Connie In A Catalina

There was this girl named Connie. I'd seen her for years, and she worked the checkout at the new Foodliner supermarket on Fairmount Drive. She had cinnamon colored hair, lustrous and gleaming. She usually wore it in a thick, twisting ponytail, tied with pink ribbons. With her round face, snubby nose, and bright green eyes, she looked like a trade mark doll version of the All-American girl. I asked her out. I wanted to make her mine. I began to plan the perfect date.

Then my friend told me that she was a slut.

"Not just a slut," he said. "THE slut. She went to Catholic school. She was the biggest whore at Mount St. Mary's."

"You're lying," I said.

"Ask the whole football team. She was the blowjob princess of the high school. Always in the backseat of a car after games."

"Bullshit." I did not want to believe him.

"It's all true." He gave me a shrug... it looked like a cruel gesture of dismissal. "She was well known. She loved her bite-jobs. She swallowed...everything."

Strange emotions took hold of me. I'd talked to Connie maybe six times, and she'd always seemed so sweet. She had a calm, gentle face, the kind of face you never think of a vixen having. Her features were round, smooth, slightly pudgy, with a snubby uptilted nose... the face of an innocent schoolgirl. The only realy striking feature were her eyes. Bright green they were, glowing green. Emerald green sparkling with diamond splinters. Blowjobs? Could it be true?

Images were stuck in my mind. I kept expanding them. There was Connie, in the back seat of a car, stroking a large, swollen cock with her delicate hands. I saw Connie push the cock past her lips. I heard her greedy sucking noises as she licked and sucked the length of it. I could hear her soft purring sounds, I could see that little pink tongue flashing out in the dark.

For days one scene kept repeating, like a looped segment of film: big, swollen cocks squirting in Connie's face. I couldn't shake it. Connie's pudgy face smeared with cum. Thick, pearl-colored syrup. Over and over. Twenty, thirty different cocks.

My fantasy always ended with Connie being dropped off at home, walking into her house with a cum-stained plaid skirt.

At first the images I created disturbed me. Then I realized how excited I was getting. I didn't deny it. I wanted her to be a whore. I wanted her to be my slut. Just the idea of being next to her, knowing she had sucked so many cocks, thrilled me to no end.

Connie told me she liked movies, that she loved going to the Sky-Line Drive In. I asked her to go on Saturday night. All Saturday morning I worked on my 1957 Pontiac Catalina. I washed it, waxed the outside. Then I bought chrome polish for the dash board, wiped down the vinyl, vacuumed the seats. I was going to treat her like the princess she was. The blow-job princess.

That afternoon I began to worry. I kept going back to Connie and her cocks.I took a drive past Mt. St. Mary's school. I remembered how the girls always looked so tantalizingly delicious, so dangerous and forbidden in their plaid uniforms. I pictured Connie walking past the concrete shrines in the churchyard, her skirt a little too short. Maybe she wore the same skirt while giving blowjobs. Maybe if you snuck to some lonely place in the courtyard, and kissed her secretly, you could taste somebody's cum on her lips. Of course, I'd never know....Connie had graduated three years ago...but was she still the same?

It was only the middle of May; the nights were cool. When I picked Connie up she was wearing a fluffy wool jacket. Underneath she had on a tight sweater, where I could make out only the bulk of her breasts, but not the shape. Her hair was done up in a thick braid, which wrapped around the back of her head. She wore white canvas sneakers. Women always seemed to keep their sneakers bright and clean. A cute little touch was her white socks, ankle socks, with a ruffled pink border on the top. Cute, but slightly ridiculous.

She talked a lot, about things she thought were funny. That was a relief, I didn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing. You know, the way it is when you're trying to be clever, but it comes out all wrong...anyway, she smelled good. She smelled of laundry soap and ivory soap and cheap drugstore perfume. The scent was like lilacs, heavy, concentrated lilacs, not overpowering, but just enough to mingle with that weird natural cinnamon smell women give off sometimes. I liked it. The inside of the Pontiac smelled delicious for once.

The drive in movie was not very crowded because the season had only just begun. I had planned things out; I found a great location right on the edge of the parking area. We were alone in a sea of gravel.

"I love coming here," Connie said. "I love this place. I came all the time when I was a junior."

"What movies did you see?" I asked.

She seemed to think the question was very funny.

"Movies? How should I know?" She had kind of a deep laugh. In fact, her voice was deep, and slightly hoarse, which made for an interesting contrast with her angelic face.

"Well, didn't you come to watch movies?" I felt very clever, asking this.

"Maybe..." She laughed again. "Did YOU watch movies here?"

I put my arm around her, trying to get as close as I could to those tight, wrapped up breasts. Her hair smelled of coconut shampoo. She turned herself toward me so that I could feel the heat rising up out of her. Her breath was sweet...it smelled of melting sugar, coming from way inside. I felt a painful stirring between my legs.

Trying to be gentlemanly, I went to the snack bar to buy her snacks. She was a greedy little bitch: a box of Sno_caps, a hot dog with ketchup, french fries, a jumbo lemonade (she didn't drink Coke, strange girl.) and some bubble gum.

I kissed her while she ate. Kissing her with Sno-Caps was especially nice. The discs of dark chocolate melted between our mouths, and the little white sugar beads skated over our tongues. It was very sweet, and we ate the whole box that way, trading bittersweet chocolate juice and beads, letting our tongues get all tangled and messy.

In the middle of one long kiss she suddenly pulled back, plucking her lips from mine with a sharp sucking sound. Her eyes were glowing from the light from the screen.

"I bet I can kiss you like you never been kissed before." she said it with a hint of menace in her voice.

"How so?"

"You're not too smart are ya? You don't know much about girls!"

I was hungry for her sweet mouth again and pulled her toward me, but she twisted her head to the side and my lips fell against her warm neck. I breathed in her cinnamon scent and opened my eyes. Audie Murphy was riding across the desert twenty yards away. A man in the rocks above him was about to shoot him with a rifle. Suddenly Connie's hand was on my thigh, her fingers groping between my legs. She turned toward me and I was staring straight into her sparkling eyes. I was too close to tell whether she was smiling or not. All I knew is that we both started breathing hard.

I could feel her finger tips grabbing at my zipper and she drew it downwards, smooth and slow. My heart started pounding like a jackhammer. I pushed my face closer, trying to kiss those sweet chocolate smeared lips again, but again she twisted her head to the side. Now her fingers were digging through layers of cotton.

I looked up and Audie Murphy had his six-shooter out and was crawling across the rocks. Someone aimed at him, fired and missed. For a brief second I was worried for Audie.

Now I felt Connies fingertips closing gently around my painfully swollen cock. She was easing it out from the folds of cloth, and I could instinctively feel she was getting frantic. She needed my cock! Needed it! She was almost desperate! Now she was bending down slowly. I felt the top of her head brush against my face, then her scented flowing ponytail slid over my mouth. I closed my eyes for a second. I thought I was in paradise. She sighed deeply and then I felt her full weight across my thighs.

Her mouth wasn't too warm...it was strangely cool. Maybe it was the lemonade. Wet and cool. Her tongue wrapped lovingly around my cock, and I could feel her cool, sweet saliva running over the shaft. She made a soft purring sound. I gritted my teeth and exhaled sharply. Now she was moving her head slowly, ever so slowly, over my engorged hard on. With a gentle rythym she began bobbing up and down, her shiny ponytail swaying against the dark dashboard.

The smell of her, the smell of the candy, the lemonade, the soap, all combined to create an essence that overpowered my senses to the point of frenzy. I didn't want to close my eyes for fear of missing a split second of this heavenly experience. Connie was mine! Whore or not, I wanted her always to be mine! She was my little whore-doll. I wanted everyone to know it. For some strange reason, I half wanted the kids in neighboring cars to be watching us. I wanted everyone to watch me and my little doll-whore.

The sensation was too much. I was starting to lose control. Connie was taking it from me. Through some weird psychic connection, in the silence of the Catalina, me and Connie both knew I would always belong to her, and she would always be in control. I started to gasp.

On the screen, Audie Murphy had finally snuck up behind the villain. The bad man whirled around with his rifle, but he was too late. Audie shot him at point blank range. At the same time I exploded into Connie's mouth. Thick, hot cum spewed out at a fantastic rate...I exhaled again, louder this time, and felt my legs go numb. Connie plucked my cock out of her mouth and looked up, her emerald eyes smoldering. There was just a trace of gleaming cum across her pudgy upper lip.

"That was good," Connie whispered. "how long do you think before you can do it again?"

"In a few minutes," I answered, truthfully. "John Wayne's coming on next."