For the Ladies by Kerr Fuffle kerrfuffle@yahoo.com My fascination with oral sex giving, not receiving started artlessly enough, without pretense or guile. Debbie and I had been work friends for years, the kind of work friend with whom you share increasingly intimate secrets: embarrassing personal episodes, petty insecurities that make you mildly ashamed, and, eventually, matters of sex. The evolution to sexual topics was entirely natural, never forced, just one of those things that, being on both of our minds so much, became an unavoidable part of conversation. The first time it came up, standing at the vending machines together, we were expressing our mutual frustration at not having a relationship, which inevitably led to confessions of extreme horniness, and its close cousin, masturbation. Debbie told me how she had been laying on the couch after a nap one hot afternoon, trying to wake up, when her thoughts drifted carnally to a mutual acquaintance at the office. The object of her fantasizing was unquestionably handsome, broad-shouldered, and studly in a rock hard sort of way. Before she even realized it, Debbie said her fingers had found their way inside her panties, damp and fragrant, where she slid one slowly up her slick pussy folds to her clit. In but a few seconds of stroking, at first slow and gentle, and then fast, rough and unyielding, she brought herself to a crashing orgasm. She looked at me expectantly, indicating with her fixed stare that she expected me to reciprocate with my own story of beating off. Her tale had made me plenty hard and she could tell, so it wasn't that hard for me to begin. "Well, Deb, I fantasize about you when I masturbate," I said, keeping steady eye contact with her. I wasn't trying to make a move, I was just telling the unadorned truth. "You do?" she asked, eyes wider. "I better hear this." Debbie isn't drop dead gorgeous, but she's plenty attractive. She's quite petite, which is my preference, given that I'm only 5' 8". She's very handsomely proportioned though, with long slim legs, a tight ass, generous breasts, a flat stomach, and long soft hair. She's very athletic and it shows, and I fantasize about her all the time. In particular, I dream of pulling down her panties from under her short skirt (she knows she has great legs and likes to show them off, which is fine with all the men she encounters), and burying my face in her crotch. In my trance, she settles back, splays her legs wide, and pulls my head gently into her warm open flesh, making me hard as a board, until I explode as I clutch and pull and rub myself with increasing ferocity. Debbie looked astonished. "You beat off thinking about eating me? Most guys hate that!" "I don't. I love it. Always have." "That's unbelievable," she said. "And hot, if you don't mind me saying so." She was blushing uncontrollably. I tried to help her over her embarrassment. "Hey, I think it's hot, too. Don't forget, I'm the one with spunk on his hand." She responded to my sheepish smile with an expression of regret and no small measure of resentment. "God, most guys only want to get a blow job and then fuck. They never want to reciprocate with their mouths. If they give any head at all, it's real quick and you can tell they're only doing it because they think they have to." "Hasn't any guy ever given you great head?" "Not really. Not to the point that I could say I was really satisfied. Definitely nothing memorable or earth-shaking." She was clearly unhappy. I tried to be sympathetic. "Deb, I'm sorry. That must be frustrating." "You have no fucking idea. Guys love blow jobs but they hate to return the favor. Lots of women love to give blow jobs, but they like getting head as much as guys do. Look, I think I give outstanding head, lots of guys have told me that. I get really worked up and stay at it for as long as he wants. I use my hands, I suck their balls, I've even swallowed and let guys cum on my tits. But when a guy goes down on me, I can always tell that he's not into it and is just waiting until he can fuck me." She was seriously upset now. "I like fucking, too, but I'd kill to find a guy who wanted to dive face first into my crotch and stay there until I couldn't stand it anymore." I didn't know what to say. "Um ..." Debbie looked at me intently. "Are you shitting me? Do you really like to eat pussy." "More than anything," I replied sincerely. She knew I meant it. Deb looked at me hard for what seemed like a good long time, and then she reached a hand behind my neck and pulled me to her. She opened her mouth wide, placed her tongue full in my waiting mouth, and filled me with hot breath, tongue and saliva. She took my hand, said "We'll see," and led me out to the parking lot to her SUV. As she unlocked the doors, climbed into the leather back seat and stretched out with her back against the door, she didn't take her eyes off me while she removed her shoes, and placed one foot on the floor and wedged the other one where the seatbelts come out. "Help yourself." I returned her gaze and made myself comfortable. I placed a hand on each bare leg, soft, smooth, and brown, and slowly slid my palms up to her silken thighs, where they remained, exploring the delightful terrain. Debbie squirmed and made a small guttural sound, but we kept our eyes fixed on each other. My fingers slid slowly under the lacy edges of her pale blue panties, walked up the mound of her public bone, and lost themselves in her pubic hair. God, I love hairy bushes. I played with her hair for a while, and brushed my thumbs lightly on both sides of the edges of her vagina and onto the sensitive cleft of her thighs, slowly working my thumbs toward the center until they found wetness, all warm and slippery. I spread her pussy lips gently apart, and worked my thumbs up and down in parallel motion. She sat up to give me a deep, forceful tongue kiss, before settling back down. The wet spot on her panties became noticeably darker. She closed her eyes and went inside herself, cutting off all outside distractions. With one thumb probing gently into her opening, the other found her clit, all swollen and exposed. I circled there very slowly, feeling its texture, resisting it gently, then plucking carefully, but insistently. And thus we stayed for several long minutes, until Debbie flooded the seat with her cum and her scent, undone, riding the wave, exhaling completely, consumed by the overwhelming sensations of spasm and release and fluid of her cunt. Orgasm number one. Neither of us moved for several languorous minutes. Gripping the top of her panties from the inside with both hands, I gently but firmly pulled them down her long, beautiful legs. She did not resist, but let her legs fall open wider, freed from their restraint. My hands returned to her inner thighs, stroking softly in parallel. As I lowered my head, she could not see me with closed eyes, but knew what I was doing. What I was going to do. She titled her pelvis toward me for maximum availability. Her pussy was soaking wet, at once puffy and sodden. I placed the flat of my extended tongue between her cunt lips, and licked upward slowly, one time, and lifted my tongue from her body. Debbie arched her back and moaned encouragingly. I licked her again the same way, but this time traversed up to her clit, which I sucked and tongued deeply, slowly but with more urgency, with hunger, without ever removing my tongue from her clit. I lapped up her juice, inviting her to supply more, pressing against her pussy and her clit with my mouth and tongue and chin, entering her full opening, pressing my nose into her clit, which I drilled gently, at first, then more fiercely. She pulled my head into her crotch with real force, using both hands. I gripped her pelvis and pulled her further into my mouth, covering my face with her cum, while she ground herself into me. Releasing my head, she cupped both breasts and squeezed them mercilessly through her gauzy shirt, before pinching her nipples hard. Her flood was now abundant, and I sucked her clit harder, pulling it into my mouth, careful to make it hurt just a little. She needed more. "God," she begged, "don't ... stop ..." No chance, I told her, my mouth millimeters from her bush so my words could escape. I renewed the assault, eating her fully, tongue inside her hole, then along the lips, then slobbering her clit, now flicking the button relentlessly, as she started to squirm, losing control. The sensations became overpowering, and she tried to push away. I held firmly to her hips, my tongue working very fast, feeling her reaction, finding her rhythm, advancing and retreating as her movements led me, but never giving ground for long, maintaining intense focus on her response, probing, listening for her to guide me. My face danced with her cunt, giving as much friction as I could provide, pushing when she yielded, yielding when she pushed. It quickly became too much for her, just as it should. Sounds escaped, first moaning, then murmuring, and then expressing themselves fully, throaty noises of unbearable pleasure, spasms too strong to control. She grabbed my hair fervently, tossing my head as her hips lurched, not being able to stand anymore or to stop. My beard was soaked with cum and my mustache raked across her cunt, as she bucked convulsively, barked out sharp pleading noises, shook fiercely, and fell back, spent and liquefied. Orgasm number two. Time passed, as she lay there limp and insensate, the side of my head resting gently on her crotch. My lips and tongue were numb with feeling, full of delicious stink and completely marinated with sex. Occasionally, she rippled with an aftershock, as she slowly regained control of her breathing. Eventually, she opened one eye to look at me lazily as if to see if I were still there. She closed both eyes again, but pulled my face to hers, and swallowed me in a deep, long, gluttonous kiss, completely indifferent to the wonderful mess that covered my face. "Oh ... my ... God," she breathed into my ear. "You're welcome," I replied with a smile. I wish I could say that Debbie spread the word among all her friends, who offered me their crotches in an unending parade of slobbering pussies. It was not to be. But I did learn a valuable lesson of just how much women desperately craved oral sex, and how few men cared to satisfy that need. After that, I was not quite so innocent about offering my oral services. When I saw an opportunity, I went for it. Often, my offer was refused, sometimes with real anger. But I found enough willing takers to keep trying. Sheryl was my favorite. I had lusted for her since I met her at her daughter's house. She was married to a sports nut who was a nice enough guy, incredibly well hung (she later told me), and quite accomplished in long, intense fucking, which Sheryl adored. But foreplay was minimal, and he never gave her head after they stopped dating, although he insisted on blow jobs whenever they had sex. She happily obliged, but secretly wished he would return the favor. She masturbated often during the afternoon with a massive vibrator and other toys, but she wanted a face in her crotch. She and a girlfriend tried eating each other, but neither really enjoyed it all that much. Sheryl had been one of those high school girls that drove every male insane, including her teachers. She was slim with small pretty breasts, on the tall side, with creamy legs, long black hair and deep brown eyes. She was precisely the kind of woman who would never think of me sexually, but she was vividly aware that every guy wanted to do her in the worst way possible. Sheryl had a lot of sexual experience, but most of the guys took the athletic approach, like her dopey husband. One rainy Sunday afternoon, I brought my daughter over to Sheryl's house, so her husband could take the girls to the movies. After some perfunctory small talk, I turned to leave when Sheryl asked if I wanted to stay for coffee. I did and we headed for the kitchen. "On second thought," she said, "I'm way over-caffeinated already. How about a drink?" She mixed up a shaker of blue martinis and we settled into facing recliners in the living room. Her feet were bare, and she wore a faded flannel shirt with the tails hanging outside her frilly miniskirt. She looked terrific, as she always did. We enjoyed our drinks, the rain fell, and we talked about the kids, before turning to how we met our spouses. "Dale was fun in college, but then I got pregnant and he spent most of his time making a shit load of money. I didn't mind it all that much, but it wasn't very romantic, you know?" She refilled our drinks before settling down in her chair like a cat. "I think that's a pretty common experience." I took a sip and thought back many years. "We had our wild times together, too. I guess I miss them when I think about it." "Do you think about that often? I do. All the fucking time, it seems. Especially when I'm alone, if you get my meaning." The drinks were starting to work. I responded that I thought I did, but if she wanted to elaborate, that would be okay with me. She laughed and said, "You know what I'm saying! Sometimes you need a different kind of a jolt, even if you have to provide it yourself." She winked at me in a dirty way, while I tried not to fall apart. "Well, what about you? Don't you ever show yourself a good time in ways that only you know about? Don't pretend you don't." "Who's pretending?" I asked. "I provide self-service when I feel the need." "Oh, yeah, like what? Here, let me make another pitcher before you answer." I followed her back into the kitchen, holding onto the wall to steady myself. I drained the last swallow and handed her my glass. She reached past the glass to touch my fingers, not letting go while she asked again, "So, what do you do?" So I told her: "I lay in bed and strip down to my shorts. I cup my balls with one hand and stroke my cock with the other. Then I think about eating some beautiful woman until she comes all over my face and I blow a huge load." "Oh, fuck, I wish someone would do that to me. Dale never eats me out! I can't remember the last time." She looked away and tried to remember, but the alcohol wasn't improving her memory. "Do you eat anyone beside your wife?" she asked in a way that didn't seem entirely rhetorical. So I told her my Debbie story. She didn't move from the spot near the counter, but she was clearly moved as she repeatedly crossed and uncrossed her legs, and clutched at her throat. When I finished, there was silence, complete and total silence. She looked at me without shame, and then heaved herself up to sit on the marble countertop and put her pretty bare feet up on the edge. "Do me," she said. "Now." After collecting myself, I walked slowly toward her. She took my head in both hands and gave me a long, deep kiss, before pushing my head down to where she wanted it to be. She wasn't wearing any underpants, and her pussy was freshly shaved. Sheryl guided me in, as I wrapped my arms under her thighs and locked my hands around her legs. She leaned back on her palms, and offered me her cunt, which was shiny with anticipation. Sheryl let me know she didn't want me to be gentle. She wanted me to fuck her with my face. I was happy to oblige. I dove in, penetrating her with my extended tongue. She squirmed her pelvis forward and breathed, "Unh ..." I practically swallowed her whole, smearing her cum into my beard, grinding my face into her crotch. Her fingers entangled my hair and urged me on. I sucked her clit thoroughly as she wrapped her legs around my neck, pulling me in more deeply. I grabbed the flesh of her ass checks and ate her entirely, like Hannibal Lechter having his last meal. She unbuttoned her shirt and opened it wide, revealing her small, beautiful tits, with nipples at full attention. I cupped them and pulled the points, gently at first and then less so. "Harder," she instructed, and I obeyed. There was no reason whatsoever to stop, and we kept going at it for quite a while. She was a squirter, which I love, and she came time after time, streaming cum into my beard and making fierce-sounding noises. It was impossible to keep track of her orgasms, one crashing into the next, one after the other, with ill-defined peaks and troughs in between. She held my head so tightly that we fused, and I could feel her spasms as if they were my own. At one point Sheryl leaned back, overwhelmed, not stopping but needing some relief, presenting me with a clear view of her pretty little asshole. I did not hesitate, pressing my dripping thumb gently on the hole, but not so gently she didn't know it was there. Her reaction was immediate. She thrust her bottom out and held my elbow so I couldn't pull my thumb away. I pressed deeper, all the while inhaling her smell and sucking the cum from her. But the position was awkward, so I switched to my middle finger. She got the point. Pushing my head still harder into her pussy, she ground her anus into my finger, driving it about a half an inch inside her, and let out a whimper. Her asshole was tight and full, but yielding to my steady pressure as my finger continued to penetrate. Sheryl's legs surrounded me and she released a full sound of intense gratification. I shook my head ferociously against her clit, pressing hard with the flat of my tongue, as she pissed cum all over my face, eliciting a deep growl and then a sharp yelp. "Fuck!" she announced, and grabbed my wrist and forced by finger high up into her asshole. We were delirious, relentless, shameless. Finally, she shook like a flag in the rain, gasping and bucking, begging for more, to stop, to keep going, "Oh, god, oh, fuck, oh, oh, oh, ..." She released one last flood, laid back, spent, on the cold countertop, legs spread wide, pussy all red, my finger still embedded inside her ass, both of us gasping for breath. I stood up, lifted her legs off my shoulders and let them dangle over the cabinets. She lay there, consumed and limp, mouth open wide and chest heaving, recovering slowly. We were both completely sober now, of course, and she gave me a business-like look that suggested our recent exertions met with her approval. She still struggled to regain her breathing, but pushed herself off the counter, standing unsteadily on the tile floor, and pushed me backward into the living room and into one of the recliners. The rain continued to beat down. She kneeled on the floor and grabbed at my belt, undoing the buckle with evident contempt. Without ceremony or permission, she forced down my zipper and yanked off my pants and my boxers. My hard on ached. Sheryl climbed onto the footrest of the recliner and seized my cock in her elegant hand. She licked upward from the base before spitting copiously on the head, using her other hand to spread it generously. Her mouth engulfed my prick entirely, as her fingernails scraped my balls, just enough to let me know not to protest. She sucked like she meant it, which she convinced me that she did, and she stroked me tightly with her free hand. Her head turned from side to side, whipping her dark straight hair violently, sometimes covering my stomach so I could only feel, but not see, what she was doing. My head wrenched back and I arched my spine, and her fingers cupped my balls as my ass lifted off the chair. She gently tugged my sack, and I spread my legs wider, not realizing that I had given her the same opening she had given me. Like me, she did not hesitate. She slid a long, manicured middle finger in her mouth for lubrication, and found my asshole. I spread my cheeks, expecting to feel pain. She did not disappoint. Sheryl was careful with her nail, but she would not be denied, and I had to relax and accept her finger deep inside me, even while she slurped and suck my cock without interruption. I was in her control entirely, and I yielded unreservedly. When her finger went in as far as it could go, I ground my ass into her hand to make it go farther, and gasped audibly. Her mouth pumped my cock, faster and faster, sucking hard with all the pressure she could bring, scratching my balls roughly with her nails, and grinding my asshole without remorse. With one quick and unexpected move, she spun herself around on top of me and pressed her crotch into my face. I responded hungrily, squeezing her ass tightly and extending my tongue into her hole as far as it would go. She rubbed her cunt against my face with force, while riding my cock unrelentingly, slobbering her spit, squeezing my balls, and prodding my full ass. The only thing left for me to do was ream her ass with my own finger, which I proceeded to do. Her legs shot straight out, as she both welcomed my attack and resisted the penetration to feel its full effect. She pushed back to force my finger deeper, and shoved her finger into me so hard that it hurt. I grunted loudly before diving back into her pussy. We continued apace like two animals for an unknowable amount of time, giving and receiving unforgivingly, refusing to stop, without a single intelligent thought crossing either of our minds, communicating entirely with our mouths on our organs, encouraging sensory overload to get back the same. She squirted cum directly into my saturated beard, the excess dribbling into the expensive upholstery beneath my head. Finally, I felt the inevitable tingle emerging from just below the head of my cock. My breathing changed and she knew immediately what was happening. Sheryl pumped harder and sucked more fiercely, plunging her finger deeper inside me, dominating me entirely. As the feeling in my dick grew, I could not maintain the same attention to her cunt, so I lifted my mouth off to vocalize my exquisite discomfort, and drove deeper into her asshole. She shook and soaked me again, but her mouth would not relent. My cock quivered, engulfed in feeling that grew beyond my capacity to contain it, and I shouted as I bucked forcibly and the cum exploded from my balls into Sheryl's waiting mouth. She did not hesitate, but squeezed my balls and pulled my cock as wave after wave of convulsions took me absolutely. One more gasp and one more eruption, smaller than the first but still murderous, and then I fell back, done and done. I gasped for breath, and let out my own, "Oh, God ..." Sheryl rolled off of me, completely spent and satisfied, pleased at the wreck she had made of me. She pulled her finger out of my ass excruciatingly slowly, and licked my drained prick until I begged her to stop. Since then, Sheryl and I get together whenever we can, with similar results. But we both know, without having to say a single word, that she'd drop me like a bad habit if ever I lost my taste for fresh tenderloin. Hey, do I look worried to you? 2004 Kerr Fuffle. All rights reserved