CHAPTER 6

I sucked it slowly, savoring the texture, not letting it get ahead of me. I was developing a spectacular buzz emanating from my love button, spreading in a warm wave through my loins. My finger was starting to distinguish different features of my clit: a sensitive shaft that I had to be gentle with, a hood I could rub vigorously, and a shy tip that would get real sensitive if I tickled it tenderly, then would deliver jolts of pure joy right through me.

I was determined to climax with this cock before it was spent. I tried to focus on myself, to get there first, but my mouth wanted to taste this new cock's excitement too much. It was like an electric circuit. The more jazz the cock felt in my mouth, the more jazzed-up my girl parts got.

I got on my knees on the black wooden floor and used both hands to get myself off, one rubbing my clit, the other teasing my pussy lips at the rim of my opening. As the feeling built, I thrust my mouth onto that beautiful, delicious cock again and again, fucking it with my face, as deep as I could. I could feel it swelling, the skin getting tighter. I tasted the precum just as I crested the wave of pleasure coming out of my twat, and when the dam burst at last and spasms of sweet release flooded me from the center of my little universe, the cock in my mouth erupted, spurting cum like a hose, into my mouth, down my throat, spilling out onto my face, running down my chin. It was like coming home.

As I rode the wave of excruciating erotic joy, I felt for the first time that I was drawing almost as much pleasure from the cock as from my girl stuff. The cum wasn't actually sweet, but it was heady. It was good. I was hungry for it and I sucked it up greedily.

That was the moment I truly became a cum slut, sucking and serving that anonymous cock, worshiping it with my tongue and lips, savoring the semen that I licked off the shaft and sucked from the head. I knew that from that day on, for the rest of my life, even as a toothless granny, I would want to suck cock and taste cum shooting out of it—not just to help me reach my own orgasm, but for its own sweet sake.

I used the kleenex to mop up the spilled semen, zipped up, and staggered out onto the street in an erotic daze, barely remembering to grab my daypack at the counter. I never went dildo shopping again, but I did visit my friendly neighborhood glory hole every chance I got for the rest of the summer.

By the last few weeks of my Magic Summer, I had a routine at the bookstore. I'd stroll in, nod at the guy behind the counter, and head down to booth twelve, daypack and all. Some of the regulars would follow me into the back, semi-discreetly—I mean, not actually shoving or tripping over each other. Guy discreet, you know?

I'd lock the door, drop trou, take a bottle of oil from my daypack and spread it on my happy parts, so I wouldn't rub myself raw over the next hour or two, and by then there would be scratching on both walls and I'd be open up. The booth was small enough to let me use both holes at once. Both glory holes, that is. My personal love hole and my bung hole were still virginal, thank you. Only my mouth was open to the public. But that hole was wide open.

I'd open both glory holes and watch in satisfaction as the first two pricks of the day came through the walls. I was familiar with most of them by now, but there was almost always at least one new cock sometime during my suck-a-thon.

Sometimes the dicks emerged already fully erect, particularly the ones I knew well, as if they were anxiously awaiting reacquaintance with my oral pleasure palace. Others were at half mast, until I started giving them my attention. I would take one in each hand and pump them up as needed, until they were both good and stiff. I liked the heft and feel of them. I enjoyed the look of their veiny shafts and round heads, so different, yet so alike, all of them hard and wanting release.

Then I'd settle into a squat, with one hand dipping into my personal playground, and I'd alternate a while—sucking one cock while pumping the other with my free hand, going back and forth, tasting and fondling, until I started to get that good feeling from Happy Valley.

Then I'd choose one cock to focus on and give it my undivided head, bobbing, sucking, swirling, licking, enjoying the way the pressure built as it approached orgasm. I like to take my time with my own orgasm now. There were plenty of cocks. I'd casually keep the other cock in play with my free hand while I sucked my chosen dick, working it into a frenzy. Soon I'd feel it swell in my mouth, oozing precum.

As often as not, when the first cock boiled over and started squirting warm bursts of cum into my mouth, I'd have a little ' myself. Just a warm up. The cum all tasted different. A few guys' tasted nasty, and I'd spit them into a kleenex, but most were okay or actually good, and I gobbled them up, sucking hard on the dicks while they came so I could get it all.

I always felt a little sad to see them pull back into the wall, soft and flaccid, but I also got a little feeling of satisfaction, of accomplishment.

Man, it was nice to have another cock in my hand, already set to go, especially if I was building toward a big climax. I could fill my mouth and start sucking another dick with no delay, fresh sperm still on my tastebuds, keeping my female mojo going uninterrupted until I clenched and came. Nine times out of ten, when I came, the cock in my mouth would erupt too, no matter how long or short a suck I had given it. Girl power!