Page 21 of The Fed Sex Man

He grinned a half-assed grin. It was the same odd smirk that preceded every blowjob I’d given. Male-speak, I guessed, for “suck my dick, please”.

I accepted my cue and guided the tip of his cock in my mouth. Upon tasting his salty pre-ejaculatory fluid, my eyes fell closed. A few practice strokes followed. Then, I eagerly took half his length into my throat.

“Jesus. Fuck,” he exclaimed. “Stop.”

Reluctantly, I slid my mouth free of his rigid shaft and opened my eyes. A strand of saliva draped from the tip of his dick to my lower lip. I collected it with my index finger and then met his wide-eyed stare.

I sucked the mixture of pre-cum and saliva from my fingertip. “What’s wrong?”

He pressed the heels of his palms against his temples. “I need to get ready.”

“For what?”

“To have you suck me stupid, I guess.”

Sucking a man’s dick was like auditioning for the lead role in a Hollywood movie. If I played the role to a T, I’d get the part. If I faltered or didn’t give it my best, I’d remain unemployed. I’d been out of a job long enough. I needed long-term employment.

“Would it be better if I let you drive?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You can fuck my mouth if you want,” I deadpanned. “Just grab ahold of my head and pound away.”

“Are you--” He wiped his brow with the web of his hand. “Are you serious?”

His cock swung from side to side as he spoke. A glistening droplet of pre-cum clung to the tip, threatening to drip free with every breath he took. I encompassed the swollen head with my lips and sucked it free of the bitterly sweet substance.

The head of his dick resting against the tip of my tongue. With an open mouth and inquisitive eyes, he waited for me to respond. Holding his gaze, I sucked the tip one more time for good measure and then flashed a smile.

“Yes,” I responded. “I am.”

He swallowed heavily. After a short pause, he gripped the sides of my head with his hands. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I’m on my knees with an open mouth,” I said. “What do you want, a written invitation?”

Without further provocation, he rowed his hips back and forth slowly, forcing half of his rock-hard shaft into my mouth with each stroke. After receiving no complaints on my part, his thrusts became more aggressive.

Within a few seconds, he was engaged in a full-fledged face fucking.

The satisfaction of having a man’s cock in my throat was difficult to explain. During the act, I felt helpless and at the mercy of my partner. Upon bringing my partner to climax, I felt powerful and in charge. The strange mixture of feelings made the act extremely satisfying.

I held his gaze as he pounded his thick length in and out of my throat. The smell of his sweet cologne merged with the musky odor of sweat and sex. Floating on a cloud of hope, I eagerly accepted the punishment, optimistic that I’d satisfy him enough to bring him to climax.

His eyes glistened with satisfaction, leaving little doubt that he was in heaven.

I, too, was lost in a blissful state. My nipples ached. My pussy throbbed. I hoped he wanted to have sex with me, but even more so, I wanted to please him with my oral abilities. I gripped his thighs tightly in my hands, knowing I was mere strokes away from needing to draw a breath.

His cock swelled.

The sound of his labored breathing gave hint to what was next.

I pressed my tongue against the base of his rigid shaft and lifted my chin slightly, allowing him free access to my willing throat. Several aggressive full-length strokes followed. Then, he paused, gazed into my eyes, and gave one last balls-deep thrust.

His demonic cry of pleasure echoed off the walls of his living room. His thick cock pulsed as the warm reward erupted in my throat. Satisfied beyond measure, I remained motionless, waiting for him to recover.

He released my head from his grasp and retracted his hips. “Holyfuckingshitthatwasawesome.”

After sucking a breath, I wiped the corners of my mouth with the pad of my thumb.

His flaccid cock hung heavily between his legs – a reminder that our night’s journey, sexually speaking, was over.

I looked up. His face was covered with his hands. While I caught my breath, I relished in the thought of satisfying him enough to bring him to climax.

He lowered his hands and met my gaze. “That was fucking amazing,” he breathed.

“I thought so, too,” I responded.

“Can we do this again?” he asked.

Bringing him to climax suggested that he was pleased with what I offered him. Having him verbally express his pleasure, however, made his thoughts crystal clear. Before I had a chance to respond, he continued.

“Not this,” he stammered. “I mean see you again. I’d like to see you again.”

With those spoken words, I received the part I’d auditioned for. Filled with pride, I stood and smiled. “I’d love to.”