The Girl Upstairs

The Girl Upstairs

by

Little Dan

The guy was on his back on my kitchen floor, working on my recalcitrant dishwasher, which had stopped working just when every dish in the house was dirty and loaded into it. His name was Pete and he was in a tight blue Dish-o-Matic uniform, his long legs stretched across my kitchen floor. While Pete labored on, I was sitting nearby at my small breakfast table watching him repair, so naturally we started talking. It was just a lot of guy-stuff. Baseball. Basketball. Nascar. We were both big Nascar fans. I told him a story I had heard about Mickey Tokie, the lategreat driver, who, I heard, had had a drunken orgy with six luscious bimbos in a motel room just before that final race when he crashed his speedster into the sidewall, and was incinerated in a spectacular volcano of Nascar flames.

From there the conversation naturally drifted to our other favorite subject, women. Womenwomenwomen. Their legs. Their asses. Their racks. We enthusiastically recalled past pleasures. Tits. Pussies. Blowjobs. Fucks. Assfucks. And on and on and on. It so happens I had some good stuff I could show Pete, so I went into the bedroom and reached into my closet where I kept handy my treasure trove of fuck magazines. They were easily accessible, because I often perused them. I had been jerking off to them fairly frequently since my wife and I had broken up.

I walked into the kitchen with a few of my favorites, and Pete was finishing up, putting the last screws into the back of the dishwasher. He was still lying on the floor.

"Here. Look at this," I said and showed him a picture of this stacked blonde fingering her pussy. He put down his screwdriver and held the magazine up in front of his eyes.

"Wow," he said. "Nice." He turned the page. I knew what was on the next page. The blonde was sucking some lucky guy's long stiff thick cock.

"Wow. Nice." He reiterated. He started turning more pages. I could see his dick lengthening inside his tight blue uniform. Funny. I wasn't even looking at the magazine and I was getting a hard-on too.

"I just love blowjobs," I rhapsodized.

"Yeah. Me too," he answered. "I love the feeling of those nice wet lips wrapped around my dick, as I'm slamming my cock in until she starts to gag and choke." He laughed maniacally.

"Yeah. Me too. I really love blowjobs. I love when they lick your balls. And under your balls. Right around your ass. It kind of tickles. It's so fucking sexy. And then they go back and clamp their mouth over your cock and start suctioning it, all the while their making all these little squealing pleasure noises, like your cock was the best thing they've had in their mouth since their first Christmas candycane.

"Christ. Stop it. You're getting me hot," he said. He reached down and tried to adjust his tight pants around the obviously large constricted flesh contained therein.

"Sorry," I said. I also had to adjust a little, but he didn't see that. He had put down the magazine and was putting the last screw into the back of the dishwasher.

"Damn it. I wish I had someone to give me a nice hot blowjob right now," he said.

And that's when I got this great idea. Mona. My upstairs neighbor. She loved to suck cock. Who should know that better than I?

"I just had this crazy idea," I announced to Pete.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"My neighbor. The girl upstairs. She loves to suck cock. I mean, man, she gives the greatest blowjobs in the world."

"She does?" He sounded interested

"Maybe I could call her and ask her to come down. I think she'd be glad to suck that dick of yours. And she loves cum. She likes you to cum way down her throat so she can swallow it all."

"Oh, my god," said Pete. "You're driving me crazy."

"You want me to call her?" I asked.

"Hell yes," answered Pete enthusiastically. He had rolled the dishwasher back against the wall and was giving it a test cycle. At the same time, almost unconsciously he had started lightly rubbing the fabric of his uniform in the area of the zippered fly.

"You're gonna love Mona," I assured him.

"I know I will," he answered and followed me to the phone, rubbing his crotch all the way into the living room.

I picked up the receiver and dialed Mona's number. I knew it by heart.

Mona and I had met some months ago in the lobby, waiting for the elevator. I had just recently moved into the building after separating from my wife. My wife had kept our old apartment and I had taken this rental. (This rental with a lot of faulty equipment. Like the dishwasher that had just conked out.) It wasn't that Shirley and I were fighting or anything. It's just that we never saw each other. She worked all day. And I worked all night. I was the night manager in a printing plant, and it was a good job. But there was no way I was every going to get transferred to days. So Shirley and I mainly passed each other going in and out of the front door. We had no relationship anymore. We had no sex anymore. That was when I started buying magazines.

We mutually agreed that it would be better for us both if we separated, and tried to find a compatible partner living on the same shift. It had been a very long time since I'd had anything but a hand job. My own hand, that is. I was aching for some action.

One morning not long after I took this apartment, I was just getting home from work, and I was standing in the lobby in front of the elevator door, waiting. And waiting. And waiting. The elevator was on 24-----23----------22-----22------22----was someone holding the door? I was tired and I just wanted to hit the sack. (After first looking at one of the magazines, and getting rid of the heavy load my balls were carrying.) It had been a tough night. We had just completed a six color annual report for a major corporation. It had been a complicated job, but the report looked just great. Full of impressive two-page spread pictures of oil-rigs stretched clear across the Gulf of Mexico.

It was then that I first met Mona. She was dressed to kill, obviously getting home from a late evening. She had on a tight red dress, with a low cut collar and you could see the swell of her ample cleavage. Her lipstick, however, was completely smeared. She was carrying a small plastic bag from the deli, which was sufficiently see-through for me to detect a pint of non-dairy creamer.

"I haven't seen you before," she said. "You new in the building?"

"Yeah. Just a couple of weeks."

"Welcome," she said. "I'm Mona Ashcroft. Apartment 5C."

"Oh. You're right above me," I answered. "I'm in 4C. Jerry Jagger."

"Pleased to meet you," she said. And we shook hands. It was at that point that I started to remember some of the tantalizing noises that were coming from the apartment above me during the daytime while I was trying to get some sleep. I had heard what I thought was moaning. And occasionally I heard some words which I could barely make out, but at one point, I thought some guy was yelling "Suck it, bitch." I got a slight hard-on while I was half sleeping, but then I dozed off again. And, also I had heard the mattress squeaking a lot. This Mona was undoubtedly a very hot chick.

"You're up early," she commented, looking at her watch. It was now about 7:30 a.m.

"I'm up late," I countered. "I'm just getting home from work."

"My God," she said, with a slight pitying tone in her voice. "What do you do?"

"I work in a printing plant. I'm on the night shift."

"Your wife must love that," she commented.

"She didn't. That's why we're separated."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thanks," I said. "You look like you're just getting home from a big evening."

"No. I was working too," she said.

"What type of work do you do?" I asked, hoping I wasn't being presumptuous.

"I cater bachelor parties," she said. "I take care of all the hiring and festivities to give the groom a big sendoff," she added.

"Sounds like an interesting profession," I commented, not really understanding what we were talking about. "And you catered a party last night?"

"Did I ever. It was one of those Park Avenue events in a big hotel ballroom I rented for the evening. There were over 200 guests."

"I'm impressed," I told her. I was sure there were a million details involved in catering a large bachelor party in a hotel ballroom.

The elevator arrived and I held the door for her. She pushed 5 and I was about to push 4 when she said---"Why don't you come up to my place for a little while. I'm about to make some coffee. We can chat."

I thought about it for a fraction of a second. I was tired, but what the hell.

"Sure," I said. I didn't push 4.

Her apartment was just like mine. The layout, that is. Her decorations were a lot nicer. More feminine, you know. We went into the kitchen and I sat down at HER little kitchen table, while she made the coffee.

We chatted about this and that, and when she was seated across the table from me, she took out the cardboard pint of non-dairy creamer from the bag, and we both poured a little into our coffees.

"So now that you're separated, do you have a girlfriend?" She was being really direct considering our short acquaintance.

"No," I answered. "I don't have time. Where would I meet anyone?"

"Oh, I don't know," she kidded slyly. "Maybe waiting for an elevator."

"Yeah," I said, and we both laughed.

"So what do you do for relief?" Now she was really getting a little too personal.

"Not much," I said, evasively.

"But something," she persisted.

"Well, maybe a little something."

"And all by yourself?"

"Well how else?" I yelled at her. I was getting annoyed. This was embarrassing. She didn't have to know how I got my rocks off.

"I was only asking, because I thought maybe I could help," she said softly.

"Yeah?" I asked stupidly. What was she getting at? "How could you help?"

She swallowed the last sip of her coffee, and blotted her lips on a paper napkin.

"Oh, you know," she said.

I didn't really know but I nodded my head.

"What I do for all the bachelors and their friends, I could do for you."

I was beginning to get an idea what she was referring to.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I don't make a lot of money."

She laughed merrily. "Who said anything about money. We're neighbors, aren't we?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Well, I like to be neighborly. I may knock on your door and ask to borrow a cup of sugar sometime. You wouldn't mind that, would you?"

"No. I wouldn't mind that."

"And you're a very good looking guy. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, a few people," I admitted, but not in a boastful way.

"Well, then."

"Well?" I still didn't know how to proceed. I didn't think I should make a grab for her.

She solved the problem for me. She came around the table and got me to push my chair back, and sat down on my lap. She leaned her head forward and we kissed. I stuck my tongue into her coffee flavored mouth. I could almost taste the non-dairy creamer. She was sitting down hard on my stiffening cock, and I had my arms around her waist and began to manipulate her weight on my itching throbbing appendage. She reached down and touched it through my pants.

"It feels really big," she whispered into my ear. "Is it really big?"

"Seven and a half," I said precisely. I had measured it more than once and I was proud of it.

"MMMMM," she whispered seductively into my ear again. "I love big cocks."

"You do?" I asked, hardly believing the luck that had come my way.

"I do," she whispered. "I want to see it. I want to see it right now."

She got up and immediately dropped to her knees in front of my chair. She slowly drew down my zipper, and worked her hand through the opening in my boxer shorts, and grabbed hold of it. Slowly she eased it through all openings, (outer and underwear) and it stood proudly erect, glad for a breath of fresh air, happy to be free of all fabric confinements.

She rubbed her hand up and down on it a few times, like she was idolizing it, and then suddenly her head swooped forward and she took it into her warm mouth.

"I love sucking cock," she told me. "You don't know how much I love sucking cock."

"That's great," I said happily. I could never understand what a woman gets out of sucking a cock. It didn't seem like the kind of thing that would ever be appealing. But `chaqu'un a son gout', as they say. To each his own.

"Come on. Let's go into the bedroom," she said standing up and taking me by the hand. She led the way, and I happily followed.

Once we were both undressed, she positioned me on my back with my dick facing the ceiling. Above that ceiling was my floor, and my bed, and I wasn't in it.

I was in Mona's bed getting my cock sucked off.

My god. Did this girl have a technique. I never felt anything like it in my life. I had never particularly liked blowjobs before, always preferring to fuck. But this blowjob---this one was beyond anything I had every felt. Beyond breastlicking, beyond pussyfucking, beyond assfucking. This was a whole new world. I had finally stumbled into Wonderland. "Eat me," I groaned. And she did.

All the while she was working on me she was moaning. Obscene turn-on moans. Her soft tongue moved down and tickled my balls. "oooooohhhhhh," I groaned. She smiled. She knew she was turning me on. She knew what she was doing, all right.

"Ooooohhhh."

"You like that Jerrry?"

"Oooooohhhh."

"I know you do, honey. I know you do." Then she stopped talking and went back to bathing my large tightening balls. She eased my legs over her shoulders. (the same way I used to easy my wife's legs over my own shoulders, while I was fucking her.) What did she have in mind?

She lowered her head and began to tickle the smooth band of flesh behind my balls.

"Oooooohhhhh,"

"Feels great, doesn't it?" she asked me. Then she continued to lick me.

"Oooohhhhh."

And then the biggest surprise of all. Her lovely tongue was lapping my asscheeks, and it felt wonderful. In my whole life, I had never had my asscheeks lapped, and I suppose most guys have never had their asscheeks lapped, and my god, it was great. It was beyond great. I was really in Wonderland. "Lap me lap me lap me," screamed Alice to the March Hare.

And then... And you're not even going to believe this, she took her hands and spread my asscheeks, and her tongue was licking at my hole. Licking at my fucking asshole. Oh, my god.

"AAAAAGGGGGHHHH," I screamed as my body tossed on the bed like a freshly caught trout on the deck of a boat.

Oh my God. Her tongue was even going into my asshole. Oh my god.

"MMMMMMMM. MMMMMMM." Said Mona.

Now her mouth went back over my dick and her head went down and down and down, and the tip of my dick was hitting the back of her throat. I think they call that deep throat. Mona was deep throating me.

"AAAARRRRHHHH," I gurgled. I could feel the hot cum begin to boil inside my balls.

"I'm gonna cum," I screamed to give her warning to get it out of her mouth, but she just kept sucking and sucking and trying to get it even deeper inside. She twisted her body at a crazy angle to open her gullet, so my cock could slip past it deep into her esophagus-----and then it came. Splash after splash after splash---way down deep in her throat. "Drink me," said the bottle. And Alice did.

Mona, slowly and lovingly eased my spent dick into the front of her mouth, where she tongued the remaining droplets of my ejaculate as if it were the finest champagne. How can women like to do this kind of stuff, I wondered. And yet I was intrigued. I wondered what it was really like for her. She obviously got something out of it.

"There wasn't a dick at the bachelor party as nice as yours,' she assured me. I think I felt flattered.

"Thank you so much," I said with heartfelt sincerity. "You don't know how much I needed that."

"I think I do," she said, patting my shoulder. "And any time. I mean that. I'm right upstairs."

"I wouldn't want to impose," I protested.

"You're not imposing. Just give me a call first to make sure I'm free. Here let me give you my number." She wrote it down on a post-it and handed it to me.

"I mean that. Any time. I love sucking cock."

"How could anybody like sucking cock?" I asked, shaking my head.

"You wouldn't understand. It's beyond wonderful. Working that sweet smooth dick into a hard rigid pole as I stroke it, and then sliding that smooth hard rod into my mouth, all the way into my mouth, as I milk it and milk it. And my final reward and greatest joy is a mouth full of hot sweet cum. Hot sweet mancum. It's beyond wonderful. You can't begin to imagine. And to know that as I'm enjoying myself, I'm giving exquisite pleasure to another human being. Life doesn't get any better. Sucking cock is paradise. That's all anyone could ever want in the next life."

Well. If she was happy, I was happy. I kissed her lightly on the lips, not tasting the coffee or the creamer now, but maybe the last vestige of my own sperm. I went to the elevator, pushed the button, got in and went down one floor to my own apartment where I got undressed and got into bed and fell into a long deep wonderful sleep. Without even looking at my magazines.

Even though I didn't want to be pushy, I took frequent advantage of Mona's hospitality. In fact, she seemed to enjoy it even more than I did. Sometimes instead of concentrating on my own pleasure, I began to try to imagine what it was like for her. To have my cock in my mouth. To lick it. To suck it. To lap my large hairy balls. To stick her tongue into my tight asshole, which I made sure was always very clean when I visited Mona. I always took a shower first, and eased a soapy finger into my little rectal hole. It felt kind of nice. I think my ass was getting a little eroticized. I wondered if maybe I was turning a little queer. But, hell, I think a lot of guys would get off on having their asshole fingered and licked. Wouldn't they?

It was taking me longer and longer to come, because I wasn't feeling my own body all the time. My mind was in Mona's head. I studied every movement of hers. Every finger twitch, every tongue flick, the way her cheeks sucked in as she created a veritable vacuum in her mouth; the way she positioned herself so that my dick could pass her uvula as she buried the shaft entirely in her mouth, until her lips were resting against my balls. She was an expert. I had been very lucky to find Mona.

She raised her eyes to mine and saw me intently studying her.

"What's the matter, honey? Anything wrong?"

"No," I protested. "Everything is just great. I was just concentrating on your technique."

"Honey, my technique is patented. There isn't another lady in the world who can do what I can do."

"I believe that," I said. She smiled at me and swallowed my long shaft again, and within a few moments she had brought me to the doorstep of Nirvana.

"AAARRRGGGHHH," I screamed as the scum began blasting out of my dick into her warm mouth. She drank it down like lemonade. I blasted and she drank. We had a good thing going.

And then one day, the awful happened. I had used every dish in my apartment, and when I went to turn on the dishwasher. Nothing. I pressed the button again. Nothing. I pressed the fucking button six more times. I took a plate out of the dead machine and washed it by hand in the sink, so that I could eat my dinner before I went to work. Then I looked up Dish-0-Matic in the phone book and called for a repairman. They promised me that someone would be there between noon and four on Wednesday, the 26th. Great. Only 10 days to wait. Only 10 days of washing dishes by hand. What a world.

But shortly after noon on the 26th the buzzer rang, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I picked up the intercom. "Dish-O-Matic," he said from the lobby. Thank God. I buzzed him in and waited by the door. That was how Pete came to be in my apartment today, fixing my dishwasher.

So when Pete and I started kidding about fucking and blowjobs and everything, I naturally thought of Mona. I knew she wouldn't mind helping out a nice guy like Pete. I mean, he was very good looking, and besides- - - she loved to suck cock, didn't she? She would thank me for this. They both would thank me for this. Was I a Good Samaritan or not?

I lifted the receiver to my ear, and pressed out her number on the keypad. Pete was right next to me kind of rubbing on his crotch. We smiled at each other.

Mona answered the phone. She sounded a little funny. Like she had a mouth full of cotton.

"Hey, Mona," I said cheerfully. "It's me, Jerry."

"Hi Jerry."

"I got a little surprise for you," I teased her.

"I can imagine," she said.

"No. Not me. I got a friend of mine over here. Pete. Actually he came over to fix my dishwasher, and I was kind of telling him about you."

"You were? What were you telling him?"

Maybe I was digging myself into a hole. I mean women don't like it when you walk around telling everybody they suck cock. It makes them sound slutty. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I tried to dig myself out.

"About how beautiful you are."

"Really?"

"Yes. And what a nice neighbor you are. He wondered if I could introduce you to him."

"I'm sorry, Jerry. Ordinarily I would love to meet him, but I have a killing toothache and I'm just on my way out the door to the dentist. I almost didn't answer this call."

"But Mona. You gotta meet him. You'll really like him. He's a handsome guy. Tall and slender and muscular, with black curly hair." Pete and I were smiling at each other as I was describing him. He was sure that she would want to meet him. He hadn't heard her side of the conversation----about the toothache and the dentist.

"No, I can't," she said. "I'm on my way to the dentist."

Oh my goodness. I had gotten Pete's hopes up, sure that there would be no problem with Mona, and now this was happening. I got a little reckless. I decided to try anything that would entice her.

I whispered into the phone, covering my lips, even though I knew that Pete could hear every word I was saying. He was right next to me, for christsake.

"Mona. I haven't seen it. But I think he's got a very big cock. Really really big."

"Jerry!" she yelled at me angrily, but I had gone too far to stop now.

"Pete," I asked him. "How big is your dick? Mona wants to know how big your dick is," I lied.

"Jerry!" Mona screamed again into my ear.

"It's about 8-1/2 inches," said Pete, opening his belt and lowering his pants and jockeys to prove his statement. I stared at it in awe. I had never really looked at another man's hard-on before, but Pete's was really an impressive hard on. I had to admit that to myself. The power of suggestion. I was getting a hard-on from looking at Pete's hard-on.

"Come on, Mona," I pleaded. "You have to see this. You really have to see this. Wait till you get this thing in your mouth. You don't even know what heaven is yet."

"Are you crazy?" she screamed at me. "I have a toothache. I'm in agony. I'm going to the dentist. The only thing that's going into my mouth today is the little mirror, and possibly the drill. Oh, God. I hope not the drill. But probably."

"Gee, Mona. I sorry. I'm sorry about your toothache and I'm sorry that you have to miss out on Pete."

"I have to go now, Jerry. I have only one half hour to get to the dentist. Call me some other time." She hung up the phone. I stood there with the dead receiver in my hand, an apologetic look on my face.

"She has a toothache. She's on her way to the dentist." I shrugged my shoulders and hung up the phone.

"Jeez, man, you got me all excited over nothing. Look what you did."

We both looked down on his large angry red throbbing erection.

"You said I was going to get a blowjob," he complained, wrapping his fist around his needy organ.

"I know. I know I did," I apologized. "I can't tell you how sorry I am about this."

" `Sorry' doesn't cut it, man. I need a blowjob. Desperately. Do you know anyone else?"

I thought and I thought, and no, I didn't. The only other woman I knew was my wife who would be at work now, and certainly would not come over to suck the cock of a dishwasher repairman in any case.

I shrugged my shoulders. But an idea was growing in my head. I felt so bad about getting Pete worked up for nothing. This was all my fault. I felt I kind of owed him something. But what could I do? I knew what I could do. But no I couldn't do that. But maybe I could do that. Maybe if I even offered he would punch me in the mouth, and then I would have to go the dentist.

"Say something, man," He prodded me, stroking his hard dick, which my eyes were now glued to.

"You really need a blowjob?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah. That's what I need. Some hot sucking lips on my 8-1/2 inch wang, Jerry."

"Well. Would you want me to try?"

"That's at least a thought, Jerry."

"I've never done this before. I don't know if I can."

"Let's give it a try," he suggested. "I can look at the magazines, while you work on me. I can imagine that you're a beautiful blonde babe with big tits. I just won't look at you. I'll look at these magazines."

"Okay," I said. "This is all my fault, and it's up to me to help you out. Let's go into the bedroom."

He picked up the magazines and followed me into the bedroom. I made him take off his shoes and socks before lying down on the bed. I took off my own shoes and socks. He stripped off his pants and jockeys, but kept his shirt on. He leaned back against the pillows, in a half-sitting position, and holding his arms high to allow me access below, he began turning pages and looking at all the busty blondes sucking cock as I was about to do the same.

Still clothed, I knelt between his legs and gingerly took his big rod in my left hand. It was warm. It was so warm. It was so stiff. I looked at it. It was really beautiful. That innocent little eye staring up at me. And those large perfectly round balls, pulling tight as his cock lengthened even more at my touch. Involuntarily, I was starting to salivate. I eased my head down ever so slowly. A man's cock in my mouth... What next?

I stuck out my tongue, and licked around the smooth knob. So smooth. So smooth. Lovely. I lowered my head and took some of the shaft into my mouth. The knob rolled back along my tongue. Oh. This was nice. I was beginning to realize what Mona liked about sucking cock. This was very nice.

I began to really work on it now. My salivary juices were flowing, and Pete was starting to moan. A couple of times he stopped turning the pages of the magazine, and put it down, and just shut his eyes, and I knew I was making him feel really good. And I was so happy. I was so proud and so happy. And he was moaning and moaning, and then he started raising his hips, forcing his dick deeper down my throat, and I did start to choke a little, but I just started breathing heavily through my nose, and I was able to control my gag reflex. I didn't want to take his cock out of my mouth. I wanted it there. Just like this. And now he brought his hand down on top of my head and forced my head further down on his sweet rod. And it was sweet. Like Sugar. I loved it. I loved it.

But then I thought about some of Mona's other little tricks, and reluctantly I withdrew the long shaft from my mouth. Spit was just pouring down my chin and over his beautiful balls, which I now began to lick and suck on, even enjoying the scratchiness of his ball hairs on my busy tongue. "Ooooooohhhhhh," he moaned, just as I had moaned when Mona had sucked my balls. Yes. Mona had taught me a lot. Thanks to Mona, I was an ace cocksucker.

"Damn it. You're good," said Pete.

"Thank you," I answered and continued on down to the smooth area below his balls, and then lifting his legs over my shoulders, I began to feast on his handsome firm asscheeks.

"Wow," he said. "Wow,"

But I was not done yet. I spread his buttcheeks apart until the perfect little pink hole was visible and winking at me, and I kissed it. I tongued it and I kissed it as he thrashed about on the mattress, pressing my face tightly into his musky ass.

My tongue penetrated, and I thought it would be awful, but it wasn't, and I knew that I would do anything for Pete. Anything at all.

"Suck my cock," he screamed at me. And I did. I raised my head up and planted my jaws firmly around his cumgun, as he grabbed my hair, controlling every up and down movement of my head, as he raised and lowered his strong midsection, thrusting his organ deeper and deeper down my gullet. And suddenly I knew he was on the very edge of completion. I knew he was about to come, and I also knew that I was about to come. So as I sucked, I frantically lowered my pants and underpants, grabbing hold of my own throbbing joint and pulling on it in desperation. He screamed as his cum started blasting down my throat in jet after jet after jet of salty-sweet seed. And as the first gush hit the back of my throat, my own rod let loose it's own gusher, all over my blankets. I would worry about that later. I came and I came and I came. Not even when Mona had sucked my cock, had I gushed forth suck a torrent. Now I knew who I was. And I accepted it. Hell. I reveled in it.

"You're a great cocksucker," said Pete, as his softening dick slipped from my mouth. "Where did you learn to do that?"

"I just did what Mona does," I said.

"I'll really have to meet this Mona one day," he said.

"Well, if she's not available, I guess I could help you out again," I offered. I mean, I had already done it once, so what difference would it make if I did it again.

"Yeah. Maybe when I'm in the neighborhood, I'll give you call," he offered. "Just keep those magazines handy."

We both laughed, but I went to my desk and wrote out my phone number on a little note sheet and handed it to him. As soon as he cinched his belt, he took the paper from me, carefully folded it and placed it in his wallet. I hoped he would be in the neighborhood again very soon.

During the next few weeks, nothing much happened. It seemed Mona needed root canal, and also some gold crowns, which were being made, and she had temporary fillings in her mouth, which could come loose and would not permit her to pursue her vocation. The bachelors and their buddies would have to do without her for a while.

Every day, I hoped that Pete would call, but I guess he didn't have any repairs in this area. I was dying to try that again. But then a lucky thing happened. (At first I didn't think it was lucky and I cursed and stamped on the floor, but it turned out to be lucky.) My television went dead. I was sitting there watching, and everything went black and silent. I figured out it wasn't the set. It was the cable box. I called the cable company and only had to wait three days for an appointment.

Two hours into the specified time frame, the intercom rang. It was Cable. I buzzed him in and waited by the door.

His name was Marco, and he was of Italian extraction. And young. And sexy. I had the magazines handy near the television, and as he changed the cable box, we started talking about the ladies. And fucking. And blowjobs. And I showed him pictures. And I could see it was working. And I made my pitch.

"Hey. You know there's this girl upstairs. She just loves to give blowjobs. I bet if I called her she would come down and suck your cock for you. Would you like that?"

"Would I ever," said Marco enthusiastically.

"I'll call her," I said. "She likes to know how big your cock is. How big is it?"

"Nine inches," he boasted.

Gee. A half inch bigger than Pete's. This would be a challenge.

I pressed out Mona's number on the pad, but at that point I placed my body between Marco and the phone so that he would not see my finger holding down the button. I was talking into a dead telephone.

"Hey, Mona. It's Jerry. Why don't you come down here for a cup of coffee? I've got this friend I'd like to introduce you to. His name is Marco-----------------

Oh. Come on, Mona. He's got a nine-inch dick. You're gonna love this guy. But Mona. But Mona. But Mona. Okay. I'll call you later."

I turned to Marco apologetically. "She's got this bad toothache. She's on the way to the dentist."

His face fell.

"God. I feel so guilty," I apologized. "I got you all worked up over nothing. I promised you a great blowjob, and now Mona has to go the dentist. I feel just terrible."

He shrugged sadly, rubbing his dick slightly through his pants.

"My god. I can see you've got this big hard-on. I can't let you get blue balls. That would be terrible. And it would be all my fault. There must be something I can do."

"You know anyone else?" he pleaded.

"No. I don't . I'm sorry. Just Mona. And she gives the best head. You never felt anything like it. I'm so sorry I can't get her for you."

He shrugged again.

"But wait. I have an idea."

His face brightened. "I mean don't get me wrong. I'm not queer or anything. But I got you all excited for nothing, and I feel it's only right for me to help you out. I mean. I would be willing to suck your cock for you, if you wouldn't mind. Just to help you. You could just look at the magazines and pretend that your dick was in the mouth of some sexy beautiful blonde with heavy swinging tits,--- like her-----" And I opened the magazine and showed him a beautiful blonde with heavy swinging tits, and a cock in her mouth. His face brightened.

"Okay," he said. It hadn't been that difficult to convince Marco. He was a hot-blooded Mediterranean, after all.

I led him into the bedroom where he totally undressed before lying down on the bed. He picked up one of the magazines and started looking through it as his cock waved in the air. While he was looking at the magazine, I stripped myself. I didn't want to be encumbered this time. But he wasn't even looking at me. He was looking through the magazines and gently manipulating his equipment. What a beautiful dick. Powerful. Thick. Rigid. Warm. Pulsing. I crawled between his thighs, and began to give him the best head he would ever have in his life. I took it in my mouth and began to worship it wetly as it deserved to be worshiped. It felt--well--glorious. The smooth knob. The hard shaft. I flicked my tongue against the little top hole. I drew in my cheeks and went down and down and down. I did everything that Mona had taught me, everything that I had done to Pete, and even more. I licked the flesh on the inside of his thighs, from his knees into his crotch. I took each of his balls one by one into my mouth and warmed them. He was screaming. He was moaning. He was thrashing. And then he was screaming. He was moaning. He was thrashing. He was still screaming. He was still moaning. He was still thrashing. But he wasn't coming. What was I doing wrong? I kept lapping. I kept licking. I knew he was enjoying it, but he wasn't coming. Damn! If he didn't come soon I was going to be late for work. I didn't have one trick left in my bag. I had done it all. Damn.

I looked at him questioningly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is just great. But I can't come while I'm getting blown. I need to fuck."

"Oh," I said.

"Can I fuck you?"

Well,,,,," I stalled. I had never thought about that.

"Please," he begged, and at that point he licked a finger and reached around me, touching it to the edge of my butthole, as I did to myself when I was showering. And his finger felt kind of nice. I relaxed myself, and felt his finger slip in a little. I let it.

"Please," he said. "I need to fuck. I really need to fuck."

It was all my fault he needed to fuck so badly. What could I do other than say `yes.'

"Okay," I agreed. "But you're kind of big."

"I'll put it in slow," he promised.

I had no lubricant in the house. Absolutely none. This was a standard drug store item. Why didn't I have any lubricant in the house? Just because I never used lubricant didn't meet I might never need to have lubricant in the house. But it was too late now.

He spit on himself. He spit on me. I was lying on my stomach, and he positioned himself above me, aimed his dickhead, and pushed. And it hurt like hell. No way was that going in. But he wouldn't give up. He kept spitting and pushing, and little by little he got the head in. I was fairly breathless by this time. "Wait," I begged him. "Don't move. Let me get used to it."

I made him hold still as my asshole adjusted to his enornimity. And all of a sudden, without warning, he thrusted. The bastard just slammed it in. All the way in, till I could feel his balls against mine. I screamed and felt excruciating pain. I thought I would die.

You bastard. I asked you to wait," I yelled.

"Just shut your fucking faggot mouth and take it like a man," he said wrapping his arms around me and beginning to plunge in and out. I could feel his hard balls against my own as he pressed into me. I could feel the scratching of his pubic hairs against my smooth buttcheeks.

"Owww. Owwww. Owww," I screamed, trying to struggle and push him off, but there was no way I could get out from under him. "Uggghhh. Ugggghhhh. Ugggghhhh," I moaned as it started to feel good. It was feeling better and better and my asshole was just clutching at his enormous dick and trying to hold it inside me every time he would withdraw it slightly. "Ugggghhh. Ugggghhhh. Uggggghhhh," I screamed. "Fuck me," I begged him. "Fuck my ass." What an incredible sensation. That thick hard flesh muscle stimulating my mucous membrances. Holy God. This was fantastic. "Fuck me," I begged him again. "Fuck my hot ass." And the thrusting created an ever-growing vacuum in my nether regions, which needed to be filled completely with steaming hot liquid. With Marco's thick viscous cum.

"Take it faggot. Take my big thick dick up your hot faggot ass. Make me cum in your hot faggot ass. I love to shoot my load into hot faggot asses like yours. You guys are better fucks than all those horny housewives I get every day. Take that dick, faggot!"

I should have been angry. I should have been furious. But this was turning me on so much. That's what I was. I was his faggot. And I needed his hot manload up my hot faggot ass. How come I hadn't known this before? "Fuck my faggot ass," I screamed raising it up to him as he plunged down, and I heard the slap slap slap of manflesh.

"CCCCCHHHHHHAAAAAA," he screamed as he let loose his Sicilian or Neapolitan semen in my hot faggot ass which drank it thirstily. My own semen shot out of my own body simultaneously. Again soiling my newly dry-cleaned blankets. Well. Back to the cleaner's. It had been worth it.

I wrote out my phone number for Marco and made sure that he tucked it safely inside his wallet before leaving. Then it was time for me to shower and get to work.

During the next several days I thought often about Marco. I thought often about Pete. I walked around my apartment wondering which appliance I could break next. I clearly needed a repairman. I clearly needed a man. Or many. What to do? What to do?

And then I started getting this idea. It kept growing and growing in my mind, and finally I picked up the phone and called Mona. This was going to be embarrassing, but Mona could possibly have the answer to my strange new problem.

"Hi. How's your tooth?" I asked.

"Getting better," she said. "But the crowns aren't in yet. I still have temps."

"Can I come up for a cup of coffee?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I still have temporary fillings. They could come loose. I can't help you."

"No. Not that," I explained. "I just want to talk. Can I come up for a cup of coffee?"

"I have no creamer," she said.

"I have," I answered.

"Well, okay," she agreed. "But just talk."

I went to my refrigerator and took out my pint of non-dairy creamer. I walked to the elevator and took it up to the fifth floor. I rang Mona's bell.

She was in a housedress with her hair in curlers, this time. No glamour

We went into the kitchen and she poured the coffee. I put some creamer in mine and passed her the pint.

"What is it?" she asked, more than a little curious. We stared at each other across her little kitchen table. I didn't know how to get started.

Finally she said, "Yes?"

"I don't know how to tell you this. It's a little embarrassing."

"Oh, come on now. What could be so embarrassing after all the times we've spent together?"

"Well," I started slowly, trying to find my words. "Remember a few weeks ago when I called you about my friend Pete?"

"The one with the 8-1/2 inches?"

"Yes.

"I remember," she said. "You had volunteered my services, right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"He was fixing my dishwasher, and we got to shooting the breeze, and I sort of mentioned what a great gal you were."

"And also what a great cocksucker?"

"Well, yes. I had mentioned that."

"I thought so," she nodded.

"And then you were on your way to the dentist, and Pete had this enormous hard-on, and he was really pissed off because I had really almost promised him the best blowjob he would ever have in this lifetime--"

"Thank you, I guess," she said.

"And I was feeling so guilty, and I didn't know what to do to make it better so...."

"So?"

"I offered to do it for him."

"You what?" Her coffee cup stopped in midair and she stared at me in amazement.

"I offered to suck him off, since you couldn't come down."

"And he agreed?"

"Yes."

"And you gave him head?

"Yes."

"I'm stunned," she commented.

"I was too. But remember you were always telling me how great it was ---to suck a cock? I couldn't imagine how anybody could like sucking a cock. I was thinking `ditsy women-they like to suck dick----yuch.' But then I sucked Pete's cock, just as a favor and------"

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, you were right. It was unbelievable. I loved it. It was just as great as you said it was."

"So now you know."

"Yes," I said. "I really loved it. And I did a great job too. You would have been so proud of me. I tried to do it just the way you do it. It was you who taught me what a good blowjob was, and I know I gave Pete a great blowjob."

She didn't know what to say, so she said, "That's wonderful. I guess maybe I'm like a drama coach whose student has just won the Oscar."

"Definitely," I assured her. But now the floodgates had opened and I had to tell her everything. "One other thing," I said.

Her coffee cup paused at her lip, waiting for the next bombshell. I continued.

"I also took it up the ass." The coffee cup started shaking in her hand. She set it down.

"You took it up the ass?"

"Yes," I admitted petulantly. "And I loved it."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You let Pete fuck you up the ass?"

"No. Not Pete. Marco."

"Who is Marco?" She questioned me.

"The cable repairman."

"Of course," she said, smiling at me kindly. "You have been busy."

"Actually not as busy as I'd like."

"I see," she said. But it was just an expression. She didn't see at all. She didn't see what a faggot slut I had become. "But why are you telling me all this?" She asked me. That's what was confusing her. She really didn't want to listen to my lurid confessional. I don't think she really wanted to know all the little details of my recent forays into gay sex.

So I got right to the point and presented it to her. "That's why I was wondering," I continued.

"What were you wondering?"

"Do you think you might ever be able to use me at one of those bachelor parties you cater?" I had been thinking of those bachelor parties for a while now. All that wild, tipsy, bachelor cock needing satisfaction, needing release. An endless line of priapic bachelors and their buddies eager to enter any orifice. It would be fun. It would be fulfilling. And I might even make a buck.