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 Mast MMf Oral

   By now I expect you've all read Jake's version of the first night we
hooked up; pretty hot stuff, huh?  While I acknowledge that everything he
wrote is factually correct, I do want to clarify that I don't make a habit
of picking up on my little brother's friends, okay?  Perhaps the reader
might be interested in a little bit of my own background?  I'll assume the
answer is yes...

   First off, I woke up the next day feeling tired but very satiated and I
laid in the bed a little while, imagining that Jake figured I was some
fucked out, slutty sex freak.  After a couple of minutes of this
self-doubt, I headed to the bathroom.

   My rectum felt so tightly packed with shit that my asshole quivered as
the length and girth of a huge cum-coated turdloaf plopped into the bowl,
reawakening pleasant physical memories of the reaming Jake had given me
just hours earlier.  As I strained to push out another large piece of crap,
I started pinching and stroking my clitoris with my right hand while
tweaking each nipple to erectness in turn with my left hand.

   All the while, my mind was steady thinking crazy, freak/sexy thoughts
about Jake and his big, sweet dick.  In no time I was cumming all over my
hand and fingers, yet I continued to stroke myself until I came four
distinct times.

   As I sat there on the toilet, finger-frigging myself, I thought back to
the first time I saw Jake.  Larry had brought him over for some of Momma's
fried chicken one Sunday afternoon.  To be honest, I didn't really think
much about him at first, other than to observe that he was very tall for
his age, which I thought to be around 15 or so.

   After he had been formally introduced, I began to look him over more
closely.  He had a nice tan, a slender body and light blonde hair that was
closely cropped, like the preppies wore their hair in those days.  After a
few more minutes of conversation, I suddenly realized that I had been
watching this boy's daddy, stripped to the waist, mowing their little yard
just a few days prior.  In fact, the sight of that man's tanned,
well-muscled and powerful body sweating slightly as he pushed the little
lawnmower in straight lines, back and forth, across their yard was an image
I recalled later on that evening as I masturbated myself to multiple
orgasms.

   After that initial meeting, Jake became a regular fixture at our place;
in fact, it was a rare evening when he wasn't around and I soon found that
I missed him terribly when he wasn't there.  Most nights he would sit on
the end of the couch or stand in the corner, leaning lightly against the
upright piano.

   Jake was very shy until he got to know a person, then he would open up
and speak easy enough.  But his shyness didn't keep him from checking me
out.  I used to catch him sneaking glances at me all the time, but I never
said anything about it because I figured he'd be embarrassed and stop
coming around.

   Of course, I liked to look at him too, you understand; he was very easy
on the eye, quite handsome I'll have to say.  He was also very polite and
he called all my momma's friends ma'am or mister, even if they didn't
deserve to be treated with such respect.  As for myself, I have very little
respect for those men my momma called her friends.  The reader will soon
learn why I feel this way...

   I have heard it said that people are products of their environment.  My
experience in life thus far has shown me that most men are out for one
thing only, namely sexual conquest, the nastier the better.  Fortunately, I
learned this rather early on in my life.

   Now, my momma's girlfriends were all nice women who either worked with
her down at the factory or else they were neighbor ladies whose men were
nowhere to be found anymore.  On the other hand, the majority of those men
who came around Momma's trailer were the stereotypical musician types; good
looking, snappy dressers who were all real sweet talkers.  But they were
also trifling men for the most part; the type of goodtimin' men who would
spend up all your rent money on liquor and dope or, worse yet, some other
woman and then leave you flat busted and off they'd go to the next woman on
their list.

   However, some of them were real creeps; the types that made me feel
dirty when they looked me up and down, undressing me with their eyes or
finding an excuse to rub against me as they passed by me in the narrow
hallways of the trailer.  Worse yet, some of them were only one step
removed from child molesters, really.  These assholes would trump up some
excuse to come around when Momma was at work, then try to hit on me.

   As I continued to stroke my pussy and clitoris there in the bathroom, I
soon began to recall the events of a particular day when I was just barely
twelve years old.  One of Momma's friends, old Bob, came over early one
morning, just after she left for work, to pick up his wallet.  He thought
he had left it in the sofa cushions, he said.  Well, it was there (he
probably left it on purpose) and I foolishly expected he would leave right
away, but he just sat down on the sofa and put his shiny, black wingtips up
on the coffee table, which would've meant big trouble if Momma had been
there.

   "Gina, you sure are a fine looking young girl," old Bob said, looking me
up and down with an appraising eye.  He licked his lips and grinned at me.

   "Thank you, Mr.  Jones," I said, wishing he would leave so I could go
back to bed.  "Yes sir, a fine looking young girl...call me old Bob, Gina.
Ain't nobody calls me Mr.  Jones."

   "Momma said `taint polite to call adults by their first names, Mr. 
Jones."

   "You're momma ain't here right now, is she?" old Bob replied, leering at
me suggestively.  "So you do as I say now, Gina."

   "Yes sir, old Bob," I answered, feigning a slight bit of apprehension.

   I could sense he had something else on his mind so I let him ramble on
about this and that, making his little veiled threats and such until he
finally came out with it; he wanted his dick sucked and wasn't leaving
until I did so.  In fact, he said, he was even willing to pay me to do it.

   "How much money will you give me, then?" I asked since I had never been
paid to do such a thing.

   "It'd be worth twenty dollars to me if you let me cum in your mouth and
you swallow it down," he replied with a lecherous grin on his face as he
stroked his goatee.  He leaned forward, reached underneath my pajama top
and cupped my barely pubescent breasts, playing with the nipples until they
hardened, protruding against the cotton material of my training bra.

   "If I do this, promise you'll leave?"

   "Yes, I will."

   "You've got to stay quiet, then.  If you make any noise Larry will wake
up..."

   He indicated that he would remain silent.  So after a few more minutes
of hesitation, all the while shedding a few fake tears to make him feel
like the big, tough man he thought he was, I finally obliged him, taking
his wrinkled, shriveled up uncircumcised penis into my warm, wet mouth.

   I quickly realized that he was having trouble getting fully hard so I
tried to pump a little life into his organ with one of my hands as the
other held a tight clinch around the base of his flaccid cock to keep the
blood from draining out again once it finally got there.  After I sucked
his half-hard dick for about three minutes or so, his pelvis twitched a
little and some spunk spurted out of his dick, then out of the corner of my
mouth as well, which he wiped away with his handkerchief.

   He then reached in his wallet and handed me a twenty dollar bill.  Then
seemingly embarrassed, he quickly did up his pants and left hurriedly.  I
tucked the twenty in the cup of my training bra and went back to my bed,
where I promptly fell asleep again.

   About an hour later I woke up when I heard someone quietly knocking at
the screen door.  I opened it to see old Bob and another of Momma's
friends, Mr.  Howard, standing there, looking quite nervous.  I looked at
the both of them, these old men standing there as if to ask for a handout
and I could barely keep from laughing.

   Old Bob finally asked, "Can we come in?" I moved out of the door frame
and motioned them inside.

   "Blackie wants to know if you'd do him too, Gina.  But if you want us to
leave, we will," old Bob continued, obviously very nervous.

   "Should I call you Blackie, then, Mr.  Howard?" I asked him teasingly.

   "Whatever you prefer is fine, Miss Gina," he replied in a slow, southern
lilt that made me laugh a little inside of myself.  I could tell he was
uncomfortable, as it was obvious from his deferential demeanor that he was
having serious second thoughts about coming here with old Bob.  I almost
felt sorry for him.  Almost.

   I decided to have a little fun with them, so I asked him pointblank: "Do
you want me to suck your dick like I just did for old Bob?"

   Then I asked of them both, "Is that what you want, you nasty old men?"

   Then I asked old Bob, "I suppose you want to watch, huh, old Bob?"

   By their pained expressions I could tell that they were about ready to
cut and run if I kept on badgering them, so I lowered my voice, calmed the
tone and said I would, provided the payment was the same.  Mr.  Howard took
a large roll of bills out of his pocket, peeled a twenty from it and placed
the bill in the palm of my hand.  I transferred the bill to my bra, then I
turned toward the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

   As it was percolating, I knelt on the floor and unzipped Mr.  Howard's
trousers, taking his rather large, uncut penis in my hands and I placed the
spongy cocktip just inside my mouth.  I posed like this for a few seconds,
which seemed to interest old Bob as I saw him beginning to fidget slightly
where he sat.  Then he took out his half-hard dick and began to jack
himself off as he watched me sucking his friend's thick cock, my hands
holding on tightly to Mr.  Howard's stiff shaft as my lips and tongue
worked his massive manhood like a Popsicle.

   I felt Blackie's dick stiffening even more as he began to thrust his
pelvis forward, cramming his enormous rod into my mouth again and again,
the spit on his cock slopping all over my lips and cheeks, then dripping
down my chin before falling into a puddle on the floor between my knees.

   Finally he came and I let him grab me by my hair and impale my face on
his big, slick cock as he shot his cum down my throat.  I managed to
swallow his whole load and then I looked over at old Bob, feverishly
pulling at his now finally, fully erect dick.

   I crawled over on my hands and knees and sucked on his dickhead quite
greedily.  The mix of Mr.  Howard's jizm, mingling with the pre-cum from
old Bob's cock, tasted so good to me that I began to pump old Bob's shaft
and I was soon rewarded with a nice large spurt of semen, which I swallowed
down with pleasure.

   After he came I released his cock from my lips and let it slide back
down into his lap, the saliva/ejaculate mix causing his penis to glisten in
the sunlight now streaming into the room.

   When old Bob finally recovered his composure, he hesitantly offered me
another twenty, which I gladly accepted, even though I wanted to suck him
off that time.  I then made them promise to go home and not come back that
day because I was so tired.

   After I ushered them out the door, I lit a cigarette out of a half-pack
I stole from Momma`s bedroom table.  Then I sat down at the kitchen table,
drank a quick cup of coffee, had another cigarette with it, and then I
decided to take a long, hot shower.

   As I slowly soaped my newly budding breasts, my nipples again became
distended and extremely sensitive.  My hands were quickly drawn to my
sparsely-haired pussy; the soap suds sliding down my plump, little pre-teen
girl thighs felt so delicious.

   After I washed the soap from myself, I began using the fingers of my
left hand to spread my pussy lips as wide as I could and I stroked my
clitoris with my right hand until my young body was wracked by multiple
orgasms.  I came to realize (pardon the pun) right then that sex was not
the dirty thing Momma had always lectured me about but rather something
special.  Furthermore, I had discovered the joys of sucking dicks.

   I can still remember the taste and the immensity of Blackie's cock. 
Though it stretched my lips almost to the point of pain, I actually found
those feelings to be quite pleasurable.  Prior to this, I had sucked the
dicks of a few boys from the neighborhood, but they were young kids like I
was and their size just couldn't compare to the big, hard cocks of these
fully grown men.  It was at that moment I realized the control I was soon
to exercise over these trifling men who thought I feared them, when in
reality they would eventually learn to fear me.

   I set up a few ground-rules from the get-go.  The first one was they
were never to let on to anyone about our arrangement; I figured this was
for their own protection, as well as my reputation.  I knew the last thing
they wanted was to wind up in jail for contributing to the delinquency of a
minor and I sure didn't need a prostitution rap.  I also made both of them
shave their penis shafts; Old Bob squawked a bit about this but I informed
him that this was non-negotiable.  Blackie was most obliging and later told
me that the sensations were heightened for him after all the hair was
removed from his cock-shaft.  Even today, I simply cannot stand to get a
mouthful of pubic hair.  Call me crazy...

   After this, I began to visit their trailers on a regular basis, telling
Momma I was cleaning for them.  She seemed happy enough, now I that had my
own money.  She even suggested I put some away for college, which I did.

   So for the rest of that summer those two (and yes, later on there were
others) made use of me, as I did of them.  As they were none the wiser that
I was truly enjoying what I was doing, they continued to pony up the twenty
dollars each time and would often give me cigarettes, weed, and liquor of
all sorts in addition to the standard payments.

   As time passed, I quickly learned their likes and dislikes.  For
example, old Bob could only truly get hard if I let on that I was scared of
him and what he might do.  Since I thought it very boring to suck his
frequently flaccid penis, I played to his little fantasy most often as it
made the sucking easier and more enjoyable to me.

   Blackie's (Mr.  Howard) dick was so large (as big around as a beer can)
and long (11 inches) that I quickly had to learn to relax my throat muscles
and overcome my gag reflex so I could deep-throat him.  If I concentrated,
I could isolate my throat muscles and milk his cock like a cow's teat. 
When I did this, he would shoot great gushers of cum into my gullet.  I
often left his trailer with a bellyful of sperm, a pocketful of twenties
and sore jaw muscles, but I liked it.  Or rather, I loved it.

   Whew, memories are funny animals...

   After I came the fifth time, I realized just how much time had elapsed
during my reveries.  I wiped my ass and jumped in the shower, washed my
hair, brushed my teeth and headed out the door to Jake's trailer for some
fun and games.  I think you'll like reading his version of what happened on
our next get together.

   Until next time, faithful readers...
   Copyright Bongfuel 2003 For Individual Use Only