Told You So

Authors Note - When I looked to post this story I really wanted to put it under an Oral Sex category as it's all about the power of a good cocksucker. But, sadly the good old BJ has become so sexually passé as to be rendered obsolete in categories. Well, this one is dedicated to the awesome cocksuckers out there; I don't think you're passé at all.

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Four years at UCLA, two years at Stanford Journalism Grad School, beating thousands of other students for the privilege of interning at the New York Times. All her savings, sleepless nights, hard work and what,

what

did she have to show for it?

Blow Jobs.

Uh huh.

Her first by line, the very first time she'd be paid to see her name in print would be smack bang under the headline 'Give THE Best Blow Jobs!'

A proud moment for her parents—definitely one for the scrapbook.

When Nikki had imagined herself a journalist she envisioned herself in the Woodward and Bernstein vein—an investigative powerhouse uncovering treasonous acts and dastardly business fraud. Pulitzer potential.

Never.

Never

had she thought that her first act of research as a professional journalist would be to type the words '

how to give the best blow job'

into Google. What did it say about the appalling state of humanity that in a .23.4 second search 23, 421, 327 results appeared?

Obsessed, that's what it said. The whole stupid world was completely obsessed with sex. Not her though, not Nikki Fletcher. She didn't worship at the altar of lust. She was concerned with truth, hard work and diligence—things that actually mattered. And so even though it rankled, even though this article would

never

join her Curriculum Vitae she was determined to write the most comprehensive article on oral sex the world had ever seen. Clicking on a random link she recoiled as a high def full color picture of a woman hit with a face full of cum dominated her 22 inch screen.

"Oh! My! GOD!"

Nikki hadn't realized she'd said the words out loud until she heard the chuckle from the doorway. It was Mitchell Hayes, the journalist with whom she shared her office. He was lounging against the door frame and openly laughing at her shocked face. Technically, Nikki shared his office as he was her mentor and the more senior journalist but when Mitchell was out of the room—as he so often was—she liked to pretend it was all hers.

"Now that's quite a load," Mitchell said in his world weary journalist voice. The calm, measured, slightly bored tone that seemed to unleash Nikki's internal scream. Of course he didn't sound shocked. Nothing shocked him. Mitchell's assignment for the upcoming edition of Aphrodite magazine was on the plight of women in war torn Afghanistan.

No searching porn sites for him,

Nikki thought with completely unprofessional resentment. As an award winning journalist with ten years experience Mitchell would no doubt do an outstanding job. She should've been grateful for having such a prestigious mentor, but the problem was that while Mitchell was a great journalist he was a pretty lousy mentor.

The sum total of Mitchell's mentoring in the last three months Nikki had been employed at Aphrodite had been a few grunts, innumerable sighs and lots of weary head shaking. Oh, and the absolutely stellar advice, '

You're trying too hard

.' Mitchell saw her as a burden, a try hard imposition on his

oh so

valuable time.

"I heard you got the Blow Job assignment," Mitchell said not bothering to hide the smirk in his voice. He pushed off the doorframe and flopped into the nearest chair, pulling it up until it butted against the legs of Nikki's desk.

"I'm sure you did," Nikki grit out between clenched teeth. Of course he was laughing at her, no doubt the whole office was laughing about it. She'd seen their faces at the Editorial Meeting, none of them even bothered to hide their glee.

Little Miss Frigid

writing about blow jobs.

She knew what they called her, she just didn't care. Nikki was here to work not get involved in the never ending sexual play of the office staff. If that made her 'frigid', well, too bad! She didn't care. Really she didn't.

What was she missing anyway? A few gropes ending in fairly ordinary messy sex. She'd done that at college. Sex was pointless.

Absolutely pointless.

"So you're researching," Mitchell said with a nod to her computer screen.

Nikki hadn't changed the picture. She'd left the ecstatic cum-splattered face on her screen. Quite deliberately. He wasn't going to shame her or make her uncomfortable. She was a professional doing her job with pride—even if that job did entail trawling porn websites.

"Yes I am," Nikki answered, trying hard to infuse her tone with the right mix of steely professionalism and disdain for his obvious question.

"Is it just internet research or will you be taking a more

personal

approach?"

She didn't rise to the bait, instead turning to face him, meeting his laughing gray eyes with a steely stare. "Well the initial research will be conducted here and then I'll hit the streets...of course."

He choked slightly and brought his hand up to cover his mouth. She'd rattled him a little and it made her glad.

"Aaaah...hit the streets?" he questioned in a slightly strangled voice.

"Miss Kitty's," Nikki answered, speaking of the sex shop one block down from the Aphrodite offices. On her walk to work from the bus stop she passed the shop every day. There, Nikki thought she could get a professional opinion on the commercial aspects of oral sex.

"Ah, Miss Kitty's," Mitchell said moving his hand down to rub his chin, "A wonderful establishment. Have you been there before?"

"No. Of course not. I've had no reason."

"No reason?"

The questioning tone made Nikki realize she'd just admitted to having no sex life. Which was true but still, it wasn't something she wanted shouted about—not to Mitchell Hayes.

He looked at her; she met his gaze until she could no longer stand to be the focus of his amusement and turned away.

"So I'd better get back to it," Nikki said motioning towards her computer screen.

"Yeah," Mitchell replied, leaning in to look closer at the 22 inch wide cum covered lips over her shoulder. She could feel his breath against her ear. It was hot and smelled of mint and man. It made her uncomfortable, so she leaned forward and clicked another link—desperate to be doing something other than feeling the nearness of him.

Her screen filled instantly with a picture of a man sprawled on a two seater couch not unlike the one that sat under the window of their office. Between his legs, on her knees was a blond woman, her mouth lowered to suck at his erect penis. She wore a gray skirt, hiked up over her butt to reveal lacy white panties and thigh high stockings. Nikki pretended to be intent on the text that accompanied the picture, picking up her pen as if to write notes. The words floated in front of her eyes; really she was just trying to occupy her shaking hands. She wanted to turn off the screen and run from the room. Get away. Get away from Mitchell and the strange clenching feeling the picture had unfurled deep in her stomach.

"Well then, I'll leave you to your research. I only came in to get my jacket. Oh, and remember what I always say, the best research is conducted in the field not on screen." He stood up, laughed and pushed back the chair. In four easy steps he had his jacket and was out the door. Leaving. Again.

* * * *

While Nikki had in no way believed herself to be some kind of sexual aficionado, the on line research she'd conducted had quite frankly (pun intended) blown her mind. Before pointing mouse to screen she'd been under the impression that fellatio was the simple act of putting mouth to penis until orgasm. Because of that assumption she'd been sure that filling three thousand words on blow jobs was going to be a stretch, but now, after a day on-line she wasn't sure where she could fit all her research. There was just so much out there, music, art, movies, taboo, fetishism, feminism, history and a whole commercial industry dedicated to oral sex.

Which was why she was here today, standing outside the flashing neon lights of Miss Kitty's instead of continuing on in her usual way to work. She needed an insider's perspective, a professional to whittle down the information to the essential.

Nikki took a deep breath and opening a door into a little mudroom. The first thing she saw was warning sign in thick red capitals 'OVER 18's ONLY'. Pushing through a multicolored glass bead curtain she was surprised to find the sight that she'd braced herself missing. Nikki had come prepared for the dirty and creepy—men in trench coats at plastic covered magazine racks and the overpowering smell of sweat and Lysol. There was none of that, just a busty woman in low slung faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt standing in a room that could have doubled as a set from Moulin Rouge—deep red carpeting, flocked wallpaper, velvet curtains and Louis XVI replica couches.

The smell of sandalwood hung in the air.

"Hi there honey, can I help you?" The voice matched the surrounds, lusty, deep with a trace of an accent. French by way of the South maybe?

"Good morning. My name's Nikki Dean, I'm a journalist at Aphrodite Magazine. I'm here to do some research for an article I'm doing. Do you have time to answer some questions?"

"Sure do, I'm Anna LaFleur. What's your article on honey?"

"It's umm," she cleared her throat and continued, "oral sex...more specifically the act of fellatio." Nikki felt her face glow red.

Anna's laugh, deep and velvety, matched the surrounds. "How're you going to write about it sugar if you can't even

say

it?" She motioned towards a set of couches in the corner of the room. "Have a seat."

Anna remained standing, she placed a hand on a curvy hip and asked, "So you work at Aphrodite. Do you know Mitchell Hayes?"

Nikki gave a short sharp nod, not surprised that this beautiful sexy woman knew Mitchell. Of course she

knew

Mitchell. "He's my mentor, we share an office."

"Share an office do you? Are you

close

?"

"No!" From the look on Anna's face Nikki thought that maybe she'd been a little too vehement in her response but there was something in the way the woman had said the word

close

—an implication—that put her back up.

The uncomfortable silence that followed her outburst was finally broken by Anna's quiet query, "Do you want some Iced Tea?"

Nikki let out the breath she'd been holding in a sigh. "Yes. Thank you Ms. La Fleur that would be lovely."

"Please, let's just be Anna and Nikki. This," she said with an expressive wave of her hand, "is no place to be formal."

Nikki nodded shakily and watched Anna disappear through a beaded curtain near the sales counter se wasn't really thirsty but Anna getting the tea bought her some time to get her bearings. She couldn't believe she'd stumbled over the words like that, not after she'd practiced them in the mirror last night over and over, training away her natural inclination to blush.

'Training accounts for squat in the real world'

, Mitchell's words on her first day of work rang through her head. It irked her that his cynical dismissal of her academic achievements had proved so right on her very first assignment.

Anna returned with a tray carrying a green glass jug of icy sweet tea and two tall glasses. She placed the tray on a small round table and poured two glasses. Handing a glass to Nikki she said with a wry smile, "There, that ought to take some of the heat out of your face."

"Oh, thanks."

"I'm just teasin' you sweetie. I'm a blusher too. Mind you it takes somethin' quite special to make

me

blush these days." As she spoke Anna made a sweeping motion with her arm, drawing Nikki's focus to the wall stocked entirely with mindboggling array of dildos and vibrators. On the top shelf sat a huge black penis the size of a small Shetland Pony. Nikki—unable to tear her eyes away from the pony sized phallus—nodded without making eye contact, causing Anna to laugh once more.

"I think you should ask your questions Nikki, before your head explodes."

"Oh, yes," Nikki said, reaching in to her satchel to pull out her binder of research and a pen. Her binder was color coded into sections tagged with the relevant headers. She saw Anna raise an eyebrow as she saw the Miss Kitty tab.

"Aren't you a busy little beaver?"

"I like to be organized."

The brow rose even higher. "So I see. I'm curious Nikki, what do you know?"

"I've got several 'how to' articles, written and pictorial guides and a psychological study on oral sex and fetishism, an historical analysis of oral sex references in film and literature and..." Nikki's explanation was caught short by a gentle hand placed on her thigh.

"You misunderstand me sugar, I'm interested in what

you

know?"

"Me? Know? About this?"

"About fellatio, oral sex, blow jobs. Yes, Nikki what you know."

"I'm not exactly sure how what I know is relevant."

"It's relevant to me. You want information from me. The cost of it is a little tit for tat. You tell me something, I tell you something. Understand?"

Nikki's mouth went dry. Anna still hadn't moved her hand. It rested on her thigh, gently moving in circles across the silk of her skirt.

"Think of it as payment. Payment for information. Journalists sometimes pay informants don't they?"

Payment with personal information. Was that ethical? Should she? She thought of Mitchell. He'd laugh at her indecision. He'd do anything for a story. She couldn't go back to the office and say she'd failed here, he'd expect it, they all would. What damage could it do to share a little information with this woman?

"Alright. Question for question."

"Have you sucked cock?"

The sudden crudeness made her flinch, she stammered, "I....yes...of course I have."

Nikki thought back to the last time and fought the shudder.

College party, his room, her drunk. Dirty floor, knees on sticky carpet. The smell of beer, stale sweat and unwashed sheets. His jeans open, meaty hand pushing her down, hard on her neck, forcing her at his erect penis. Gagging.

She shook it off, shook off the memory and turned back to Anna who had obviously been watching her intently.

"What portion of your sales are Fellatio related?"

"I'm afraid I'm not as efficient as you Nikki, I haven't got specific figures, but I can go through the products if you want to walk with me."

"Sure. Yes. Thanks."

Nikki left her binder on the couch and followed Anna. "Here we have our tongue vibrators." She picked up a silicone tongue-shaped sheath. "It fits over your tongue and vibrates, adding another dimension to the oral experience. There's a variety of sorts, some sheaths, some not. There's the Tongue Joy, Tongue Dinger, Tongue Teaser, all slightly different but with the same intent."

Intent on the display, Nikki was surprised by Anna's next question, "Did you like it? His cock in your mouth?"

Multiple questions, not strictly what they'd agreed upon but because she wasn't up to arguing, Nikki decided to answer, "No. I didn't. He pushed me down...down on him. I couldn't move. He held me down...I choked. It was...it was nasty."

"It was out of your control. You like control don't you?"

Nikki didn't reply and Anna didn't push. Instead she walked her over to another section. "These condoms and lubes specifically cater to oral sex."

"How?"

"Spermicide tastes bad honey. A good flavor can make all the difference. Name a flavor, we have it, from Mint to Mojito. Even sugar free for the diabetic or dieting."

"Sugar Free?" Nikki couldn't believe it. "Exactly how much are you consuming to need sugar free?"

Anna laughed, "I've wondered that myself. Do you like oral sex? Do you like to be licked?"

Anna's hand was on her again. This time pushing back a curl that had escaped her chignon, tucking it behind her ear. "I've never..." Nikki lowered her eyes and shook her head.

"Never been licked? Oh

honey,

that's just criminal."

"Umm, what do you need the lube for? Wouldn't the mouth provide lubricant?"

"Well that's a nice segue into the next set of products." Anna took her hand and guided her back to the wall of products that sat under the Shetland sized penis.

"The lube is for your fingers and for these dildos and vibrators."

Nikki flushed neon once more. She'd read this yesterday. Read it and abandoned it just as quickly. How exactly did anal become a part of Oral sex? Inserting things, it just didn't seem right.

"Prostate play amps up a good blow job into the spectacular."

"Right. Good."

"So did you want to see?"

"See what?"

"How this all works."

Visions of Anna on her knees giving head flashed before her eyes.

Dark hair spilled across strong thighs. Mouth open, wet tongue licking, pink swollen lips.

Yes. Yes she wanted to see.

"I've got DVDs," Anna said, pulling Nikki out of her graphic daydream.

Oh DVDs, of course

. Not her. A DVD, not Anna. Why was she disappointed? Where had that come from... the need? The want to see Anna on her knees?

"Do you want to see one now?"

"Right now?"

"Well you're here, so you may as well. Unless you want to come back. Or you could buy one if you wanted. Watch it at your leisure."

"I could, I should. Yes I will. I'll watch one now. And buy it and the other stuff. The other stuff you showed me. Can you box it up and I'll feature it in the article."

"I wasn't angling for a sale Nikki. I'm happy to just help you."

"I know. I know. I was going to buy it online anyway. I may as well support local business." Nikki rifled through her bag and pulled out her purse. Handing her credit card to Anna she said, "Put it all on here."

Anna took the card and nodded. "Alright then. I'll set you up in a privacy room with a DVD and you can watch while I get the products together."

She went behind the counter for a while. Nikki waited nervously. When she returned she offered Nikki her hand, with fingers entwined Anna led her through a set of heavy red drapes into a hallway with six doors. "These are our playrooms. We rent them out by the hour."

She opened the first door on the right. It was painted bright shiny red with an ornate gold knocker and door handle. Inside was a daybed, a vintage leather wing backed chair and ottoman. In the corner was an old fashioned sink with brass taps and exposed pipes. On the wall hung a giant plasma screen TV. Anna picked up the remote that was resting on the arm of the chair.

"Where's the DVD player?" Nikki asked.

"It's all computerized. I set it up already, all you have to do is press play on the remote." Anna opened the door and stood in the doorway, her hand resting lightly on the ornate doorknob. "The door locks as it closes. The room is soundproofed. You press the button here to unlock. OK?"

Nikki nodded looking at the red button beside the door.

"If I need you I'll knock." She demonstrated by banging the heavy knocker. The loud thump made Nikki jump. Anna smiled and turned to go, the door almost closed before she reopened it, looked at Nikki and said, "I was going to choose you something instructional, we've got those 'How to' DVDs, but instead I chose this, I think it's just right for you."

The door closed with a click. Leaving Nikki alone with whatever Anna had chosen—

just for her

. She sat in the wing backed chair, it smelled like leather cleaner, a relief as Nikki had just been wondering about the last person who had sat in this chair, and what they had done.

The screen flicked to life with a thumping backbeat of sultry electronic music. The words

Blowing It

came up, in ornate flowing script.