Author’s Foreword: This one came to me in the middle of the night as I tossed, turned, and whined to the ceiling as to why blissful oblivion continue to evade me. I knew that the first draft was rough but it turned out to be such a shit sandwich that I needed two editors to get it to the point of publishing.

shadysweet did a great job on a first pass edit, with a few sentences in the draft so far from coherent, all they could offer was, “Awkward. Rework.” Haha! Love it — thanks, ss! But my Kynhalis sees EVERYTHING — lots of obscure and difficult to find and fix stuff just falls before their mighty editing fu. Kiss kiss, K!

—–

For the last hour, I had been debating whether to text her. There were so many reasons not to, but only a handful of good ones. Okay, only one good one — that I was Horny as fuck. I unlocked my phone, copied her number from my friend’s text, switched apps, and typed out a few texts to her:

ME: Hey, Sophie. Jesse gave me your number. He seemed to think we might be wired the same way and able to help each other out.

ME: You think you can help me out?

I locked my phone and tossed it on the desk. From what I had been told, I guessed that I wouldn’t hear back from her until late tonight, giving me at least six hours to second guess my thinking and reflect on how this situation came to present itself in the first place.

—–

THE PREVIOUS DAY…

My phone buzzed on the desk in front of me. My best friend’s name showed on the screen. I picked up and answered before the second ring.

“Calling me in the middle of the after-damned-noon? What’s the emergency?”

“Dude, whenever I need advice, I have to call the master.” He paused, and when I didn’t bite, he continued excitedly with, “So I’m calling the master!”

Having absolutely no idea what he was talking about, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “OK, man, the master is IN! Now, what the hell are you going on about?”

“Okay, so I went out running before lunch. I was just running along Midway, zoned out with my earbuds when this car passes by and screeches to a halt thirty feet in front of me. This masked chick sticks her head out of the window and starts trying to talk to me. So, I run over to the window and lean in and talk to her because I think she’s asking for directions or something.

“But she says, ‘I think you’re fine as hell, and I just want to suck you off right here and now!’ Then she grabs my dick and starts to rub it through my shorts!”

I rolled my eyes and tried my best to suppress the groan threatening to escape my throat. He has always been oblivious of the effect he has on women. He runs a lot and is in excellent shape, but there has just always been something about him I can’t explain that makes women do silly stuff like this for him. I suppressed these thoughts as I could tell he was having a crisis of some sort that we needed to work through. If nothing else, this promised to be entertaining.

Sensing it was my turn to speak, I teed him up for more with, “Yup, this feels like the part where I ask, ‘Then what happened?’ Did you let her suck you off?” I left off the “…like I would have.”

“Hell no, man, I was too surprised. I mean, I was tempted, but the backseat was full of boxes and who can get comfortable in the front seat with all those gear levers and shit in the way? She just kept telling me I was Hot, that she was a dirty fucking slut, and that she just wanted to bring me off right there with her mouth.

“But I did get her number!”

Ahh, money!

Now, I guffawed into the phone. “That’s fucking awesome, dude. But I’m lost as to what ‘The Master’ can do for you here! I’ve never had a girl drive up and offer to blow me, so this isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse. Was she Hot?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t really tell because she had a mask on. And it was so sudden that a lot of it is kind of a blur. She was probably mid-forties with a pretty nice-looking body. She grabbed my hands, put them right on her tits, and said, ‘Here, feel!’ and they were pretty damned nice, but I’m a tit guy — all tits feel nice to me. You’re supposed to tell me with to do with all this?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, I can’t tell you what you should do. I can only tell you what I would do and why. I would text her to pick me up tomorrow in the same spot…and I would fuck her face until I came right down her throat and filled up her stomach.” Saying it aloud made my pulse quicken. “If nothing else, this is one of those sexual experiences that never really happen to anyone, so when it happens to you, you look for reasons to say ‘Yes,’ not reasons to say ‘No.'”

“Fuck! I don’t know, man. I’m really not that into blowjobs. I mean, they’re a good warmup, but not as the main event.”

I interrupted, not wanting to give him an opportunity to get going, “Look, if I can suggest anything, it would be to play with her on text and phone and think about it.” And like an idiot, I couldn’t help but try to turn this to my advantage, so I added, “If nothing else, see if she has a friend who wants to play doubles.”

—–

About an hour later, he sent a screenshot of a text exchange with a woman he listed as “Sophie.” It had a picture of an incredibly built woman — one with a figure that would be described as both fit and voluptuous –on all fours taken from behind so her face wasn’t visible, obscured by a mane of curly red hair. The next text under the picture was from her, saying, “This is how us married women really get their needs met.”

HIM: SHIT!

ME: Worried? Or not attracted?

ME: Everything there looks pretty impressive to me.

ME: What’s wrong with an NSA or FWB situation? She seems to know what she’s doing. You’ll definitely learn something from it, no doubt in my mind.

HIM: Just concerned about yet another married woman.

HIM: We also talked on the phone a few minutes ago. She is a dirty talker. Definitely your type.

HIM: She made herself cum and then asked if we could meet up early tomorrow morning in the same place.

ME: Yeah, start that day out right!

HIM: Dude, you’re going to end up fucking this woman.

ME: Sure, I’ll fuck her. But I’ll fuck anything at this point. Lol.

ME: You’re going to make that woman weep. She’ll be hurting for more of that dick.

ME: So excited for you! What an awesome experience!

—–

He called early the next morning, opening with, “She’s picking me up me up at 8:45. She just told me that she’s already sucked a dick off for breakfast and needs more. Holy shit!”

My mind shifted to how to make sure this didn’t go bad. “Send me a pin where you’re going to be. If I haven’t heard from you by 9:30, I’m going to send the dogs looking for you.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” he replied. “She sent pics of her tits and Pussy, and they look really nice, but she said she didn’t want me getting handsy this time. She just wants to drain me.”

—–

Soon after, though, his plans went to shit. At 8:30, he sent me texts saying that he just got an invite for a mandatory 9:00 am work meeting and that he just sent Sophie a note that he wouldn’t be able to make it. Right after 10:00, he called and told me that she was pissed at being stood up: “I told her that my boss called a meeting I couldn’t have gotten out of. She said, ‘Well, do I need to suck your boss off so you can get out of these things and let me blow you?’ I had to make her repeat that because I was sure I heard it wrong.”

He laughed, continuing, “Fuck, she’s nasty. I told her that I didn’t know if my boss would be into it, but I did have a friend that would be. She asked a few questions about you and got Horny from the answers. She’s down to suck and fuck and is waiting for you to text her. She knows me as ‘Jesse,’ so be sure to use that name with her.”

After we hung up with each other, I got a single text with a single phone number in it. For the next six hours, I tried to stay focused on work but failed miserably. All I could think about was a dirty talking fuck slut with whom I could empty my balls using her whore throat. I kept my cool until 4:00 pm and then I sent her those two texts asking if she could “help me out.” It wasn’t until 11:00 that night that I got a reply from her:

HER: I can definitely help!

I responded immediately.

ME: Let me know if you’re up for a play date tomorrow morning.

My phone rang. As soon as I picked up, she said, “Tell me I’m a dirty whore.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, I growled out, “You’re a dirty whore.” Immediately, I could feel that this statement had the force leaving my mouth and hitting her ear like a throbbing hard cock pushed forcefully into a wet and willing mouth. She moaned loudly. This was me in my element, and if she wanted to play this game, she had found an expert partner.

“You’re a filthy bitch who is going to drain the cum out of my balls with your slutty little throat tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she moaned softly. “Yes, I am. And yes, I will.” My balls tightened, and my cock swelled in my pants at the thought of her mouth and throat submitting to my engorged member and my most animalistic urges.

After a brief discussion of the details for an early morning rendezvous, she abruptly changed the subject back with, “Tell me I’m a slut again!”

I spit out each word with such force that the intent couldn’t be missed, “You’re a filthy disgusting slut, and I’m going to use you as my cum dumpster! You know you’re a nasty fucking whore, so why make me say it?”

She moaned. I could hear a vibrator. “God, I hope you’re real,” she whispered.

“I’m real,” I said firmly. “And you’re going to feel how real in a few hours. Get some sleep and be ready for my stiff dick getting forced down your whorish throat.”

She moaned again and this time, it was a long, drawn-out one that I assumed meant I was hearing her Orgasm.

“Send me a picture,” she said softly and then hung up.

I managed the best selfie I could in my night clothes and shot it off to her.

—–

It was just after midnight by this time, so I climbed into bed and turned out the light, but I was too excited about thoughts of what was soon to happen. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to get any sleep, and I went right on having that feeling for the next five hours, continuously tossing and turning and turning and tossing. By 5:00 am, I was done trying to sleep as it was time to get up and start the drive. My cock had stayed stiff the whole time.

I threw on some running shorts that I knew would be easy to drop and pull up. On the way out the door, I grabbed my keys, wallet, and phone, shooting a text off to her:

ME: My cock has been dripping pre-cum since we talked. I need my disgusting bitch to milk the spunk out of my dick with her Hot, wet, and willing mouth. Be ready for me at 6.

Then, I switched over to text my friend, so that somebody would know what was happening with me in case something went wrong:

ME: We connected. She’s Hot to trot. I have exactly the kind of potty mouth she wants, it seems.

ME: I’m off to pick her up here at 6…

I dropped a pin on the map and sent it to his phone. What I was worried about exactly, I couldn’t say, but this was far enough outside the realm of normal that I wasn’t assuming everything was going to be rainbows and unicorns. I could get robbed. Or assaulted. Or carjacked. Now, he would know where I’d be, when I’d be there, and who I’d be with. For my part, I only brought my keys, my driver’s license, a $20 bill, and a condom, the latter things went further and even better than presently planned — a rare rainbows and unicorns moment of hopefulness making an appearance in my thinking at that moment.

After climbing in my car, I started it up, pulled out of the driveway, and headed out to find my Blowjob Queen.

We had arranged an early rendezvous across town: she’d be waiting at a darkened bus stop at 6:00 am, at least 30 minutes before the sky would be starting to brighten. The drive was uneventful, and though I arrived early, she was right where she said she’d be. I pulled up beside the bus stop and rolled down the passenger side window.

“Sophie?” I asked of the faintly illuminated silhouette. As she stood up, I saw pale, slender legs extending from under a loosely fitting, light-colored flowing skirt. A maroon hoodie completely covered her medium build and was pulled over her head. A disposable surgical mask covered her face. She approached, and I could see a hint of green in her eyes as she spoke my name. I unlocked the door for her. Once she was safely inside, I pulled away from the curb, blissfully unmolested by any traffic on this side street.

“Turn in here, and you can park right under that tree,” she motioned to a few parking spots completely shadowed from any light and facing the side street we were just on but partially obscured by sporadic hedges. In short, it was a great spot to see but not be seen. I pulled in and shut off the engine. Her hands were caressing my cock through my shorts in an instant.

She started to bend over the center console, zeroing in on my crotch. I stopped her with, “Let’s get in the back, so we have more room.”

We both exited the car and arrived in the back seat at the same time. I stood up as best as I could and reached over the front seat to lock the doors, feeling her caress my Ass as I did so. Before I sat back down, I pulled my shorts and underwear down around my ankles in one swift motion. I looked at her again but could see nothing more than the clothes and an outline of her figure. The hood was still over her head and the mask, still on. The fingers of one hand traced lightly over my limp cock.

Again, I heard her say the familiar words, “Tell me I’m a dirty whore.”

Not wanting to start slow, I grabbed the back of her head and forcefully pulled her face onto my flaccid member. She flipped the mask under her chin and engulfed me in her mouth’s warm embrace. I held her head against me firmly. Her tongue darted around various locations on my cock, and I started to swell from the sensation.

“You’re a dirty fucking whore! Now, show me what that slutty mouth can do.”

I released my grip on her head to let her do her job, and she did it well, bobbing up and down the length of my seven thick inches with a quick rhythm. It was nice that she took the hint on getting to the job at hand. I slumped down in the seat so I could better see her lips stretching to accommodate my girth.

It felt incredible, but it started to bother me that she was deepthroating my entire length with every stroke and not gagging at all. My cock was completely slickened with her spit. I could feel it coating my balls and dribbling toward my asshole. And I could hear very wet noises emanating from her mouth and throat, but she hadn’t gagged once. The thought triggered something primal in me. Something I tended to shy away from embracing. Something forceful. Something aggressive. Something dominating.

No longer shying away from whatever it was, I placed my hands on either side of her face and started to fuck her mouth like she was a toy, not a woman. I thrust fast, deep, and hard and pulled her head up and down on me in unison. After 10 or 15 seconds of trying to hurt her, I simply thrust as deep as I could, pulled her mouth to me as forcibly as I could manage, and just held her there. She gagged. I got what I wanted but immediately regretted it. I released her head.

“I’m sorry, girl,” I whispered.

She coughed once, swallowed, and then immediately throated me again. When she came up for air, she said, “Don’t be. I loved it. Do it again and cum for me this time.”

I wasn’t ready to cum after one more round of this. I wasn’t yet ready even after two more rounds. It felt amazing, but I didn’t have enough control of her and the situation to bring me off, so I got up from the seat and turned around. I made her lay on her side with her head against the seat. I held her head down and pushed my cock in and out of her mouth repeatedly. Every few thrusts, I’d bury my entire length in her throat and feel her gag. Finally, it started really affecting me. When I got close, I pulled my cock from its warm place and let her catch her breath.

After a few seconds of her heaving and coughing, she spit out with venomous intensity, “Do it, you fucker!”

I quickly buried my entire length deep into her throat. One hand pushed her head into the seat and the other held her throat, just under her jaw. With that hand, I could feel the tip of my cock inside of her as it moved. I didn’t pump in and out of her mouth as much as I just ground my cock into her, thrusting, thrusting, and thrusting until…

I roared as I came a torrent down her tight throat and straight into her stomach. I couldn’t tell if she was gagging. I didn’t care. I probably shot ten ropes of spunk into her throat until I could relax enough to release my grip on her. I sat on my heels and leaned against the back of the driver’s seat. If I was worried I was too rough with her, I needn’t have been.

“Mmmm, thanks for the big, yummy load, stud. I needed that.”

She had pulled the mask back up as soon as my cock left her mouth. I could guess from her eyes that she was smiling, but the mask made it impossible to be sure. After a pause, she pulled herself up off the seat, yanked the mask down, and kissed me. It was a sweet, tender, deep, and salty kiss. When she pulled away, I registered both the wisp of a smile and a beautiful face ever so briefly before she pulled the mask back up, got out of the car, and closed the door behind her.

She never looked back or returned my texts, and I never saw her again.