The Blowjob Girls: Morning Hunger

It was only 10am and we were already on the prowl, our eyes scanning each passing male that walked down the promenade of the local mall. This early, the only carriers of the XY genes were either old men or young boys, neither of which appealed to our somewhat open tastes in the opposite sex.

'On the prowl,' Jesus Christ that sounds bad, like the two of us are a couple of nympho sluts that love nothing more than getting gangbanged at the drop of a pin. I've always considered the term 'slut' to involve promiscuous sex on an obsessive scale, yet Tash and I could count on a single hand how many dicks have entered our pussies. Not that we're averse to riding the odd cock, we just save that particular sexual experience for either a special guy or a special occasion.

We have, however, racked up the total number of blowjobs into the hundreds, if not thousands, since leaving school and entering the world of adulthood. At the tenacious age of twenty apiece, Tash and I have carved a perfect little niche for ourselves in the town of Green Hills, finding our finely turned talents for performing fellatio to be a form of currency unto itself.

"Meg, tell me again why we got out of bed so fucking early – it's Monday and there's no one here!" Tash whined.

"Like we were gonna get anything important done just sitting around in bed all day."

"Maybe I wanted a nice morning fuck from you," she replied casually, coolly. An elderly couple just happened to walk past at this most inopportune moment, their eyes bulging at the obscenity flowing from such a pretty young girl's mouth.

I grinned at Tash, but then apologized to the elderly couple with a shrug. When they were out of earshot I said, "I'm really craving dick this morning."

"You're always craving dick!"

"I know, but this morning I'm really hankering for it. Must be all that chocolate we ate last night, don't they reckon it's a powerful aphrodisiac?"

"I dunno," Tash said, surveying the exposed food court with a three hundred and sixty degree scan. "You're the bookworm, not me. Hey, didn't you want that new bikini from Surfer's Paradise? I think Rob is opening the store today, and we both know he's got a pretty suckable cock."

"Tempting, but I'm after some fresh meat this morning."

Back when tangible currency had revolutionized the world, trade and bartering had been its predecessor. For two years Tash and I have reverted to this dated existence, trading our expert talents giving head for food, shelter and material possessions – lots of material possessions. Our landlord, a rather scrawny fellow who goes by the name of Dave Willis, has, for the previous two years, received two blowjobs per week, and in return he gives us free lodging in the gorgeous apartment building he manages.

We live like queens – albeit cocksucking queens – wanting for nothing we can't purchase with a quick smile, a husky admission of our intentions, and then a quick drop to our knees once the male in question comes to a mutual understanding of how the transaction works.

You see, men can't say no to a blowjob. It's so easy to persuade your way into a man's pants even if he's married with three kids, because all they need to hear is 'a blowjob isn't cheating, sex is' and they'll unzip their flies and flop it out in haste. Most don't even require that.

When it comes to their cocks, men have all the restraint of a heroin addict with a needle in one hand and a piece of rubber tube in the other.

Tash clicked her manicured nails on the wooden tabletop and stared at me with her big brown eyes. Her lips, slick due to the constant application of her apricot lip gloss, curled into a playful smirk that made me tingle downstairs.

Many people, both of the male and female variety, have noted that we look like sisters, and have in fact been mistaken for it on quite a few occasions. This only serves to flatter me on a monumental scale, because Tash is the embodiment of all things sexual and sensual. With long, sleek legs; a tiny waistline; generously sized breasts that beg to be fondled; and a face that can make grown men slobber like little babies, it's no wonder I take it as a huge compliment to be lumped in her league.

"I wish we'd stayed in bed," she pouted. "I'm totally bored."

Each candidate that walked past was either too old, too young or just plain too ugly for me to get down on my knees for. And I was really starting to itch for some action. My right hand yearned to be filled with a nice, stiff penis, and my mouth watered at the thought of swallowing as much as I could take, which was quite a lot with two years of full-time practice up my sleeve.

Waiting for the right guy to walk along could take hours, so I took some initiative and said, "How about we make things interesting." This was our typical opening line for when we wanted to play a game, and upon hearing it Tash transformed from being slouched and disinterested to upright and curious.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well," I replied coyly, flicking my shoulder length hair out of my eyes, "seeing as you won't shut up about not fucking me this morning, how about we use that as the stakes; if I win you have to be my sex slave for the rest of the day, if you win I'll be yours."

Tash licked her shiny lips. It had been a couple of weeks since we'd used that card as collateral in a bet, and judging by the smoldering look in her eyes she desperately wanted me to lose. "And the terms?"

"How about you give me ten minutes to find a guy and suck him off, then get back here with a mouthful of his cum." Just imagining a guy spurting sperm into my mouth made me want to stroke my meowing pussycat.

"Ten? I think you're being a little too generous. Five sounds a bit fairer to me."

"Okay, five minutes."

Since we play games of this caliber on a frequent basis, Tash reached into her handbag and withdrew an electronic stopwatch. It was a small black unit that was attached to a thin nylon cord, which Tash looped around her neck.

"Let the sucking begin," she grinned, and then initiated the countdown on the stopwatch with a click of a button.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^

I wasn't going to win the bet.

This conclusion hadn't been reached via a heretofore untapped reservoir of psychic abilities but more or less because I wasn't in the frame of mind to race against the clock. I wanted to savor the unknown cock I was going to suck, tease it and be as downright naughty and dirty as a girl can get while kneeling on her knees.

Also, I was in a submissive mood and nothing appealed to me more than playing the role of Tash's bitch for the remainder of the day.

So I ambled along main strip slowly and took my sweet time. I dawdled. A few cute guys did cross paths with me – staring first at my unrestricted breasts as they bounced around inside my tight tank top, then at my face, and afterwards I can only assume at my firm round ass as it swished back and forth. Although guys constantly ogle everything from my toes on up, my ass always receives special attention, particularly when it's revealed to the world, as it is today, in my favorite pair of cut-off jeans. The taut material hugs my curvaceous ass cheeks as if it's been painted on, leaving very little to the imagination.

But none of these handsome fellows made my mouth water. That adrenalin-fuelled urge to lunge at them and tear their shorts off never came.

Three, possibly four minutes had ticked by and I was still empty of both hand and mouth. Total frustration hadn't set in yet, but I was getting antsy.

It may appear to most people that Tash and I use our female charms solely for the benefit of maintaining a carefree and jobless lifestyle, only this couldn't be further from the truth. Our hunger for sucking men off drives us, so much so that half the time we obtain nothing more than an anguished moan and a mouthful of sperm for our services. We throw business into the mix with pleasure – not the other way around.

And right now I was scouting for pleasure. Or, more to the point, on a mission to give pleasure to one lucky guy.

My sandal clad feet carried me towards the mall's newest addition, a Classic Movies video store, which had only recently relocated here due to the fire which had destroyed their previous occupancy. As of yet, neither of us had journeyed inside, therefore a question mark hovered over the store's adequacy regarding its male staff members.

It was empty. Customers and employees alike must have fled the moment I stepped foot in the shop, possibly because it was written all over my face that I was going to go down on a guy in public.

"This has gotta be some kind of conspiracy," I muttered.

Rows and rows of DVDs and video tapes were separated by empty space, revealing to me that, after a brief walk from one end to the other, neither male nor female resided within. Where the hell was the clerk? Had a portal opened up Sliders style and sucked him into a parallel universe, albeit one in which there wouldn't be a horny twenty-year-old cocksucker sizing him up for a round of head? Would Fox Mulder walk in with Scully in his wake, flash his FBI credentials, and then hypothesize that aliens, the government or some unknown factor had given him due course to open an X-File down at the local Classic Movies in the Green Hills Mall?

"Can I help you?" asked a soft, quietly spoken voice. It belonged to a man.

I held my breath and turned to locate the owner. Standing behind the service counter, looking a wee bit shy and self-conscious, was a handsome guy in his early twenties, not eyeing me crudely but in a way a man does when he holds a healthy appreciation towards the opposite sex. His face was friendly and slightly tanned, framed by a shock of tousled black hair that fell across his vision whenever he moved his head. His plastic nametag identified him as Ricky.

My sandals slapped loosely against my heels when I walked over to the counter. "I think you can help me," I replied, lacing my words with a hint of a sexual undertone. I strode to the end of the counter and unlatched the waist high door dividing us – the customers – from those who are authorized to stand guard behind the counter. My chocolate-brown eyes never left Ricky's, which widened hysterically as I walked up to him and slipped my arms around his waist.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he stammered, glancing around nervously in case we were being observed. "You're not allowed back here.

I tightened my grip and my body collided firmly with his. With nothing separating us but his Classic Movies polo shirt and my fluorescent pink tank top, my breasts squished invitingly against his chest and my nipples hardened.

After I lowered my chin into the crook of his shoulder, I said, "I needed a hug."

"But you don't even know me."

"Does that matter? Imagine how much nicer the world would be if we just gave a stranger a hug now and then."

Seconds later his palms were caressing my back, sliding over every contour, and this clearly illustrated his was more than a friendly embrace. Just knowing that he wanted me was cause enough for me to salivate profusely from both ends. I was eager as hell to worship him with my mouth, to suck it until the evidence of his satisfaction would arrive in the form of my mouth being filled with his semen.

But as excited as I was, like all men, he had to be teased into submission first.

"Have you ever kissed a girl whose name you haven't known?"

We lifted our heads, gazed into each other's eyes, and he shook his head. "N-no, I can't say I have."

"Would you like to?"

"Oh, yes," he murmured.

Our lips touched. At first his were trembling, as if by some small miracle he was cold on what could amount to be one of the hottest days of the year. As the duration of the kiss increased so did his confidence, prompting me to take it to the next level. Moaning with devilish delight, I wormed my tongue in between his lips and sought out his, and for a few minutes we made out with the passion of a pair of lovers on their honeymoon.

Left breathless, intensely horny and itching to lay my lips on another part of his body, I ceased kissing him and slipped my arms around his neck. "You had orange juice at breakfast, didn't you?" I queried, licking my lips.

"And Cocoa Puffs. But yeah, I had the orange juice before I left for work."

The closeness of our bodies and the heat generated from the scorching kiss was too much for Ricky to handle. The nature of human biology had immediately set in, giving him rigor mortis of the cock. His face flushed the color of an overripe tomato and he attempted to hide his newly erect state by shifting the lower half of his body away from me; but I parried this defensive strategy by moving in for the kill – I shoved him against the counter and thrust my hips against his, enjoying the pained expression on his face as he squirmed against me.

I stroked the side of his face and ran my other hand through his shaggy hair. "Stop being such an ass," I demanded affectionately.

"But–"

"No. No buts. Do you have any idea what a compliment this is?" I rotated my hips against his hard-on for emphasis. "I managed to turn you on with a hug and a kiss, and I've hardly even touched you! Don't you dare try to hide the affect I'm having on you, because I want to feel it. I like feeling it. A girl takes pride in being able to give a guy a nice, big stiffy."

Ricky let fly a nervous laugh. "You've definitely managed to give me one of those. Hell, and I still don't know your name."

"Who cares what my name is."

"I just thought that…"

I brushed his fringe out of his eyes and offered him a warm smile. "What? You just thought what?"

"I just thought that you'd wanna tell me your name, that's all."

"It's Megan Carrey," I conceded. "But pretty much everyone calls me Meg."

"Nice to meet you, Megan"

"Meg," I amended.

"Okay, Meg it is."

After wrapping my arms around his neck again, I leaned in and nuzzled the tender hollow of his throat. I nipped at the soft skin, teased it with little bites and licks, and then showered his neck with tiny kisses all the way up to his ear. "Good boy," I whispered sexily. "You're already starting to obey me."

"Got any other orders for me?" he joked.

"Actually, yes, I do. I want you to stick your hand inside my cut-offs."

When he didn't answer I tore my lips away from his ear and gazed into his soulful brown eyes. The look on his face was absolutely priceless – a mixture of giddy rapture, incredulity and embarrassment were but a handful of expressions taking up residence.

"Where?!"

"My cut-offs." I stepped away from him and pointed at my crotch. "Right here. You'll have to unzip them first 'cause they're really tight."

Rarely am I this playful with the guys I go down on. There was something about Ricky that struck a unique note, something illusory that I couldn't quite pinpoint. Tash and I never have sex with a man unless the other is present, so I would have to run it by her that I've found a prospective 'special someone' that I may want to bring home.

"Is this some kind of prank?"

I pinched the zipper between my thumb and forefinger and eased it down slowly, making sure that the metallic teeth were given the opportunity to make their unmistakable sound. "Nope. Just push your hand inside and cop a big ol' feel of my pussy."

"This is insane," he muttered, reaching towards the strip of exposed skin with a shaky hand. The tips of his fingers grazed my flesh, and when they ventured inside my cut-offs a thousand butterflies tore through my stomach and left me weak at the knees.

While exploring my pussy with a gentle caress, Ricky surveyed the shop with a quick, paranoid glance. No one else had entered the store.

"Is it usually this quiet in here?"

"It, um, doesn't usually, um, pick up until midday."

God he was cute. His eyes were constantly flickering between my face and crotch, although occasionally this arduous journey would require him to stop at my breasts to take a short break. My nipples were stiff and poking through the thin cotton material of my tank top.

"Is she juicy?"

"Oh, yes," he sighed, and then added, "I can't believe you're not wearing any underwear."

"I never wear panties. The same goes for a bra, unless of course I have some kinky lingerie. You see, I like to remain accessible at all times, 'cause a girl never knows when she'll meet a guy and ask him to shove his hand between her legs."

"You're incredible," he said with a smile. "A little peculiar, but incredible nonetheless."

I thanked his flattery with a protracted kiss, savoring the sensation of his slick tongue and low moans as he kissed me back. Ricky was a decent kisser, tender where many men were rough.

Although not saturated with moisture, there was definitely a level of sticky precipitation accumulating downstairs, and after letting him play with me for what felt like hours – but was probably mere minutes – it suddenly occurred to me that instead of focusing my teasing talents on Ricky, they had in fact backfired onto me.

Still sucking eagerly on Ricky's delicious, orange juice flavored tongue, I quickly undid the zipper on his black work trousers and forced my hand inside, annoyed to discover that I had to navigate my way into his briefs as well. Once inside, my fingers curled around his engorged length of flesh. He groaned audibly into my mouth, sending a pleasant vibration along my tongue and down my throat.

I tore my lips away from his. "Honey," I panted, "since I made you this hard, I think it's only fair that I make it soft again. What if I suck on it for a while, do you think that will work?" It was my intention to sound spontaneous, as if the notion of sucking him off hadn't even occurred to me until I slipped my hand inside his pants.

"Meg…"

"Yes, Ricky?"

"How did you…" He paused and then glanced at his nametag. "Oh, the name badge."

"Yup. So what were you going to say?"

Ignoring my question, Ricky extracted his hand from between my legs and zipped up my cut-offs. His next course of action was to grab my wrist and drag my hand out of his trousers, but I would have none of that – I gripped his penis like it was a safety tether and didn't let go.

"Meg, we can't do this."

"Jesus, what would your friends say if they knew you were trying to turn down a blowjob? Huh? They would kick your ass, and rightly so."

"But–"

"Nuh uh, I told you before, no buts. Now, you're going to stand here like a good boy while I take care of your not-so-little problem down there, and if you even think about stopping me I'm gonna get angry. You don't want to see me when I'm angry. It's not pretty. So…to keep me in a happy mood you're going to have to let me suck your cock, okay?"

Not even hesitating for an answer, I dropped to my knees like a falling Acme safe from a Looney Tunes cartoon, and as I made contact with the plush, freshly laid carpet I yanked his trousers and briefs inside out down his semi-tanned legs.

It was a beautiful cock, thick and straight and as hard as a block of frozen ice. Even with one hand still wrapped around the base of his shaft there was still enough available exposed flesh for me to apply my other hand, which meant he was definitely bigger than average.

I've looked at a lot of men's faces from this position – on my knees, dick in hand, my mouth watering with the anticipation of being filled with a delectable length of man meat – and this fine specimen's was as adorable as any I've gazed up at.

Ricky's eyes were transfixed on mine, unwavering. He caressed the side of my face, stroking my skin with his soft, clean palm. At this point, most men wouldn't be able to restrain themselves from either grabbing the back of my head or wrapping their hands in my hair, both being methods to force my mouth roughly onto their cocks to relieve some of the tension. But not Ricky. He seemed like a genuinely sweet guy, and although this typically made no difference to me, I felt it to be my duty to reward his kindness with a pretty special blowjob.