Susie Suckit

Amateur

I’m a Pro writer, wrote the novel ‘Pack,’ among others. First love always porn. The comments people leave on these stories always help me. Good or bad, tell me what you think. BTW, a good writer has a thick skin, takes bad comments and sees if there is any truth. A bad writer gets upset. Have a great day!

*****

My name is Susie Sogit.

I’m sure you see the poetry in that: Susie Suckit. That’s what I was called, whenever an adult was not in hearing distance, throughout my entire life.

Heck, even adults would mispronounce it. They’d get embarrassed and flustered, try not to apologize, just slide over it, like they didn’t know they had called me that, but they had.

I didn’t care.

Truth of the matter is this: there is a very justified theory that people’s names are labels. A guy named carpenter ends up working with wood. A fellow named digger ends up excavating graves. And so on.

So Susie Sogit—I—ended up sucking cocks.

Truth: I am the best cock sucker in the world.

And where that has led me…well, let me tell you.

I discovered the benefits of living up to my name in school; it was simple, I didn’t want to write a boring paper on Moby Dick. If I suck, then Herman Melville REALLY sucks.

So I was walking to school one day, and one of the brainy types fell in next to me and said, “Hi, Susie Suckit.”

Without even thinking I quipped, “I will if you give me your Moby Dick paper.

Well, his eyes bugged, he got an F, and I got an A, and a career was born.

After school I took him home, mom was at work, and I laid him down on Dad’s big worktable.

It was weird, sucking a dick right next to a buzz saw blade.

I undid Jimmy’s zipper, pulled his skinny little dick out, and got to work.

Funny thing, I liked it.

I had never seen a dick before, outside of pictures on the net, so I examined the thing pretty close.

I stretched it out and ran a finger up the length of it.

Jimmy shivered like granny when she lost her nightie.

I asked him, “Does that feel good?”

He gulped, and the game was on.

I stroked my finger up the back of his shaft, then a side, then the underside, then the other side. The bottom gave the best shiver and gulp, so I focused on that.

Near the base wasn’t much; the closer I got to the head the more he started to gulp and whine. So I focused just below the head.

I rubbed under the helmet, it was getting really red, so I put my lips on it.

I’ve got pretty good lips. Plump, they look great in lipstick, and they flare out a bit when I suck.

He could see my lipstick as I swirled his helmet in my mouth.

He shivered, gulped, and actually rolled his eyes. That’s right, they rolled upwards and his eyes looked white, like a zombie’s in a monster picture.

Oh, man, I was loving this.

I experimented with how much of the shaft I could take in my mouth. Turns out I could take a pretty good amount; I got down to about casino oyna an inch from the base before I gagged. And, with time, deep throating turned out to be pretty easy.

I slurped, I sucked, I swirled the head of his dick, and his hips began to bounce up and down. And, long story short, the doofus squirted.

Took me by surprise, him suddenly erupting in my mouth, but I like my eggs over easy so I just gulped it down.

And, I will tell you this: there is nothing that tastes quite so good as the juice from a shivering, bloated, over-excited cock. I mean, that baby batter is sweet! It leaves a great after taste, and, truth, I would eventually find out that there are an INCREDIBLE number of vitamins and minerals in that sweet nectar.

So, there I was, hooked, and on the cusp of a great career.

After my experience with Jimmy I never did a speck of school work again. Yet my grades were straight A. And, funny thing, the boys I sucked became scholars. They had to, they were writing their papers twice, once for them and once for me.

I ‘worked’ my way through college, earning a degree in physics. Heck, the only thing I can add up is my bank account, but that degree was easier than falling off a log. And my grades were so high companies like NASA and JPL were on my doorstep.

The funniest thing about that period of my life was taking the tests. Boy would get their brainy girlfriends to take my tests for me—most professors only see tits, they can’t tell the difference between a girl—and they never told their girlfriends that they were getting their peenies drained by me on a regular basis.

Nowadays I am married. Yeah, that’s a surprise, right? But I met a guy who didn’t stare at my tits and I trapped him. Let me explain what I mean by that.

When I met a guy I would talk to him, then, after ten minutes I would close my eyes and ask him what color they were. They never knew. Horny, little bastards were just obsessing on my mammary glands. So I knew they didn’t care about me.

But a few actually knew that I have bright, vibrant, blue eyes. And from these I would choose my real dates, and look for that Mr. Right.

Of course, Mr. Right had to be okay with my job; with my slurping on the dongs of a dozen guys a day.

But I found one, we married, and we even have kids. Truth, we have glorious sex, the only guy I have ever had sex with in my life. But let’s go back to that cocksucking thing, okay?

My day starts at five in the morning. I rise, make myself beautiful (red lipstick, high lifting bra, nylons, long, blonde hair tousled down over my bare shoulders. In short, I make myself a vision. Heck, You have to sell the goods before the customer will buy the merchandise, right?

I don’t eat. Never eat. In fact, I only eat a few crackers at night. On Sunday, my one day off, I will have modest meals, but I get so much protein that I don’t have much appetite.

By 5:30 in the AM I am at the office. I check my supplies, make sure slot oyna I have enough wipes, the dildos and butt plugs are all clean, the table is prepped with clean towels, the heater is functioning, and so on.

6:00 the first customer shows up. Usually banker types who lie to their wife about having to get to the office early. (‘Sorry, dear, I have to take inventory.’)

I have them take off their clothes in one of the outer offices. This allows me to make sure they aren’t wearing wires; the police do, every once in a while, try to bust me. All they get for their efforts are a fantastic blow job and no proof. At any rate, once they are divest of clothes they enter…’the room.’

It is dark in there, and I take them by the cock, massage their beast until it grows nice and rigid, all the while talking to their face.

Face talking is very important. Face talking is when you get a couple of inches away from their face, filling their vision with red lips and innocent, blue eyes, and whisper really nasty things.

Sweet Jesus, you have a nice cock. It’s so fucking hard. And these balls, they are fucking grape fruits! I don’t think I have ever felt so much semen in a ball before. Fuck! I can’t wait to taste you; I can’t wait to take your long shlong down my nasty throat and start sucking. I can’t wait to suck your dick so hard I can kiss those magnificent balls. You must have a gallon of jazz stored up and ready to go. Fuck, fuck…come get on the table, I can’t wait anymore…

They get on the table, lying face up. I buckle straps over their limbs to better control them—men love to be controlled and made to cum. I place warm towels over their chests and legs. I put a black, sleeping mask over their eyes so they can’t see, so they won’t be distracted by any sense other than the sensations in their dicks.

I massage their bodies lightly, working on the nipples, and sometimes I’ll put nipple clamps on them. Oh, how they moan when those little chest dickies are trapped, gripped, pinched, and the blood rushes and the nerve endings cry out.

Finally, I begin working their manhoods. I begin with long, tender strokes. After every stroke I squeeze their balls. Mostly, I squeeze gently, massage the sperm in them, but every once in a while I give a hard squeeze, make them lurch on the table. This reminds them of the violence of ejaculation they are about to receive.

Finally, I begin working the head, that delightful helmet. I rub the underside of the shaft, as I engulf the head with my lips. I slide my tongue around the head again and again.

By now my customer is beside himself, but I am not done. When he is about to let go, achieve release, find his little nirvana on earth, I back off.

Oh, how they cry and beg. Drool is coming out the sides of their mouths, their eyes go round in the sockets, and I start in on the asshole.

I use a basic, soft butt plug, not too big, to start them off. I use lots of lube, and I swirl and rim their pucker until it relaxes canlı casino siteleri and begs for more.

Then I take the butt plug out, gently, and move an aneros into the brown bud. I push, a little roughly, but lots of lube makes my customer feel appropriately taken. God how they moan when I start working that prostate massager inside them. Around and around, up and down, pushing on the prostate.

But I have to be careful. Too much and they leak out, no orgasm, and not every man likes that. So when they are ready and ripe, starting to surge, I extract the aeros and insert a regulation dildo. This keeps up the pressure on the prostate, keeps the juices bubbling, as it were, and yet does not supply enough pressure to let them leak out.

Mind you, all this while I am massaging the dick. Moving my well oiled hands in concert with the anal penetration.

I click a switch and the dildo in their butt starts vibrating. They are ready now, and I carefully build them for the big climax.

I stroke slowly, making them work, and they are willing to work, they are so fucking horny now they can’t stop themselves. And, as they climb the final mountain, begin the surging roil of their balls, feel the ignition in their groin and the series of contractions within, I lower my head and slurp the helmet with my lips.

They let loose, they can’t stop, deep surges, and ropes fill my mouth. If the guy is a big cummer, with lots of jizz, I swallow as fast as I can. If he’s a little cummer I hold it in my mouth, enjoy the taste, then swallow.

Done, I help the customer off the table. Usually they have lost the use of their legs and I have to help support them, guide them so they don’t fall down.

Then I wash them carefully, and guide them to the dressing room.

By now 45 minutes have passed and another customer is in the other waiting room, naked, ready for my ministrations.

I do three customers in the morning, and three in the afternoon. In between the morning and afternoon I go to the gym and work out.

And, I don’t eat anything. I am so full of sperm I am bloated, and I need to work off the overload lest I get fat.

A couple of other things.

I don’t always eat every drop. I usually save a load every day so that I can massage the semen into my breasts. I seem to get larger and larger as the years go by, but my work outs at the gym keep them from sagging.

And, BTW, I have never let my breasts dry up after kids. I don’t want them to shrink; I want them big and fat, and being full of milk helps me accomplish that.

What this means is that I sometimes let men suck my breasts. I make sure they are locked to the table, and I divest myself of a morning, and an afternoon, of baby milk. I never let the men know who is going to get to suckle me, but they always enjoy it.

On my day off hubby gets the honor, but what we do to each other is another story.

At any rate, I am healthier than a horse, with huge breasts, golden skin, and long, blonde hair that is finer than the Gods’.

I rarely buy food, mostly subsisting on a diet of sperm, and with my fees for sucking I have a HUGE bank account.

I’m Susie Suckit, and that’s my story.

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