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   #######

   I snorted up the long line on the coffee table and realized it was the
last of them.  There had been at least two grams there, all now gone.  I
knew what came next and stood as soon as the rush subsided enough that it
allowed me to do it.

   First I dropped my pants and underwear - a subtle way to let him know I
was up for a fuck if he wanted to go that direction.  I had lost so much
weight of late that I didn't even have to unzip - I just pulled them down
and stepped out of them.

   Next I pulled off my blouse as I didn't want any cum stains on it later.
I decided to keep the bra on though, partially because it made my boobs
look good and partially because I was noticing that my boobs were starting
to sag a bit for the first time ever since they came in at 13.  (Gravity
sucks.)

   He could have continued to sit there on the couch - I would gladly have
gone down on him in the chair - but instead he stood up and undid his belt.
I had promised him a good old fashioned "on my knees and worship his cock"
blowjob and I felt obliged to keep the promise.  I slid down to my knees
and found myself face to face with his crotch.  I remember his jeans were
slightly frayed and also slightly dirty.  The little second pocket that men
have inside their main hip pocket (I guess it's to cary keys or change) had
an odd wear pattern that looked like he was always carrying chapstick or
perhaps a cocaine "bullet" there.  The jeans were 501's with the metal
buttons instead of a zipper, and I took a moment to fumble with each one
then pulled down his pants and underwear to his thighs.

   (I could tell he was looking for me to just fish out his cock and go to
work - even at my young age I had already figured out its was some sort of
a power thing with men - but having done it once or twice before I knew
that rubbing your nose against denim isn't a good feeling.)

   He wasn't completely hard when I exposed him and his balls were still
tight like a little change purse.  I knew men who did cocaine could have
trouble getting it up sometimes at first, but in his case I actually sensed
fear rather than eagerness.  I reached out and grabbed it with my hand
starting underneath at the balls, briefly cupping them before moving my
hand forward to grasp his manhood fully.  The hole at the end was bigger
than most and the head of his circumcised cock seemed to pull at the bottom
as he grew in my hand.  If you were to think of his cock as a face, his had
the recessive chin of an inbred - the bottom seemed to pull backward as the
rest of his cock grew.  I had never seen one quite like it before.

   I played with it a bit - just touching it and stroking it as it got
hard. I'm sure to guys it's no big deal, but even now more than a quarter
century later I still love watching that.  The scar where I guess his
foreskin has been removed was a darker tan while his cock and balls were
the lighter pink of a baby's skin.

   His dark pubic hair was long and stringy.  (Back then everyone had pubic
hair.) It smelled of a musk and slightly unwashed - which actually wasn't a
bad thing.  Looking at his cock from the angle I was - which was straight
on - he looked like a big nosed man with a full head of hair - and for some
reason I found that funny and started giggling a bit.

   I should have known better - never laugh at a man's cock.  He grabbed my
hair and pointedly asked me what was so funny.  I was stunned and didn't
know what to say, so is simply opened up my mouth and took him in.  He
pushed himself into the back of my throat pretty forcefully but otherwise
withdrew the question.

   He was not large - perhaps just a bit more than 5 inches.  I could
easily take him in and found my nose buried in his fragrant pubes.  He kept
his cock there for an uncomfortably long time and stopped me from moving my
head when I tried to move back.  When I was so uncomfortable I felt like I
was choking, he finally moved his hips backwards and I found myself
thankful for the chance to breathe.

   I remember that when his cock finally came out of my mouth I finally
looked down and realized he was wearing black underwear.  I knew men wore
other than tight white undies but had never actually seen any before.  I
briefly thought they were panties and again found myself slightly amused,
but his cock was back in my mouth and knocking on the back of my throat
before I had the chance.

   It's said that sometimes you have sex and sometimes you fuck and I had
found early on that both can be a lot of fun.  Similarly, you can give a
blowjob or a man can fuck your mouth and that can be fun as well.  In this
case, though, I found it harder to find the pleasure in being force fed his
cock as he moved back and forth.  I had to find a rhythm to match his so
that my hair would stop getting pulled as he moved himself in and out, but
eventually a started to get into synch with him.

   I briefly tried to play with his cock and balls but he showed little
interest and a little annoyance with that, so instead I used one hand to
grab his thigh so that I could keep my balance as he pushed back and forth.
The other I used the other to diddle myself.  (Masturbation always makes
giving head hotter.)

   Some men like it when they discover that you're buffing the muffin, but
when he realized what I was up to his pace got faster and rougher.  I don't
think it was from being horny - there was an angry edge to it.  For some
reason, I found that to be exciting and it added to the sensation.  He
seemed to like it too, as I could feel and taste the first little leaks of
cum whenever he moved his cock back far enough to run the head of his cock
across my tongue.  I have frankly never been a fan of getting a mouth full
of cum, but a drop here and there I kind of liked as it has a very unique
texture.

   I remember that throughout it all, I was still hoping that he would
decide to fuck me.  I was wet and feeling nasty and I know it would have
been good, but it became apparent quickly that he was looking to cum in my
mouth.  I could actually feel him getting stiffer in my mouth and he was
starting to take longer strokes.  You get a feel for these kinds of things
quick once you start sucking cock, and I knew what was coming next.

   When it started he tried to pull himself out, either as an involuntarily
reflex or because he wanted to cum on my face like some porn fantasy, but
it was my turn to take control.  I used my hands to pull him into my mouth
and into the back of my throat.  When the contractions started I felt the
spurts in the back of my throat but didn't taste them.  A few quick gulps
and it was all over.  No muss no fuss.

   I held him in my mouth another minute - mostly because I hoped against
hope I could get him hard to fuck me, but more so because I was close to an
orgasm myself, which I finished wetly still there on my knees.

   As his patience thinned and he pulled himself out of my lips with an
audible pop, he looked down at me with a look that was somewhere between
disgust and contempt and I could tell that our time together was at an end.
As a parting gift, I removed my hand from between my legs and discretely
wiped it on his black man panties, sure that his lovely perfect wife would
smell me when she did his laundry later.

   His pants were up and buttoned and he was out the door before I could
stand up.  His explanation was that it was a holiday and he had to get home
"to the kids." I'm sure that within the next few hours he would be sitting
down for his Thanksgiving dinner surrounded by his pretty little wife, her
parents and his kids.  That's the kind of guy he was.

   I don't really remember his name.  I don't even really remember his
face. (At least not nearly as well as I remember his cock and balls.) I do
remember that those few spurts were really all I ate that Thanksgiving day.
The rest of the day I did nothing but cocaine, pot, and alcohol.

   The whole sex act had been a transaction of sorts - a payment in a way,
but not in the way you might think.  I wasn't some coke whore that swapped
lines for a blowjob that day, I was actually just a lonely person on a
holiday and promised that man I'd give him head if he'd stop by and provide
some company.  It was even my cocaine.