Thursday, June 24, 2010

Cum Breath - A New Beginning?

It's strange to be going on a first date with a man whose cock I've already sucked.

To be going through all the song and dance about favorite music, favorite food, "do you know so-and-so" and all that other first date stuff, when I've already had his meat in my mouth and his cum in my stomach.

And to be wondering which of our encounters our "relationship" (if you can call one blowjob, one date, and a few conversations about books a relationship) is going to build on?

Did he ask me out because we seem to get on well? Or does he just want his cock sucked again?

Or both?

He picked me up on time (good start)... we ate at Hidalgos, which is always a blast, and thankfully he agreed with me that the movie pickings were slim, so we gave that a pass and went to a bar instead.

And we talked.

I know, you want me to jump to the hot stuff... how he foot-fucked me in the booth as we sat talking, and I sucked my hot juices off his toes... how we disappeared into the restrooms for another party in my mouth.... how his cum tastes like the sweetest liquor.... SORRY! Nothing happened. Well, nothing like that, anyway. In fact, it really did feel like a first date, and what happened in the stockroom might have been between two other people entirely.

Which is how I like it, and what I hoped would happen.

We're seeing each other again on Friday. I'll let you know what happens.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

What do you have planned for the summer?

One of the things I have to do this year is read the massive pile of books I’ve accumulated over the last twelve months, that I keep promising myself I’ll get through but which I never seem to find time for. A month on a beach, with an endless supply of margaritas, and a few cute men to keep ‘em coming – it’s not much to ask for, is it?

Anyway I began this year by rereading something that has been a firm favorite for the past few years, and with a title like this, can you blame me?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation, by Chrissie Bentley, is a riot of raunch, the TRUE story of its author’s first ever trip to England, and the boys (and girls!) she met there.

You’ll meet Melissa, Chrissie’s counterpart at the company they both work for, and her insatiable desire to have her pussy eaten.

Graham, the tour guide who fucks her on the edge of a two hundred foot drop.

Christopher, the mystery man in a restaurant bathroom.

Bill, one third of a throbbing threesome.

Andy, the postcard photographer with a very erotic sideline

Martin, the man who packs a little something extra… (see the excerpt below).

Charles Dickens.

And more blistering blowjobs than you could shake a stiff dick at.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation is non-stop sex, hot as a summer’s day should be, and beautifully written, as well. Read the excerpt below, and then pick up a copy of your own HERE.

I held him in one hand, gently massaging his shaft, while I wondered how to phrase my next question. In the end, the silence and stillness felt embarrassing. “Okay, I’m sorry, but… is it meant to do that?”

Martin glanced down with a little more panic in his eyes than he realized. “Do what?”

“Um, I’ve never seen…” I indicated the bridge of skin. “What is it?”

“My foreskin?” He sounded confused for a moment. And then, “Is it true about American guys, then? They’re all circumcised?”

“Well, I don’t know about all of them, but most, are I think.”

“Not over here, luv. We like to keep our men intact. After all, you never know when you’re going to wake up in a blackberry bush.”

Eh? I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that. (I figured it out later… don’t bother asking). “But does it stay like that?”

Again, I touched the curious flap, and then let out a little “oh” as it slowly retracted onto his shaft.

“Just gets a bit sticky, I guess,” he concluded, and I stroked some more, watching in fascination as a thick wave of skin coiled up with my fist, to tap the rim of his helmet.

I looked up at him, he was watching me curiously. “It’s alright, isn’t it? You don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’ve just never seen one before.” Then, to shatter the growing awareness of the fact I was treating him like a laboratory specimen, I leaned my head forward and let my mouth slip over his helmet. He sighed and an inexplicable sense of relief washed over me. Well, at least that’s the same.

His foreskin continued to fascinate me. His prick was thick, his helmet thicker. However, when I rolled the extra layer of skin up over it, it became thicker still, my lips strained to engulf it. The taste changed, too; sharp and salty when I pulled his skin back, markedly less so as I drew it forward. I loved the contrast, loved the sensation of the flesh folding back against my lips, and then rudely bumping them on its way forward…back and forth, back and forth.

He gasped. “Please, don’t wank me so fast.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t wank me so fast. There’s a lot of spunk down there.”

What? I have heard of packing phrasebooks when you travel abroad, but going to bed with someone never struck me as an occasion when you would need one. Still jerking him, I asked, “What’s wank?”

“It’s what you’re doing now.”

Oh, right. My hand stopped moving. “And spunk?”

I knew he didn’t mean courage. “That’s what’ll happen if you don’t stop the wanking.” He smiled. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t speak English.”

I pulled his skin back as far as I could and licked hard up his shaft, following the thick vein running its full length. “No, I speak in tongues.”

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Cum Breath - A Quick Update

After what happened in the stockroom the week before last, I think I'd expected Gary to be back every day, either for a repeat performance or simply to say hello. Instead, I didn't see him at all last week, and was already writing him off as a "typical" guy - either that, or he was too embarrassed/horrified/disgusted by what happened in there to ever come back to the library again.

But he finally showed up again yesterday, to ask whether I'd be interested in going out with him tomorrow (Wednesday) night?


We're going for a meal, and there's the vague promise of a movie as well - although given a choice between The Karate Kid or Toy Story 3, I'm hoping we'll think of something else to do before then.

Any suggestions, anyone?

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Another First Time

Need I say more?

We'd fooled in the back of his dad's Cadillac
On a few sticky-seated occasions
Now his folks were away and he asked me to stay
At the end of last summer vacation
We never got far in the back of the car
(Second base, if you know what I mean)
So I said, “yeah, alright,” and then stayed up all night
Browsing my bro's magazines

I wanted tonight to be more than alright
It's my first time! A night to remember!
But I really don't see why my virginity
Should be the only thing on our agenda
We kissed and made out in each room in the house
Till we wound up in his parents' bed
But when he tried to slide in me, I wriggled myself free
Said “I don't want your dick yet. Give me head.”

I wasn't surprised by the look in his eyes
I'd not intended to be that brazen either
But the words' very sound made my heart wildly pound
And my pussy burned up like a fever
“I was reading about it,” I explained, and I doubted
Whether he had more idea than I
But then, dutifully, and quite beautifully
He planted a kiss on my thigh

I was nervous and scared... would there be too much hair?
Should I have shaved off my thicket?
I felt my heart race, blood flooded my face
Then he kissed me, and I whispered “lick it!”
I've felt his fingers before, cos they've fingered me sore
But this time was gentle... I gasped
My cunt was so slick, and his tongue on my lips
Made me wish that this moment could last

His thumbs part me wide and his tongue slips inside
Gracefully tracing my folds
Then he teases my lips and his hands on my hips
Dig in as he goes for the gold
This feels so amazing, I'm just lying here blazing
As his mouth and tongue swirl in my hollow
His fingers are plunging, his coiled tongue is lunging
And I'm pumping out juice - God! He swallowed!

I'm feeling him drink my exquisite pink
My toes curl, my hips leave the bed
He's sucking my clit... no, he's chewing on it
And it feels like I'm fucking his head
I'm bucking and flying... I hear someone crying
Hold my breath - Christ! That screaming is me!
But I just couldn't care, as my fists twist his hair
And I grind my cunt hard, fast and wildly

Then I tense. God, I'm cumming! I can feel the mad drumming
“If you stop what you're doing, I'll kill you,”
I don't know if he heard, but in my mind I hear words
“When I'm finished down here, girl, I'll drill you!”
It feels so good it hurts! I'm cumming! I squirt!
Feel him pause with surprise, then recover
Then he's frenziedly licking me clean while still flicking
My clit with his thumb. What a lover!

I'm catching my breath. Oh God, I need a rest
My eyes closed, my gasps mixed with laughter
My bro's magazines may have conjured this scene
But they never explained what comes after
He covers my titties with hot, warm wet kisses
Smearing pussy juice over my chest
Then I watch while he stands, strokes his cock in one hand
Then slips it between my damp breasts

I giggle, I love it, my tits hang above it
I hold them firm so he won't slip
His hips gyrate fast, I don't think that he'll last
Long... and then his cock prods at my lips
There's a leap in my heart... hey! This wasn't part
Of anything I read last night
I'm a little bit scared... but hey! He was down there
And anyway, he tastes alright

I part my lips slightly, to show I'm inviting
Him in but I don't think he saw it
His movements are graceless, he's fucking me faceless
One stroke... two, three... then he floors it
He's deep me in my throat and I try not to choke
Try to swallow as much as I'm able
I can hear myself gulping it down as he's pulping
My tonsils with his still swollen cable

My panic subsides as his cock starts to slide
Back out of my mouth, to lay twitching
More out than in, on the ridge of my chin
And I raise my head up, my mouth dripping
I cradle his balls as his cock softly falls
Hot and sticky to lay on my wrist
Just moments before, it was eight inches or more
But now it's the size of my fist

I kiss him; his mouth tastes of cunt oil and jizzum
And I cannot believe my good luck
If this is what it's like on our very first night
I can't wait for the first time we fuck!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Congratulations, Chrissie!

Wonderful news from Chrissie Bentley - her short story "Pictures of Lily" will be appearing in the anthology Best Women's Erotica 2011, edited by Violet Blue and published by Cleis Press.

BWE is one of the longest running, and most popular of all erotic anthologies, and "Pictures of Lily" deserves its place in there - it's the story of a group of girls who make their way into an adult cinema, during a screening of Sexorcist Devils ... which, not at all coincidentally, I happen to know is Chrissie's favorite XXX movie ever (because it's one of mine, too), starring the queen of cocksucking, Lily Lamarr (hence the story's title), and featuring some of the sexiest, sloppiest and downright hottest blowjob scenes EVER caught on camera.

And if the movie's that HOT, you can only imagine what the story's like!

Congratulations Chrissie, and I can't wait for publication in December.

Pre-order from Amazon

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Blowjob Party!

A few of my favorite pictures from around the web (and myself!)

Just a little bit harder?

Every so often I'll find a photograph that leaves me speechless - because there's a lot better things to do with my mouth than waste energy talking. This one came from one of my all time favorite blogs - when you're done here, please visit Drenchedone.

I love biting. Taking him into my mouth, soothing him with my lips and tongue, mouthing him to the edge of orgasm, and then letting him feel my teeth as he cums, hard or harder, and gazing into his eyes, knowing that at this moment, everything is possible.

Me and Monique

Another threesome, another movie… another fantasy, I’m afraid. Although Monique is very, very real!

Me and Monique and a guy we don’t know
Thought it was time that we put on a show
We set up the camera, adjusted the lighting
Then she lay on the bed while I stripped her like lightning
Kissed her sweet feet then I moved up her calf
Nuzzled her knees and tickled. She laughed

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
He was watching and stroking his cock. He’s alright.

Tracing my tongue up Monique’s luscious thighs
Feeling her breath hitch when I got up high
Two fingers that part her moist pussy lips
A tongue that now flickers towards her hard clit
Lips that enclose her and then slowly suck
While she raises her ass and her hips start to buck

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
He was jerking his hot hard cock. He’s alright.

I placed my hands to her ass and I lifted her higher
Drove my tongue deep inside till she squealed with desire
Her hands on the back of my head held me tight
While she ground at my face with all of her might
And she screamed “Jen! I’m cumming!” and my tongue pushed in deeper
And the flood of her juices seemed to taste even sweeter

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
He was moments from spurting. Yeah, he was alright

I broke away from Monique and grabbed at that prick
And he sprayed white hot juices all over her slick
Leaking, hot pussy, all over the place
Then I lay back and pulled her onto my face
And I licked up that cum that he shot on her cunt
While she started kissing her way down my front

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
He just stood there exhausted. I hope he’s alright

Her tongue deep inside me as my mouth starts to suck
I gasp as her fingers begin a slow fuck
I cry as the rhythm builds up round my clit
I break and I scream as she bites down on it
I cum as she cums and we shudder, lie still
Unable to move till we’ve drained the last thrill

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
He’s hard once again – yeah, he’ll do alright

We drag him between us, Monique on his face
We both lean together towards the same place
We show him what happens when two red hot chicks
Are both of them gagging to suck on his prick
We snare it, we share it, we lick it in tandem
Bites, kisses, nibbles, the whole lot at random

And what of the guy who was with us that night?
We both drank his cum – so he did alright.

And what of the camera? I hear your mind whirling
Will we upload the film so you can see two hot girlies
Devour each other, then swallow a man
And if we do – will it make you our number one fan?
Roll up to see Jenny and Monique and some guy…
Who forgot to switch on his camera.

I sigh.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Cum Breath

Sometimes, the hottest thing about sucking cock is putting myself back together afterwards. Standing at the mirror, fixing my make-up, ready to go back into the workplace knowing that anyone who looks at me would never guess I’d just spent ten minutes on my knees in the store room, while a not-quite-complete stranger fed me inch after inch of delicious, hard prick.

Although my cum-breath might give them a clue.

I’m not in the habit of doing this. Libraries let you have a lot of things for free, but blowjobs aren’t part of the Dewey Decimal System, and even if they were, looking around my co-workers, there’d probably not be many takers. Or givers, come to that. But, like I said, this one guy... his name was Gary… caught my eye a while back. I love a man who reads, and he got through books like they were going out of fashion. Two or three times a month he’d come in, deposit one pile of novels, everything from Charles Dickens to Harry Potter, and pick up another. Sometimes we’d talk about them; occasionally I’d recommend something, and all the time, I’d be thinking…

He has good taste. I’d love to taste him.

The flirting started slowly. A book I suggested he read had a fairly hot sex scene in it. When he returned the book, he mentioned how much he’d enjoyed page 83. I flicked through the pages while he was still standing in front of me, and I know I blushed as my eyes reached the passage, but I smiled as well and told him, well, if you enjoyed that… and pointed him towards another book that I knew was just as hot.

Before long, I’d be racking my brains every night, trying to think of books that had turned me on, or thumbing through the romance section, trying to recall the titles that fans of that genre (usually old ladies) might have mentioned contained especially “fruity” scenes. And you’d be surprised how many there were – most readers looking for a literary turn-on will gravitate towards full-on erotica… a category that our library steadfastly avoided. But you can find just as much sex in straight romance novels, and before long Gary would be checking out three or four bodice rippers along with his usual selection of books, and I was spending as much time at the check-out desk as I could, waiting for him to bring them back and tell me what he thought of them.

Last Thursday…

I was just leaving the ladies rest room and he was just entering the men’s… the library was quiet, and besides, the restrooms are round a couple of corners, meaning nobody was in sight. He’d already returned his latest stash of books, and smiled when he saw me. “I thought I was going to choose my own books today,” he laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a few suggestions,” I replied, and a voice at the back of my mind smirked loudly. I bet you have.

“As good as the last ones?” he shot back. He named one, and rattled off three page numbers. I shook my head. “Sorry, you’ll have to jog my memory.”

He summarized the book’s plot, but that wasn’t what I meant and he knew it. “I mean, jog my memory about the pages,” I teased and then, holding open the door to the store room... the one that I had the only key to... “in private, if you like.”

He liked.

And, once he told me what he’d read, I asked him to show me as well. To hold me tight against his body, kiss me deeply and passionately and then, as his excitement grew, to begin pushing me down his body, one hand on my head, forcing me down, the other hand ripping his belt buckle open, undoing his pants, pulling out his cock, and when my mouth was at the right level, pushing it into my mouth. Holding both my hands in one of his, while the other held his prick steady while my mouth worked across his flesh. And when he came, to push in deep, push in hard, choke me on his cock and drown me in his cum. Blast after blast that wallpapered my throat and flowed like honey; and as I cleaned the last drops of sticky from his shaft with my tongue, I wondered if there was a single book in the entire library that could ever top this?

He buttoned up and we kissed again, before I hustled him out of the restroom, and then dipped into my purse. I wiped my chin and cheeks with a tissue… there’s always some spill, no matter how much you swallow. All gone. No-one would have known how much had flooded down my throat.

My lipstick was smeared… I fixed it. Nobody could have guessed that my lips had been wrapped around a hot cock.

Another touch-up here, another one there. I was the picture of propriety.

I double-checked my blouse for embarrassing droplets or stains. Not one.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts, and another to calm my still-pounding heart. Then I walked back out to the library floor, looking as prim and pristine as I always do.

There was only one thing that could give me away, and I had no intention at all of doing anything about it.

I had a serious case of cum-breath.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Take Me Out Tonight

True confessions! I’ve been known to fall to my knees in the occasional alleyway, and I almost lost my virginity at an Iggy Pop concert, except we couldn’t get the angle right, so I jerked him off instead. There was about a thousand people there, so that was pretty public. I blew a boyfriend on a bus as well, but it was late, and there was no-one else around, plus I had his coat over me at the time.

Where are you going to take me tonight?
My lover, my partner, my friend
We could go to the movies or maybe a show
Or that new restaurant in the south end
Or you could…
Take me on the subway with the tourists and their languages
Take me in a Subway, fuck me hard across the sandwiches
Take me with abandon, with a band up on the stage
Take me in the monkey house with my ass against a cage

You could take me to sit with your mother
(we did kinda promise we would)
Or out to a bar with those people from sales
It would do your promotion hopes good
Or you could…
Take me at the racing track, take me in the grass
Take me at the shopping mall and fuck me up the ass
Take me at the theatre and upstage all the shows
Fuck my mouth till your cum cascades and pours out of my nose

You could take me out to visit friends
We could spend the evening dancing
We could head on down to Target
Get that plasma screen you’re wanting
Or you could…
Take me to the parking lot to the space reserved for cripples
Bare my breasts and shoot your load, and I’ll lick it off my nipples
You can take me any place you want, fuck any hole that suits you
Take me on mass transit, spread my cunt to the commuters

Take me at a Primary with the network cameras staring
Take me roughly, call some friends round, fuck me till I’m tearing
Take me at a baseball game, take me at the Dome
Do anything you like…
Except another night at home.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Ambrose Horne - Treasures of the Blue Museum

As will already be known to attentive readers of the adventure that I titled "The Strange Case of the Midnight Succubus"*, I have since the outset of my career in deduction maintained a museum of the manifold queer and unusual articles with which man and woman pleasure or otherwise investigate one another in the course of their erotic activities.

The purpose of this Blue Museum, as I named it in tribute to Scotland Yard's Black Museum, are twofold. One, to serve as a permanent record of my own triumphs, and two, to remind humanity that there is no ending to the various and wonderful means by which we achieve that state of paradise that the French, notwithstanding the odious accent with which they do so, rightly call le petit mort.

Yet it must be said that several of these items, collected in the course of my travels, continue to baffle and perplex me, and the object with which I present you here is one such. Certainly I deduce its purpose to be not dissimilar to the crude devices with which male sufferers of certain venereal diseases are treated, its motorised components certainly being conducive with those remedies. Furthermore, the appearance of the singularly memorable term "Cuisinart," containing as it does a four letter term that does not include the letters i,s, a or r, would suggest it perhaps being relevant to similar treatments for certain maladies of the female.

At the end of so much scholastic exertion, however, I confess that I simply do not know the true purpose of this most bewitching article, and I would therefore welcome the erudition of any better informed viewer of this short notice.

*The Strange Case of the Midnight Succubus can be found in the first volume of Ambrose Horne's collected memoirs, The Erotic Adventures of Ambrose Horne.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Ambrose Horne and the Impotent Imhotep

an unpublished excerpt from the memoirs of Ambrose Horne

"It's the most confounded conundrum." Professor Carter, head of Egyptian Studies at the Museum of P____, passed the fragile fragment of papyrus to Horne. "In every other image we possess, Imhotep's lance... a representation of his manhood, as I am sure you are aware... is as impressively erect as any man could wish. Only in this particular fragment do we see it in this state As if...."

"As if," Horne said firmly. And then, "poor Imhotep. I hope it was not a lasting affliction."

And so begun an adventure that would convey Ambrose Horne, Victorian England's most erudite eroticist, to the furthest extremes of sexual pleasure... and the darkest depths of primeval perversion; one that would test his powers of deduction as sorely as it would challenge his powers of manhood. It was the Very Strange Case of the Impotent Imhotep.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Gasmask Girl

Mark was what you’d call a professional protestor, one of those people who goes in search of trouble because he wasn’t able to cause enough on his own. I didn’t pay much attention to it, apart from warning him every so often that he was going to get arrested if he kept going like this, but I think that was a part of the thrill for him. So we dated on and off for a few months and then one day while I was visiting him, and not really in the mood for anything more than the promised trip to the bar, I happened to pick up a small plastic case that was lying on the floor.

“What’s this, your make-up bag?” I joked as I opened it – and found, instead, a gas mask.

I knew he owned one; it’s how he kept going when the teargas started flying at demos, but I’d never seen it before. And of course I had to try it on… and I couldn’t believe how great it felt. Imagine your face encased in rubber. Your breathing restricted, your eyesight limited. Heat and heaviness, darkness. And HOT. Watching him as he toweled off from his shower, staring through the round glass eyelets, it amazed me how different his body suddenly looked and I wondered how different the rest of him might be.

He was obviously having similar thoughts – as I watched, I could see the towel wrapped around his waist begin to tent, and he hadn’t even spoken before I started unbuttoning my blouse. Thank goodness I didn’t wear a t-shirt tonight. I stepped out of my skirt and stood in bra and panties, as he slipped off the towel. Fuck the boy was hard. I reached out and stroked his cock. “You like Gamask Girl?” I teased, surprised at how strange my voice sounded, muffled and deep. He nodded and I jerked his cock a little. “Do you want Gasmask Girl?” I asked. Again he nodded, and I put my hand on the top of his head and pushed him to his knees – no easy task, he’s about a foot taller than me. But he knelt obediently and when I parted my legs around his face I did not even need to command him to lick me. He did it anyway.

I was feeling dizzy. The heat, the difficulty breathing, the excitement… the more he licked, and my hips bucked against his face, not even noticing the stubble that he’d forgotten to shave away, the more disconnected from reality I felt – and the wetter my cunt became, as he licked and lapped. I steadied myself, one hand on bhis head, the other reaching out for the wall, but as his tongue hit my clit I felt my leg begin to buckle. Without letting go of his head, I stepped backwards, pulling him along by his hair, then lay back on the bed, my legs wide before him and forcing his face in between them.

He licked and I bucked, ignoring his movements and concentrating on my mind, fucking his face with my pussy streaming, and when I came, I almost blacked out… almost, but not so much that I didn’t realize that I’d just experienced the most intense orgasm of my life, and given him something to remember as well. Turned out he’d always wanted to have sex with a girl in a gasmask, but had never dared to ask anybody… me, I’m not so shy. I bought my own and it sits on my bureau, right next to my favorite dildo and vibrator. In fact, there’s only one thing about it I don’t like. You can’t suck cock with a gasmask on.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Under The Table With Her

It was the last few weeks before graduation, and the whispers going around campus suggested that a few of the guys had something really big planned, something even bigger than the traditional bull roast with which the college normally celebrated the end of the year.

My friends and I were intrigued, despite ourselves. This was a guys-only deal, and worse than that, it was jocks only – the football players, the baseball team, the wannabe sports crowd whose entire academic career had been dedicated to one game or another, in the hope that a pro team might pick them up. A couple of the guys had even made it as well, the first year in five that anyone from our school had advanced that far, so they really did have something to celebrate. But again, it was guys-only.

Or was it? A couple of days before the “big night,” Mark Peters cornered me in the cafeteria. A few of the guys, apparently, had been talking… would I be interested in coming along? He rattled off the names of half a dozen other girls who’d already said yes… I knew three of them well, two more by name and one, Lara Oliver, by reputation. Of course they’d want her along, she’d probably slept with half the guys in the school.

I told Mark I’d think about it, then tracked down Brittany, one of the other girls. Did she have any idea what they were planning?

“No,” she laughed. “But I can guess.”

I smiled. “Yeah, so can I….” And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

The evening started raucously and grew wilder. thirty-three guys, seven girls… you can imagine, right? Well, you’d be wrong. For a start we were all seated, lined up along a single long table, eighteen per side and two, the future football pros, at each end. And every one of them was a gentleman, seating us politely, talking to us quietly, bringing us drinks and filling our plates… it was nothing like I’d expected, in fact it was almost “normal,” as though they were rehearsing for the fast approaching day when they’d be out in the real world, and would have to start getting to know women all over again. And then I noticed Lara’s seat was empty, even though she would have had to squeeze past me to get out from where she was sitting. I puzzled for a moment, then glanced at the look on the face of the guy sitting opposite her and I understood. She was under the table, sucking his cock.

And not just his. The guys on either side of him were getting a piece of the action too, to judge from the looks on their faces. In fact, as I watched, I could tell who was getting the benefit of her mouth, and who was making do with her hands – there’s a look that crosses a guy’s face, or sometimes simply flickers in his eyes, when you know a warm mouth has just wrapped itself over the end of his dick, and Lara was good, a few minutes with one, then she’d move to the other, until all three of them were wound up so tight that any moment now….

I caught Britanny’s eye, a few seats down from me; inclined my head towards Lara’s display. She smiled and pulled my eyes further down the table. Beth and Leila had both “vanished” too, and half a dozen guys seated opposite them were wrapped up in the same throes of ecstasy as well. I looked across the table at the guys opposite me… two who I knew, one I’d slept with back when I was a sophomore. I took a sip of wine and then began slipping off my chair towards the floor.

The view beneath the table was surreal. All those legs, and in amongst them… three, four, five crouched female forms. Six… seven… we were all under there now, and there were moments when we’d glance over at each other and, provided our mouths weren’t busy elsewhere, we’d exchange a grin. I unbuttoned the trousers directly opposite me… Lee Baxter, a guy I’d had the hots for back in freshman class, but who was always too wrapped up with a blonde to notice me. Well, he’d notice me now.

No underwear. I unwrapped the cocks on either side of him. None there, either. Somebody had obviously planned this well, but I wasn’t complaining. All three were stiff as boards; I folded my fists around the two on either side of Lee, then licked my tongue up his erection, as it rested against his abdomen. It stood to attention immediately, and my mouth closed around the helmet. Above me, I heard somebody groan.

Have you ever had three cocks in front of you? One in each hand, one in your mouth? There is no sensation like it. Some girls reckon that a cock’s a cock, and that apart from size and sometimes smell, there’s nothing to choose between them. Wrong. Each one felt very different… the heat, the texture, its responses to my touch. And each one tasted different as well… this one’s a little sour, this one’s a little bland – and this one’s just right.

It was Terry, the guy I’d slept with way back when. I’d always remembered him fondly and now I knew why; my mouth closed over him and it felt like going home. Every ridge and vein on his dick burned itself back into my memory and it was all I could do to remember I had two other erections to sort out as well. Reluctantly, I left Terry for a moment and scooted to the guy on the other end, jerked him hard and then sucked even harder. Put all my attention and effort into his prick, and was rewarded with that sudden shift that lets you know a guy’s about to come. I raised my head and jerked some more, felt the hot white spurt across my face, then went back to Terry, one hand now slowly jerking Lee, his neighbor, and one unbuttoning my next prize, the guy on his other side. And he was a treat, big enough that my hand felt tiny… big enough that my mouth could barely fit on him. Shit, sorry Terry, but I’ve found one even better.

How many cocks did I suck that night? Eight… nine if you count the guy who came as soon as my mouth closed over him. Ten, if you count the guy I returned to because his prick felt better than all of them. How much cum did I swallow? Probably not as much as I could have, but more than enough to please my victims. And how good did I feel afterwards? FUCKING WONDERFUL!

Afterwards, with the tables cleared away and everyone milling around, either dancing or talking, I exchanged a few words with Lara. “Did you know this was on the menu?”

She laughed. “Know about it? It was my idea. They have the same fucking bull roast every year, but this year’s special because of Pete and Milan…” our pro ball heroes, of course. “So I thought fuck the bull roast, let’s have a Blow Roast.” Then she extended a finger and wiped an errant glob of cum off my chin. “I love a messy eater,” she said, as she leaned in and kissed me. “I’m doing a sorority tomorrow. Twenty-five girls need their pussies licked, and I could only find three guys who’ll do it. Do you want to help make up the numbers?”

Damn, I really do miss college sometimes