There are women who love to suck cock, and then there was Abby McHale.
Catholic schoolgirl stereotypes about their repressed and latent sexuality are not just idly created. They were embodied in cute, shy little freckled redheaded Abby McHale.
Abby was the manager of a novelty store in a regional mall I managed. There's not even the slightest need to pretend that we were anything more than fuck buddies. Abby was twenty-six with huge tits, not a bad premise for a woman. She had a thing for both older men and men who she perceived to be in a position of some authority. She was also a complete sexual submissive when she came across such a man.
She would do anything I said, and liked it that way.
Not surprisingly, so did I.
Abby was also in a long-term, long-distance relationship with her college sweetheart who now lived in North Carolina. Her excuse for sucking my cock numerous times weekly, at least in her own mind, was that it was only practice to better please her fiancee'-to-be, as she wishfully called him.
Whatever. She would recite this mantra even as I exploded load after load onto her Raggedy-Ann-cute face and her pillow soft, heavily freckled titties.
I was thirty-eight and had been divorced for about two years. Let's just say I was making up for lost time recently. When you manage a mall, about ninety percent of the store managers are women, and though I should have been more discreet, in hindsight, at the time I was bedding a fair amount of store employees at a pretty rapid pace.
And, as the song goes, "word gets around in a small, small town, they say he was a dangerous man."
Well, perhaps dangerous isn't the adjective. Endowed might be more appropriate. I pack a solid eight inches. It seemed my legend had kind of grown among some of the women I'd entertained. Word-of-mouth advertising is always the most effective method of attracting customers. Abby loved, and even insisted upon, hearing about my other conquests.
For some reason, Abby particularly got off on hearing about the somewhat older Macy's department store manager I had bedded a few times in the last month, a divorced Korean woman in her late forties named Alicia, who had a penchant for anal sex. The more graphically I described my episodes with Alicia, the more enthusiastically Abby, an anal virgin, orally performed on me.
Oh, yes, Abby McHale was a self-proclaimed size queen, too. So, I pretty much fit her every category for cock sucking practice. Yep, I willingly volunteered my services. I'm a gentleman that way.
As Allen Iverson once famously said, "Hey, we only talkin' 'bout PRACTICE..."
Anyway, on this particular Thursday evening, I got the call about ten o'clock, or just about store closing time. "I'm coming over," Abby said, which was now becoming about a two-or-three times a week occasion. She'd come over late, suck me, I'd fuck her, she'd suck me again, and leave. All neat and tidy, about a sixty-to-ninety minute workout, usually. Still time for a good night's sleep. She never wanted to stay, either, which was heavenly. Abby seemed to think that staying the night equated to 'cheating'.
I loved this woman's way of thinking. I liked it more when she next said, "And tonight, I'm bringing a toy."
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell to my townhouse rang. I walked to answer the door wearing only boxer shorts. That was the good thing about Abby's visits, there was no need to dress up for them. It was the ultimate "cum as you are" event.
My eyes widened when I saw my new "toy". Abby smiled when she saw my reaction.
"This is Casey, my newest employee, Mr. Mall Manager." I felt my mouth gape open at the same rate that my cock was growing out. "Well, aren't you going to let us in?"
Casey was a petite brunette who I imagined was about as tall laying down as she was standing up. She was built like a gymnast, maybe not even five feet tall and not even one hundred pounds. However, her tits were, on that particular frame, huge. She wore a tight, white Phillies baseball t-shirt and a pair of black short-shorts that hugged her taut bubble butt like second skin.
When I finally got around to looking at her face, it was as awesome as the rest of her. Long, straight, jet black hair with a hint of Asian features around her eyes. Coal-black pupils, and full red lips. I estimated her to maybe still be a teenager, but I found out soon enough that she had just turned twenty.
"We don't have a lot of time, Casey has to be home by midnight. She still lives with her mom, who's real strict." Abby took my one hand in hers and placed my other hand in Casey's tiny palm and we walked to our familiar 'workout' place, my couch.
Abby sat me down on the couch and peeled off her own t-shirt and unhooked her bra in about the time it took to blink. She knelt in front of me and motioned for Casey to take a seat next to me on the couch.
"Casey and I were making girl talk and I asked her which guy in the mall she found the most fuckable, and she said, 'That mall manager looks like he'd know his way around a bed.' What a coincidence, huh?"
