Murray's tavern was a bit of an oddball. It was located in what was a bustling commercial and industrial district that fell due to economic depression and the departure of big business. What was a busy downtown soon became a barren neighborhood where large ambitious buildings were abandoned, and then claimed by locals to be turned into modest businesses. Murray's tavern was on the ground floor of a four story unoccupied office building. While it had the character of a local dingy and shabby bar, it had the vast square footage of a former five-star gourmet restaurant. At the height of its use, patrons are dispersed across the tavern no less than 12 feet from each other, ordering unsavory, greasy appetizers and a selection of only five beers.
However, the heart of Murray's Tavern's business was neither the food nor the drinks, but rather the bathroom. Like the tavern itself, the bathroom was reclaimed from a building that was meant to service hundreds of office workers. Its sweeping floor area was lined with rows and rows of bathroom stalls, which were then converted into the town's assembly line for bargain blowjobs and anonymous rendezvous's with strangers. Every other door had a number scribbled in black sharpie to denote the woman waiting inside.
I'll be honest, I had been a regular patron at Murray's. It became a quick release from a tiring blue collar career in a very simple town. After a long hard day, you would enter Murray's, pay the bartender a nominal fee, pick a stall and receive a good sucking. I had been a regular at Murray's to the point where the bartender would kindly offer me tips as to which number stall I should try for the night. I also had been a regular at Murray's to the point where all the blowjobs had begun to mesh into one.
Sometimes, I would lose track of the lips around my cock, and peek under the gap of the divider that separated me from the woman in the next stall. The only visual of the mystery women was that of their legs, knees and feet conveniently resting on the floor while they sucked me anonymously from next door. Typically, the women's thick thighs were dressed in old tattered pants and dated frumpy shoes. I couldn't help, but to picture an elder woman next door sowing her wild oats with the town's men suffering from fatigue and boredom. Don't get me wrong, it was usually a good blow, but as I was young myself, I felt like I had my own oats to sow.
After a rough stretch at work, it had to have been at least two weeks since I last visited Murray's. It was Friday night, and I knew I was backed up; both mentally and physically. After dining on some horrid food and a few sips of cheap beer, I paid my fee with the bartender, who kindly smiled and said, "Try stall 43. New girl. Everyone loves her."
I slowly strolled past several aisles toward the end of the bathroom, counting the number of feet I saw under the stall doors. Most of the stalls were occupied by working ladies sitting idly on cracked toilets, patiently waiting for a customer. I finally got to the last aisle, and walked down toward stall 43. A man was just leaving, struggling to organize his unbuttoned pants. He wore a smile from ear to ear almost as if he were emitting a silent laugh.
As I approached stall 43, I couldn't help but to notice the small feet under the door, very petite sporting glittery fashionable flats, delicately folded over each other as she sat on the toilet. As I entered the stall next to it, my pleasant curiosity turned to confusion. This stall was different than the others: it had three holes. The center hole was like that of the others, a modest sized cutout wrapped sloppily with gray duct tape. Immediately to the left and right of the center hole were two abnormally larger ones, crudely cut and wide enough to fit a basketball through.
I locked the door behind me, and casually slipped two fingers into the large right hole to signal that I was ready. I heard a soft giggle from the stall next to me, and saw two tiny fingers slip through the center hole as if to correct me which opening to use.
As the lights at the end of the bathroom began to flicker from years of neglect, I expected a quick session before I could retire early for the night. I unzipped, and slowly slid my soft cock through the center hole as directed. Expecting a handjob to bring me to hardness, I was surprised to feel a quick and sudden wet enveloping, with firm lips wrapping deep onto my rod with no hesitation. After that initial jolt, my arousal had been peaked as the mystery woman in the next stall moved her lips rapidly up and down my now rockhard member. It was the perfect blend of moist lubrication and firm pressure, making sure every last inch of me was coated with her saliva from the head to the base while using her lips as if she were trying to pull my dick right from my body. Her tongue flickered arbitrarily, as if to tease me and have me guessing as to when I would feel it again on the underside of my shaft. My dick never left the warmth of her mouth, not even for air. Among all of this, I could hear the woman softly humming and moaning from the delight of my rod filling her mouth as if it were a savory dish.
After two weeks of tension and build-up, I was set to violently explode right into the mouth of the woman in stall 43. I gripped the top of the stall's divider with both hands, clenched my buttocks and thrusted myself deeper into the stranger next door. However, my aggression was matched as I felt the woman lunge forward, deepthroating to the very base of my cock, lips clamping down to create a powerful suction, making sure that every last bit of my load hit the back of her throat. The greater I pulsed from orgasm, the stronger she sucked, each burst of cum being inhaled immediately. It was the best blowjob I ever had.
I twitched and exhaled, content with the service I had just received. As I began to slide back, conceding that I had indeed finished, two tiny hands darted from the larger holes and around my backside. They gripped each of my cheeks with assertive f***e and tore me back toward the wall that separated us as if she wanted me through the 1" plastic divider.
She was not done with me.
Stuck in a bear hug, I was left in utter shock as the woman continued sucking me intensely. Mentally, my arousal was peaked by the mystery woman next door. Physically, my penis was stuck between returning to its flaccid state and recovering its stiff form for another round. As she felt my cock go limp, her tiny fingers dawning an immaculate french manicure dug deeper into my ass to the brink of breaking skin. She tried pulling me closer and closer despite there being no where to move. Her mouth began to move even faster than before, this time with her tongue moving and swirling around nonstop as her mouth went up and down around my knob.
My body gave in, and I was once again hard as stone for my second blowjob, this one more intense than the first. The quicker tempo created louder slurping sounds from the next stall, mixing with her moans which have also intensified. Up and down and up again over the entire length of me. Every time her mouth moved toward me, I could feel her lips and gums glide over every throbbing vein on my rod. Every time her mouth moved back, I would feel the slight tug from her suck. Her rhythm never changed. It didn't have to. The relentless velocity of her mouth over my cock remained perpetual hoping I would erupt once more.
After bursting from my first go-around, I struggled to pump any more semen into her mouth as I labored for another cumming. As I began to pulse from orgasm once again, she peeled of my dick. This time, she met my orgasm with a more delicate approach, gently resting the crown of my dick on the top of tongue while using the tip of her tongue to gently tickle the veiny underside of my shaft.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," I could hear her moan from next door as if I was her human tongue depressor at the doctor's.
Her left hand moved slowly up and down, ringing out any last bit of cream I had left in me onto the surface of her tongue. As I quivered uncontrollably from the multiple orgasms us men were not supposed to have, she left a tiny kiss on the very tip of my cock. I felt her soft wet lips momentarily stick to my urethra, where the residual cum still oozing out clinged to her kisser like glue sticking to velvet. She finally released me, and I returned to my stall panting heavily, searching for air.
"Thank you," she muttered in a very sweet and elated voice.
Is this right? Did she just thank me? Did she just thank me as if she were the paying customer receiving all the pleasure?
As you can imagine, it wasn't even a full 24 hours until I was back at Murray's. It was Saturday afternoon when I returned, well before happy hour had even begun. I skipped any unsavory food and drinks this time around, and approached the bartender with my fee. Without any words, he smiled and nodded to confirm that the woman I was seeking was indeed there.
I traveled through the bathroom, this time in a half jog to stall 43. As I got there, I once again arrived as two men were exiting the stall, both wearing that same smile from the gentleman I saw yesterday, both of which undressed below the waist trying to gather themselves as they exited. I couldn't help but to notice the size of these men, horse-like in length with the girth to match. Before slipping their mammoth schlongs back into their trousers, I also saw that their dicks had an apparent shimmer to them. Even in the shoddy lighting of a neglected bathroom, the gleaming sparkle from spit and saliva was unmistakeable. She had deepthroated them both.
I entered the stall next to 43, and noticed from the gap under the divider that she was still on her knees from her previous session with the two men. I quickly locked the door, and slipped my fingers through the center hole requesting another round before she could even stand to collect herself. To my excitement, she agreed and I slipped my cock through the center hole, this time fully erect and ready for her. Once again, I heard that familiar giggle as she sensed my restlessness and enthusiasm for another blowjob.
She did not wait this time around to embrace me as she stuck her own tiny hands through the two large side holes to clutch and pin me to the divider before slipping my cock into her mouth. Despite all lack of surprises from the night before, the sucking was as good as ever. Her mouth moved in long strides over me. Her suction was so strong, it caused her cheeks to cave onto the sides of my rod creating a tighter fit in her mouth. As she peeled her head back to focus on the head of my cock, I could feel the long drips of spit cascade from the underside of my shaft to the floor, only to be re-coated once more as she deepthroated me again and again. I came. I could hear her hum with satisfaction as each burst of my load shot into her mouth, only to hear an emphatic gulp to let me know where it had gone.
Rather than release me, she stuck her arms further through the two side holes where I was now in a full hug, her entire forearms wrapped around my backside pulling me closer and through the divider. Her tongue was the star in round 2. It wrapped around from the bottom to the top. She pointed the tip to drag it along the bottom, only to flatten it to cover the entire base of the head. Each vein throbbed as it felt the sensation of sticky velvet skip through it. Delicate flicks turned into aggressive swallowing of my knob, as she would once again deepthroat me at random, as if to re-moisten the entire length of me once again. I came again. Her audible sounds of satisfaction mixed with giggles as she once again gulped her reward.
Her hands had traveled up my back, fingernails digging deeper to try one last attempt to pull me through. She returned to a full mouth pleasuring, moving fast like before. Now, I can feel her head rotate as it traveled to and fro. Her motion stopped when the tip of my cock hit her esophagus, gargling to add even more sensation to the end of my dick. I came yet again.
"Mmmmmmmmm", she purred as I oozed out one more load.
I was draining fast, and in need of assistance. She sandwiched the tip of my cock between her lips, and sucked loudly any last bit of cream like it was a lollipop. After 3 rounds of orgasms in succession, I was once again exhausted and depleted of fluids. I dressed, and readied myself to leave. Before I could exit, she chuckled and murmured, "Thanks again". She remembered me from the night before.
I returned home feeling fully satisfied and accomplished. I reveled in my sexual high, lounging with not a care or concern in the world. I was happy. However, as that Saturday went on, it began to fade and fade to the point of melancholy. It was at that point that I realized I was addicted. I had no choice but to return to Murray's.
And that's where I am now, returning to the source of my mystery woman.
I rush through the doors of the tavern, and literally throw my fee at the bartender with not even so much of an acknowledgement or greeting. I traverse through the bathroom in a full sprint. From a distance, I can see the feet of the woman in stall 43 standing by her door as if she were ready to leave. I frantically bumrush the stall next to hers, rudely knocking on the divider instead of the cordial finger request. Despite the commotion, she kindly responds, "Sorry hun, I'm done for tonight."
At this point, I have already begun to hastily disrobe, so I plead with her for just one more session. With some reserve, she agrees, and I stumble to slip my cock through the hole.
"You again?" she replies in a seemingly exasperated tone before standing, opening the door to her stall and exiting.
Had I gone too far? Had I broken some cardinal rule? Had I ruined a good thing? As I stand in disbelief, with the sharp pain of rejection, a head pops over the door of the stall in which I'm in.
I find myself staring at a young woman, not a day over 20 years old, staring back at me with my pants below my knees. She has dark hair with a slight curl that extends just past her shoulders. Her thick swollen pink lips are arranged as a huge cheesy smiley where her eyes squint and her tiny nose wrinkles.
"Hi!" she says sharply.
She maintains her smile, but her expression softens, revealing more of her eyes and the subtle shade of eyeliner, the only makeup on her face. Tiny faded freckles replace the wrinkle on her nose. She has a light tan complexion like that of Mediterranean descent.
Sensing that words are still far from my tongue, she hops down from her birds eye view, and slips in through the door. Damn, I left it unlocked. She cautiously enters, sliding in and around the tight quarters as she tries to avoid me and the swinging stall door. While her attire accentuates her perfect young figure, it is completely void of any provocativeness. She's wearing a delicate blouse, loose at the bottom but tight at the top to reveal two perky mounds holding themselves up on their own. She's wearing skin tight jeans, cut off just below the knee which silhouettes her curve from her hips to her ankles. Her unassuming appearance looks more like she could on her way to class or work or some uneventful function, not sucking the juice out of dozens of men in one night in a derelict bathroom of a seedy bar.
At this point, the bl**d has escaped my cock, and I still stand there in bewilderment, pants still down to my knees. Millions of thoughts race through my head, but none more than how this mystery woman has far exceeded my fantasies in appearance and beauty.
"Huu....Umm.. Weh....Errr...Hah.....Wha...?" In a state of disbelief at the young girl in front of me, I struggle to correctly make out a single word let alone a sentence. Her bubbly cheesy smile returns, her eyes difficult to distinguish from squinting yet again. She tries to respond to what I may or may not have asked.
"My name is Elisabetta... But my friends call me Lizzie," she declares proudly.
Elisabetta? Is that Italian or Greek? Maybe Croatian? Mind mind is wandering, almost trying to escape from the embarrassment I know I am creating. Maybe I'll ask her.
"Wheh...?" That's the best I can muster.
She chuckles at my awkwardness. "I am from Greenville," she responds.
I'm puzzled as Greenville is maybe a 7 hour drive from here, and far more refined than this rinky dink town. This awkward exchange continues on and on with her providing long and rather banal explanations to my half word inquiries. She rambles on, glowing with youthful enthusiasm with each response. I almost forget where we are as well as the fact I am still half nude, now limp and dangling before her. Her giddiness never subsides, one smile being replaced my a larger one as she boasts of her school, her f****y, her friends, her favorite music and food she dislikes the most. I find myself knowledgeable in her most juvenile of facts. This girl is so innocent, so unassuming like every other young girl her age. I collect myself, and try to fight through mr own the state of confusion. I had just one more question for her.
"Why?" The one word I am able to say correctly.
Her giddy, bubbly smile fades as her expression straightens. She assertively stares me in the eyes, one eye brow raised.
"Because....." She bites half of her lower lip. "Because I love being a cock slut."
Floored by her response, I am suddenly reminded where I am.
"Well?", she asks.
"Well, what?" I question.
She points behind me toward the toilet that had been long drained of any water, but still retains the copper tinge of hardwater stains. I awkwardly waddle over as my pants droop down to my ankles with every shuffle. I sit down on the edge of the toilet seat, situating my knees to point outward for easier access to my bare crotch. I then turn to face the girl, but she is no longer looking in my eyes. Her bubbly expression has all but vanished, now replaced by a quiet focus and determination, her stare never diverting from the dangling flesh between my thighs.
She slowly walks toward me, her hips gyrating with every prolonged step, until her knees face my waist. Her eyes remain fixated on one thing with not even so much of a blink as she lowers herself to her knees in front of me. Once kneeling on the floor, she adjusts herself by crawling backward where I can see her ass prop up like an upside down heart. She's now on all fours, her hands to the ground creating a slight arch in her back.
Raising her right hand from the floor, she places it on my chest, firmly guiding my torso backward until I felt the cold sting of the stainless steel toilet backing between my shoulder blades. She drags her right hand down to my leg while lifting her left hand and placing it on the other leg. She rubs the inside of my thighs while simultaneously pushing them out further until both of my knees are almost scr****g each wall of the toilet restroom stall. She pauses for a moment as if to admire the unobstructed view to the content from my spread eagle stance.
She emits one last giggle, cut short as her lower lips drops in a drooling expression. She wets her upper lip using her tongue to slowly glide over her supple pink lip as if to savor this very moment. Both of her hands move in sync from my inner thighs to the base of my hardening dick. She grabs my rod with her fingers, pulls it upward from its dangling position and rests it just below my navel. We're now staring at each other's face. She lowers her head between my thighs, keeping her eyes fixated on my own in a tempting manner. After one more pause, she sticks out her tongue, and slips it below the seam of my balls.
In one long but slow motion, she drags her fleshy tongue through my sack and up the underside of my cock, firmly applying pressure throughout while staring in my eyes. Higher and higher her tongue travels as I can feel myself harden with every millimeter traveled by her tongue. I'm as hard as steel as the textured padding of her tongue reaches the undersized of my head. She never blinks, just glaring intently at my flinching expressions. In one continuous motion, she goes from a protruding tongue to a full mouth gulp as she descends on my penis with her mouth. Eyes still wide open staring at my own, she reaches as far as she can go with the full length of my dick completely lost in the depths of her cheeks. With her upper lip pushing against the base of my penis and her lower lip pushing against my balls, she pauses and rests, still looking upward for my expression. This must be new to her as she never gets to experience her customer's reactions through the divider.
As my cock pulses, I can feel it scratch the back of her throat. Yet she remains still, if only to tease me about her next move. Keeping me entirely in her mouth, she places both of her hands on my hips, pressing down to pin me against the seat of the toilet. Her cheeks depress as I feel the yank on my organ through her sucking. With my waist locked under the weight of her arms, her head finally ascends from her deepthroated position. Slowly. Painfully slowly. Which each inch of my rod that exposes itself from beyond her lips, it begins to sparkle from the moisture left from her mouth. Finally she reaches the tip where she dislodges for a brief moment, a string of saliva still connected from the head of my cock to the bottom of her lip.
She takes a deep breath, opens her mouth wide again and descends for another slow throatjob. As she ascends again, the tug of my cock is even stronger as she tries to inhale it from my torso while she continues to push down upon my waist with her hands. Down. Then Up. Down. Then up. Her pace is tortuous and slow as I begin to writhe in intense pleasure.
Unable to cope, I run both of my hands through her curly dark hair, and grab the back of her head. She does not object as I forcibly push her mouth down harder and faster. Her pace begins to quicken as her lips continue yo-yo nonstop around my cock. I toss my head back, and close my eyes attempting to delay the inevitable, but my reaction has her peaked. She blows faster and faster, harder and harder. The slurping noise intensifies from the increased friction between my flesh and her tightening mouth. She resorts to random pauses in deepthroat, her face buried into my stomach as my long cock sc****s the back of her throat, simultaneously extending her tongue to lap the saliva that has pooled on my sack. She wasn't able to do this through a hole in the wall.
Closing in on climax, I pull out from her mouth, and jump to my feet. I look down to admire her pretty face, still looking smitten from enjoying my cock without a barrier between us. I tilt her head back, and rest my dick on the tip of her nose pointed at the brow of her face while she smiles and stares back into my eyes. She plays along, grabbing and jerking with both hands, her left and right twisting in opposite directions for a greater sensation. I try and fight it one last time, but it only makes my seizure stronger. A long thick stream spurts directly on her forehead. Bullseye. A second nearly hits the same spot.
"Nice shot, baby," she whispers, keeping her eyes open despite the continuous burst of projectiles toward her face.
A third and fourth blast coats the bridge of her nose. Another cumshot. Then another. And another until the distinct puddles merge into one pool of thick white jam on the middle of her face, partially dripping from the tip of her nose.
"More," she demands, ringing her tongue around the head of my cock despite my violent spasms.
As my cum continues to drip down her nose and cheeks, I see in her facial expression how she is mesmerized by my current vulnerability. Noticing the sensitive state of my shaft as it tries to recover, she pulls it out of her mouth, focusing on my sack. She uses her tongue to clean my balls, using a mixed repertoire of long soft strokes and deep circular wiping, before inserting as much as she can in her mouth to suck and nibble. She moans and slurps, as bubbles begin to foam on the wrinkles of my scrotum from her salivation.
She takes my cock back into her mouth. I begin to feel faint as my knees start to quiver. She runs her right hand up the back of my thigh, and clasps my buttocks firmly once more to pull me closer to the back of her throat. With her left hand, she cups my balls to pull them closer to the front. As she descends for another deep suck, she curls her tongue out upon her chin reaching my scrotum tasting every last fold of skin of my nuts she can reach.
As she descends to gag once more, her lower jaw attempts to stretch to accommodate both shaft and balls, using her left hand to shove my sack into her already filled mouth. Unable to fit much more, her left hand begins to massage my nuts instead, each squeeze intensifying with pleasurable pain. After one last full palming and squeezing, her left hand releases my scrotum, and travels up my backside where her right hand is still clutching and hugging. With both hands, she thrusts me toward her mouth.
I grip the top of the dividers to my right and left with my hands like vices to help prop myself from failing knees. I squeeze the plastic walls harder and harder until my arms begin to vibrate. By now, the entire bathroom is echoing from the commotion in our stall. Whispers from the idle women in the bathroom can be heard, admiring the session that is currently taking place between us.
The warm cum on her face continues to drip down. I can feel the cum on her nose stick below my navel as she smashes her face downward onto my rod over and over. Her moans grow louder and louder where they now overpower my heavy breathing. The voices in the bathroom grow louder, as I notice the assembly of the women's shoes just outside of our stall door to investigate. Lizzie's moans grow louder as I see my cock stretching her inner cheeks. Finally, I arch my back, thrust my hips into her mouth and scream up toward the ceiling from my orgasm. Each burst of cum is immediately gulped before the next shot can land.
I look down at my pleasurer and see that she, too, has climaxed from my cum in her mouth. She slowly pulls back, dragging her lips across the flesh in her mouth. Then, another tender cock kiss. Her warm innocent smile returns, this time juxtaposed on a face lathered in long thick streams of semen.
"I never get to see the faces of the men I suck," she admits. "This was so amazing. I can see why you keep coming back, baby."
She rises to her feet and adjusts her blouse. I find myself incapable of speech yet again, unable to thank her for another mind blowing blowjob. I could die a happy man.
"Time to clean up," she giggles catching on large drip of cum falling from her nose.
"Thanks again," she says flirtatiously before spinning around and reaching for the stall door.
As soon as she swings the door open, I rush and push it closed with my left hand. She turns toward me again with a raised eyebrow, startled by my assertion but also intrigued at my insatiable appetite. In less than 24 hours, I had received mind altering blowjob after blowjob from the slut of my dreams. I knew it wouldn't be long until I craved her once again.
I grasp her left hand, feeling her fingers curl back into my own. I pull her toward the back of her stall, directing her to the toilet. I rest both of my hands on her hips, and stroke them slightly before gently guiding her to a seat on the toilet. She looks confused, but willing as she rests on the seat, knees together and hands to her side. I get down on my knees, and place my hand on her shoulder to slowly push her backward into a lounging position. As she sits there stunned, I hook both of her ankles, pulling them up from the ground and resting them on my shoulders. I notice her bite her lower lip in acceptance, I lower my head toward her waist before I reach unbutton her pants. I take one last pause, and stare deeply in her eyes.
"Now it's your turn..."
Posted by cornball 1 year ago Views: