for him. Despite his sexual education coming almost exclusively from porn, he knew that the women in the real world who wouldn't let you cum on their face far outnumbered the women that would ask for it. Even though he'd been expecting sex, or at least a blowjob, this was still going to be an awesome experience. His cock throbbed.

"Yes," he answered.

Molly detected his disappointment, albeit brief, but she also saw the excitement in his face grow when her request finally settled in. Eternally conflicted between her lust for this young man and the love for her husband, she had given this a lot of thought. She hoped that she could dispel her obsession with John by limiting herself in what she did with him. She knew that the more contact they had together, the harder it would be to cut this thing off. Sex, therefore, was out of the question. It had to be. And Molly knew even a blowjob would turn that switch inside her. So she hoped that keeping things close but visual would get her excited enough to go home and jump her husband, but allow her enough restraint to keep her hands off John.

Of course, to just tease John would be unfair, and while her need for him was primarily based on lust, she still cared, and didn't want to use him. He'd already cum on her breasts, so her face was the next obvious progression. If everything worked out, he'd get a treat most guys can only fantasize about, while she would get off, but not go out of control.

A harsh reality in the recesses of her mind told Molly this plan was a long shot for success, but she ignored it because it was the only thing she could think to do, and she absolutely had to do something.

Molly pulled John's pants down and stared ahead at his boxers, tented by a huge, fully erect cock. She knew she should have used the moment to stop and call this off, but she wanted it too much. She pulled the boxers down.

His dick was breathtaking, she thought, as it bobbed into view, pointing right between her eyes. It was a soft hue of flesh, pale but not exactly white, smooth and rigid except for where bulbous veins ran its extensive length. The head itself was large and rounder than any other cock head she'd ever seen, and it was already leaking pre-cum; a large drop had gathered at the tip and was slowly sinking, threatening to fall off with each passing second. Molly's mouth watered and her tummy growled. She felt extreme heat and wetness between her legs.

As the drop grew larger and drooped lower, Molly allowed her eyes to shift past it and check out his fantastic set of testicles, looking large and heavy as they hung in his smooth, closely-trimmed sack. In fact all of him was shaved there, which was nice, but surprising. Molly didn't care either way, which hopefully John had guessed after going down on her hairy muff last week. But obviously he'd done this for her, and she appreciated the gesture. If nothing else, this allowed her to better see his huge, veiny balls, which seemed even bigger than they had the first time she'd seen them, back when she let him cum on her chest. It was a little strange really; not only was John's dick proportionately too big for his slim body, his balls were proportionately too big for his dick.

Molly looked back to the drop of pre-cum, hanging ever lower, connected by just a thread and drooping fast. Instinct flashed through her, and she almost went for it, but didn't even have the mind capacity to know if she'd catch it with her hand or her tongue. But just before she lost her restraint and went for it, John put his hand there, catching it just in time and squeezing it back against himself as he gripped his cock.

The movement snapped Molly out of her trance, but her eyes never left his erection. She had to avoid his gaze, for to see him looking at her as he stroked himself would break down every wall she had fought to put up. And so she watched as John stroked his cock, the fat head already wet with pre-cum and the giant balls swinging.

Every muscle in John's body was tight; he was tense, the air around him felt like it was tightening around him, almost suffocating, but intensely pleasurable. He was flush, his nipples were hard, the hairs on the back of his neck and forearms were tingling, but he was not lost in the moment by any measure. Instead, he was very aware of this place he was in and what he was doing.

Having masturbated countless times before, John knew it would never be the same after this. It wasn't just his cock that felt great, it was everything, and the feeling only grew with each passing moment. He looked down at Molly, sitting quietly on the cheap blue bedspread, staring at his pounding cock as though it held the secret of life. She was so beautiful, and he needed so much of her that he couldn't stand it. There were so many things he wanted to do to and with her that he couldn't even fantasize about one. So he just thought about her, how she had come here to be with him, and he studied her face, that lustful, concentrated face. She blinked her eyes, swallowed, which somehow further confirmed to John that all of this was real.

He stoked himself harder, slower. His cock was buzzing with need. The sound of his flesh being stroked filled the room.

John exhaled, not even remembering when he'd started to hold his breath. He broke into a sweat. He felt Molly's breath on him, warm and excruciatingly erotic. She was so close, and then her lips parted, her head moved forward, slightly. He thought she was going to take him, but no. This wasn't happening on purpose; it was unconscious. She wanted him so badly that her mind couldn't even catch what her body was doing. He could feel her breath on him grow harder and faster, encircling and teasing him. The lips of her open mouth glistened. He could see her tongue tucked in her mouth.

And then he lost it. No, he wasn't cumming, but he wanted to, and he needed more than just his hand.

"Suck me," he gasped, not missing a stroke. "Please..."

Molly's hands were shaking. Every breath she took caught in her throat. John's request didn't catch her off guard because she was thinking it even as he said it, but she knew she could not oblige.

"Oh..." he groaned, pumping himself faster. "Suck...oh God, please. Molly...Suck me..."

Molly listened to him this time, considered it, and then the ramifications. She actually dipped her head toward him, let her jaw drop a little further, prepared her tongue to lash out, but she couldn't do it. She put her hands on his naked hips and felt his body quivering. It caused a shudder of her own to roll through her.

"Please Molly," he begged, panting and out of breath. "Oh please...Suck me. Put me in your mouth." His tone was tortured and desperate. "I'll do anything. I need to feel you."

The hot energy coursing through her body was suddenly concentrated in two areas in particular, between her legs and across her chest. Her nipples were so hard they felt like they were being pulled.

"I'll take off my shirt," she finally said, even as she unbuttoned her blouse. "But I can't..."

John knew what she couldn't say, and he guessed why she couldn't say it. She was on the edge of losing it and going for all of him, which meant he had a chance. The possibility thrilled him to no end. He felt the faintest traces of orgasm beginning to build and bubble in his loins, but the feeling was growing fast.

Molly's shirt was off, and then her bra, and quite suddenly those two big, heaving breasts--milky white with distinct tan lines, fat, two inch nipples and widely spread areola--spilled into view. Though they had lost some of the bounce of youth, the magnificent specimens had not yet succumbed to their true age. The slight sag that was there only gave them a better sense of weight of movement.

John instantly wanted to feel his cock between those breasts again. He wanted it so bad, he actually forgot that he'd already fucked and cum on this same chest once before. She still seemed brand new to him, and he was not taking his continued access to her for granted.

He felt a surge deep in his body, and he had to stop jerking himself at once to avoid cumming.

John's hands were on Molly's naked shoulders before he could even consciously tell them to go there. Molly was just as surprised and terrifyingly aware, but she did not pull away. His warm palms were smooth and strong, and his fingers dug into her enough to build more tension, but caused no discomfort.

"Please take me in your mouth," John panted in the same tone a dying man might plead for his life.

There wasn't much else for Molly to consider, as John's cock was right there, pointing rigidly at her parted lips, the thin layer of pre-cum on the mushroom head drying by her breath. Her mouth watered, as well as her pussy.

"John, no," she whispered.

The response was almost physically painful for John to hear. He needed this so bad. He was so close. So damn close. His hands slid up along Molly's shoulders, though he had no idea of what intention he had in moving them. They stopped at the back of her head, where the base of her skull rests on her neck. He held her like that, his fingers tight but not squeezing her, tangled in her hair, holding her firmly but not directing her any which way.

Molly gasped passionately when his hands unexpectedly grasped her there; her whole body rose and sunk with the sudden breath. Though she would not admit it to herself, the excitement came from anticipating what John was moving into position to do; to take her by force. Molly didn't get off on rape, but if John pulled her face to him and pushed his cock between her lips, she would welcome it. Though she didn't want to cheat, if he made her cross the line, then her taking over from that point and aggressively enjoying his dick would, in her mind, be somehow justified.

But John didn't take her. He just held her, breathing hard, his dick no longer being stroked, but throbbing all the same, and still glistening with fresh pre-cum.

Molly fantasized about what might have been for a few moments, but then reality dropped in and swept her away again. She was allowing herself to get too close. Her restraint was weakening. She pulled back, breaking his strong but uncommitted grip on her head and arched her back, again presenting her breasts.

"You can touch them," she said.

And then she looked up into his eyes.

It wasn't planned, but, lost in the moment, Molly had not been actively reminding herself not to make eye contact, and so it just happened. She looked down right away, but it was too late; the image of those sexy, wanton eyes was burned into memory, and a roller coaster of churning and rushing senses rumbled along the insides of her thighs and between her legs. John placed his fingers on the bare flesh of her freed chest, taking handfuls of her soft but strong body, and pleasure zapped from her nipples to her heart to her spine just before she struck orgasm.

It wasn't an all out climax--had it been one, Molly would have had that cock of John's deep between her legs so fast that she might have accidentally killed him getting it there. But the small quake she did experience was both satisfying and dangerous nonetheless. She even went so far as to dart forward to his crotch, opening her mouth to receive him, but catching herself at the last second and dipping past him, planting her lips flush against his skin at the side of the base of his cock, hoping the feel of him like this would substitute for taking him inside of her. She moaned into his body, reveling in the feel of his hot dick brushing the side of her cheek even as she told herself to stay away. She was shaking like a brittle leaf, panting, her lips against John's skin, unable to pry herself away.

John had never been so close to cumming for so long. He teetered on that edge, feeling Molly's mouth at his base and her blonde hair surrounding his cock, her silken strands gently caressing him, setting his nerves ablaze. He released her breasts and grabbed the back of her head again, holding her firmly to him, though she had yet to make even a weak effort to pull away.

"Why don't you suck me?" John asked through gritted teeth. "Please fucking suck me!"

Finally Molly backed away, just enough to free her lips so she could reply. Panting, she said, "Cum on face. Now. Do it. You know I can't suck you..."

John's hands were now on Molly's cheeks, holding her face gently, though his fingers were rigid. He looked down at her, even though she made a point to avoid matching his gaze.

"Yes, you can," he said. He knew what he was doing. He knew Molly wanted to suck him, but if he shot his load on her before she gave in, then she wouldn't have to do it. But if he held back, then maybe she would cave under the strain.

Then Molly dipped forward, opened her mouth, her lips encircled his cockhead, hovering...and then she had second thoughts and backed away. John was so sure she was going to finally take him that he started to cum.

"Oh fuck!" he shouted. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming. Oh God, Molly, please taste my cock!"

The hot load was still on its way up John's shaft when Molly finally gave in, signaling the breakdown of her restraint with an audible and very sexy feminine whimper. She grabbed the base of John's cock with her hand and jerked him off while at long last she opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue, and lapped at the underside of his dick just as the sperm blasted out. John roared, struggling to stay on his feet as Molly licked his cock as though it were an ice cream treat melting in the sun. His cum went everywhere, spitting across her tongue into her mouth, splashing against her lips, spraying her face so hard that at times it actually splattered off and then back onto her.