Natural Born Cocksucker (Part Two)

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This piece is part of a series:

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

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In the days after giving her first ever blowjob, Chloe couldn’t stop thinking about it. She replayed the experience in her head over and over again, focussing on a different detail each time she did: how it had felt to have her mouth so full of another human being. The sense of sudden constriction when she gagged. The way his cock had slipped, wet and sleek, out of her mouth on the occasions when she did choke. The way her lips had felt ever-so-slightly numb and tingly afterwards.

She wanted to remember everything. To fix it in her mind. And it wasn’t just the minutes during which she was on her knees that she wished to record, but everything on either side: how her knees had been sore the next morning. How her throat had felt thick and slick for hours afterwards. How, late that night when she fell into bed, she momentarily caught a taste of the boy’s come once again, and the mere ghost of it made her pussy twitch.

For a week afterwards, whenever she masturbated, it would be to thoughts of the blowjob. It would be pointless to think about anything else. The things she had done with her boyfriend felt rather silly and amateurish now. They were faint and faraway – experiences from a previous life. Whereas the blowjob…

The blowjob was immediate. Intense. Full colour. It was everything. It was close enough that she could almost feel the ghosts of each sensation as she remembered them.

It was, she decided very quickly, an experience she definitely needed to repeat.

It wasn’t that she wanted to. No – this was more definite. A biological need; a kind of sharp, constant tug behind her ribs. She found herself thinking about it so constantly that she felt sure she’d go insane if she didn’t get to do it again. It was a drive that felt to Chloe every bit as vital as hunger.

The question was… how was she going to do it again?

She couldn’t remember The Boy’s name. And, thinking back, she found it maddeningly hard to describe him. She remembered quite adequately the thick fullness of his cock and the taste of his come, and the way his hands had felt when he put them on her shoulders. But what colour had his eyes been? How tall was he? Did he say he was a student, or had he been someone’s friend from outside of uni?

She thought about asking her friends if they knew The Boy… but the chances that they would seemed slim at best. And she had a feeling that asking for the name of a boy she met at the party would only lead to questions she didn’t want to answer.

So what other options did she have?

She could find another boy. Someone to practise on. It shouldn’t be too hard, should it? Boys loved to have their cocks sucked. And she was fairly sure that the campus nightclub was full of guys who would take her up on the offer. Especially if they’d had a few drinks and she just went up to them and asked. It should be simple.

But it wasn’t simple. Because Chloe had never just walked up to a boy and propositioned him before… and the mere idea of doing so felt utterly terrifying for no reason she could adequately define.

For a while she toyed with the idea. And then, realising that it was unlikely she’d pluck up the courage to act on it anytime soon, she changed plans, and ordered a dildo on the internet.

*

There were, she found, quite an extraordinary number to choose from. They were available in all different sizes and colours. Different materials, different shapes. Some had balls. Some did not. Some came with a sucker at the base so that they could be attached to a wall. Some were modelled on real men, and some were designed to look the outsize members of dragons or werewolves.

It was a realistic one which Chloe eventually chose. An eight-inch thick and veiny cock with balls and a suction cup. Pretty much everything about it turned her on. There was the fact that it was absurdly girthy. The fact that it came with such unnecessary detail – the balls and the veins and the little divot under the head. Even the image of it on the website – a body-less cock isolated on a white background – made her feel a little throb in her cunt.

She paid for expedited shipping, and it arrived the next day. She picked it up from the campus post office – an innocuous package that thumped dully whenever she turned it over. It was lighter than she’d expected. Chloe had never handled a dildo before, but given how thick it had looked on the website she had certainly expected it to be heavy.

Back in her halls bedroom, she used the tip of a pen to slice the parcel tape on the package. Within the plain brown outer box was another cardboard carton – this one rather more garish. She hacked open the tape on this as well.

As she wrestled with the packaging, Chloe realised that she was actually breathless with excitement. Her fingers were clumsy, her heart beating quick and strong. And all over… what… a dildo? A lifeless toy?

It was silly… but at the same time she felt a little like she had felt when she was kneeling on the floor of that bathroom at the party, watching The Boy undo his belt, knowing but not really knowing what was coming next.

Finally, she got the box opened, and tipped out the dildo within onto the bed. It landed with a hefty thud, bouncing once. Chloe stared at it, her stomach fluttering with something like awe: it was big. Bigger than she’d expected. And it was obscene. Erect, stiff, heavy, veiny. Just lying there on her bed, there for her to take.

It wasn’t the sight of it that shocked her, but rather just how much the sight of it turned her on.

She knew that she was supposed to wash it before she used it. Indeed, doing so would probably help take care of the faint rubbery smell she detected when she picked it up. But washing it would mean waiting. She would have to sneak it to the shared halls bathroom, lock herself in, lather it up, rinse it off, wait for it to dry.

It would take several minutes, and several minutes felt like far too long to wait.

And so, without any further ceremony, Chloe dropped to her knees, grasped the silicone cock in both hands, and jammed it into her mouth.

She didn’t have to kneel, of course – she could have just brought the toy to her mouth – but somehow being on her knees felt right. It was part of it. Being low down, at cock level. Knees spread, back arched. Being on her knees made things feel tight in all the right places. Her underwear pulled between her legs in a sweetly delicious way. And if she shut her eyes, she thought, it would be all the easier to imagine herself back in the bathroom, kneeling on the floor in front of The Boy, opening her mouth to…

A shiver went through her. Just thinking about it made a frisson go through her. Just thinking the phrase: opening my mouth to suck his cock.

And that was exactly what she was doing. She was on her knees, mouth open, lips wrapped around the shaft of the toy, pushing it into her mouth. How much had she gotten inside her? It felt like a lot. The taste of silicone filled her mouth: rubbery and smooth and artificial. She wrapped her lips around it, grunting at the stretch. She squeezed the shaft in her hands…

And there it was. The feeling from before. That swooping, excited, breathless feeling. Not as intense as when she’d first felt it, but definitely the same. She whimpered as it coursed through her. It felt good to whimper.

Taking a firm grip on the base of the dildo, she pumped it in and out of her mouth – rather gently at first, but harder and deeper as she thought about how a boy would do it. A boy would really ram his cock in there. He’d push nice and hard, wanting to get so much of it in that her nose was practically buried in his pubic hair. He’s want to feel it snugging nice and tightly into the back of her throat, so that when she gagged he’d feel every little spasmic movement of her throat.

She couldn’t quite get it to the back of her throat. Maybe it was too big and unyielding… or maybe it was just hard to make yourself gag in the same way that it was hard to slap yourself in the face. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She worked it in and out of her mouth, pressing her tongue into it from all angles.

After a minute of urgent, shivery sucking she let it slip out of her mouth. She was painfully turned on. She opened her eyes. Her ordinary little bedroom surrounded her. She was alone. Just her and a silicone cock, the head of which was now wet with her spit. The sight of it sent another compulsive shudder through her, and with a groan she rammed the thing back into her mouth.

Chloe quickly found the best way to do it. She held the base of the dildo in one hand, her fingers wrapped around the balls, the suction cup glommed to her palm. Without her fist wrapped around the shaft it was pleasantly pliant – rigid but just a little floppy, like a real dick. And she could push quite hard from that position, ramming it home like a boy would do with his real cock.

Her other hand, meanwhile, was in her panties. Two fingers inside her, crooked gently to find the rough little spot that made her feel like she was melting when she stroked it, her palm pressing hard into her pubic bone, her clit.

It didn’t take long for her to come. Seconds only. And as her body pulled inward, her mind blanking, her breath hitching in her chest, she found herself pushing the dildo that little bit further into her mouth, so that she could feel a wonderful sort of constrictive crushing sensation at the back of her throat, and her chest tightened too, and she hovered on the edge of gagging, right on the edge, as the first all-consuming wave of pleasure rolled through her body.

Chloe came with the dildo in her mouth, moaning quietly around it, her tongue nestled into the divot under the fake cock’s head.

Several minutes later, she came a second time while lying on her side on her bed, her hand still in her panties, the dildo still in her mouth, working it in and out of her mouth in a series of long, deep strokes.

And sometime after that, she came a third time, several minutes later, lying on her back with the dildo in her mouth, imagining that a boy was straddling her, and fucking straight down into her mouth, pinning her between him and the bed beneath her so that there was no way she could do anything but lie there helpless and take his cock.

*

Over the course of the next week, Chloe masturbated a lot. She did so intensely, in sessions that lasted at least an hour each time. Whereas with her old boyfriend she had felt exhausted and bored and sore after just ten minutes, she found that she never really tired of sucking the dildo.

Well, that wasn’t accurate – she did get tired. After a long session her jaw ached, and so did her fingers, and her throat was sore and her chest hurt from gagging and she felt rather nauseous. But, weirdly, none of those things made her want to stop. Instead they simply turned her on all the more.

Likewise, Chloe thought, the fact that it was kind of embarrassing also made it all the better.

Whenever she spent time masturbating with the dildo she had to double- and triple-check that the door of her little halls bedroom was locked. Not that any of her flatmates were in the habit of just barging in… but the thought of them doing so while she was enjoying the dildo was mortifying. It would be nowhere near as bad, Chloe reflected, should they walk in on her fucking herself with the dildo. That was, after all, more or less what you were supposed to do with it.

But if they wandered in to find her bent over her bed, back arched, eyes shut, ramming the dildo into her mouth while she frigged herself furiously with her other hand… that would somehow be rather more shameful. Chloe burned with embarrassment just thinking about it.

In order to keep her new masturbatory rituals a secret, she started playing loud music on her laptop while she touched herself. She’d put the volume up as high as she could to cover any sounds she might make… which was necessary because she’d discovered that she really, really liked making noise.

There was, of course, the wet sucking noises that the dildo made when she worked it in and out of her mouth – especially once she’d gotten everything nice and lathered with spit. Those noises turned her on with their wet, biological indecency. Their ugly, squishy wetness.

But, in addition to this, she also liked to grunt. Grunting with a mouthful of silicone cock was a pleasure all its own. It made the thing feel different in her mouth. And it made her feel different, when she could hear herself sucking and grunting. It was, in part, the same reason she always started out kneeling on the floor. It felt right to be down there, drooling and grunting, dirty and animal.

And, once she was very worked up, she also liked to say things. Or try to say things. She would, at the peak of her excitement, squeeze her eyes tight shut, let the dildo pop out of her mouth, and whisper just loud enough for herself to hear, “You can come in my mouth.”

That was one of her favourite things to hear herself say, and to imagine herself saying to an imaginary boy standing over her. She tried plenty of other utterances, though. “You can go harder. I can take it,” and, “I want to feel it in my throat,” and “Is that good? Does that feel good?” and, “Push my head down. Please. Really hard. Make me take it.”

Silly things. Things she would never be able to say to a real, actual boy whose cock she was sucking, but things which made her heart beat as fast as if she’d just downed a shot of coffee. In fact, the more dumb and porny the things she came up with, the more exciting it seemed to be for her.

Sometimes she found that the desire to hear herself saying something dirty and the desire to have as much of the silicone cock in her mouth as she possibly could overrode one another. She would let the dildo pop out of her mouth and start whimpering one of her favourite lines – you can come in my mouth, please come in my mouth – only, with a lurch or arousal, to ram the dildo straight back in, as deep as she could manage, before she’d even got the words out.

Of course, it was a thoroughly messy process. She managed to keep from drooling at first, but after a quarter hour on her knees or curled up on the bed, alternately fellating the dildo and thrusting it into her face there was spit everywhere. A big patch on her bedsheets, a veil of it on her chin and cheeks. Sometimes even a string of spit that dangled between her mouth and the end of the dildo in a heavy, swinging arc.

The mess. The grunting. The things she could say. The feel of the dildo, firm and unyielding as it quested for the back of her throat. The perversion of the whole process. It all turned Chloe on so much that she came at least three or four or five times during each session. That was more than she’d ever been able to come when masturbating before… and infinitely more than she had ever come with her boyfriend, back when he’d been in the picture.

And yet, despite this all, it wasn’t enough. Still, and confusingly, she wanted more.

She wanted a boy to be doing it to her. Thrusting into her mouth because it felt good. Choosing when to push her head down, or grip her hair, or squish his cock into her mouth with his fist. And she wanted it to be a cock – not this sterile stick of silicone, but a living, pulsing, bodyheat cock.

A cock that could, if she did a good job with her mouth, ejaculate.

That was, Chloe often thought to herself, what she wanted most of all. That’s why it felt so good to say it. She wanted a boy to come in her mouth.

Which meant that, sooner or later, and however enjoyable she found practising on a dildo to be, she was going to have to go and find a boy.