Walking home from the beach, Keith had a pretty good idea what it looked like. By 25, Mary was growing out of the girlish body and the baby face that she'd fought against so much in her college years. But when you put her in a bikini, let the summer bring out the freckles on her cheeks, and put her next to Keith, the cliche was staring you in the face: rich sugar-daddy leading a perky young thing around by a trail of jewelry and overpriced chocolates. Unfair (he hoped,) but there it was.
When she made him stop at an ice cream truck on their way home, he bought her a popsicle with his requisite grown-up wallet full of small bills, and met the ice cream man's smirk with a steely "you wish" stare. Then Mary's little ass bounced away in her bikini bottoms, making him run up the hill to catch up with her. It was Keith's condo they could walk to from the beach, and they stepped through the door into the cool of efficient air conditioning.
"So," Keith said as she threw out her gum and unwrapped the popsicle, "what else do we have planned for this date?"
The only part of Mary that still refused to show her age was her voice. High and soft and musical, with just a hint of raspiness when she felt like whispering. The voice of a mischievous cartoon kitten. Or more to the point, a very horny young soprano.
She made the coy smile that usually told Keith she was about five minutes away from sucking his cock.
"Hmm..." she mock-pondered it with a fingertip to her lips, "I was thinking maybe you could tie my hands behind my back with my bikini top and feed me this popsicle?" Imagine the voice, and you imagine how Keith's jaw clenched. Mary flicked her hand at the front of his trunks too, to make it clear she knew she had his attention.
Four and a half minutes later, she knelt on the tile of the bathroom floor, showing off how well she could slide her lips up the popsicle stick to suck the last bite from it, playfully ignoring the heat that radiated from Keith's aching erection. That voice of hers said "All done. Did I do a good job?" and Keith threw the stick into the bathroom trash can.
"Yes," he decided, "very good job."
"So, what's my reward?" she beamed. Her face was covered in sticky, syrupy juice, and her bare chest and stomach hadn't been spared the mess, either.
"Well," Keith said seriously, "what would you like?"
Mary's voice dropped a fifth to say "May I please suck your cock, sir? I promise I'll do a really good job."
This was a game they both had memorized. Mary would ask, very politely, for the opportunity to blow him, and he would make her talk him into it. His favorite part was the way she slipped in and out of the role; she would bounce and wriggle while he spoke in his strictest assistant-principal voice, but the second it was her turn to speak, she played her part with a kind of innocent, stiff-postured enthusiasm, like an over-eager secretary.
"Oh? And what's going to be so special about this blowjob?"
"Well," Mary didn't take long think up an answer: "I've never sucked your cock with my hands tied up like this before." She twisted to show the tangle of the string bikini top he'd tied around her wrists. "If I can't use my hands, I'll have to suck it really deep. You might even have to hold me by my hair and help me do it. Wouldn't that feel good?"
Keith considered it, then, magnanimously, worked his swimming trunks down over his penis and let them fall to the floor.
He had a theory that certain features of a woman's face were clues that she could learn how to deep-throat. Certain noses and certain chins, when he saw them on anyone, made him wonder. Mary had the small button chin, the very slight overbite, and the short, upturned nose that were dead giveaways, as far as he was concerned. She'd never even tried it before she met him. And there she was, guiding the aching tip down the soft ramp of her tongue, carefully working her back molars past the sensitive edges of the head. She was a natural. Deep, slippery, and in total control of herself.
In minutes, she flared her nostrils to breathe with the spasming, cum-gushing head mashed against her soft palate, only wrestling with her gag reflex when Keith's cum sprayed the back of her throat. It was an orgasm that made his stomach muscles clench up and his teeth grind.
He let go of his grip on her hair, breathing like he'd just finished a workout, and gave her that half-unbelieving look that she loved so much. Mary tried to clear her throat and ended up dribbling a ball of semen and spit down her thigh to the floor. Keith helped her up and untied her.
"Very good." He praised her, just the way she liked. "Let's get you into the shower."
"But sir," she said with her brows arched high, "I didn't swallow like a good girl. Don't I get a spanking?"
Keith broke character with a short laugh, but did bend her over the counter and give a few noisy swats to her little grapefruit-sized buns before he pulled her into the shower and scrubbed her clean. Mary was too much.
"Too good to be true" was the thing he tried hardest not to think. Keith was a freak for blowjobs, and even he felt embarrassed by how much Mary wanted to give. Was there such a thing as too much? Maybe not. But there are things that last and there are things that don't.
On their second date, Mary had brought up blowjobs in an after-dinner conversation over a second bottle of wine. He could see the gears turning. Mary was a cautious, pecky kisser, and he'd used his best trick to teach her to loosen up: "Relax your jaw", he'd coached her, "let your lips fall open naturally, and let me match their shape with mine." Viola; a real kiss. Mary felt it. Before that night was over, she'd decided to try his cock, too, but after a minute of noncommittal nibbling--as thrilling as it was for Keith to watch her kiss his dick, she could see it going nowhere--she stopped, wondering if she could ask him a "serious question". He wasn't sure what to expect, but said yes, and the serious question was "can you teach me how to suck your cock?" In that sweet, pouty voice, it had almost made Keith spill his glass.
She was a brilliantly quick study, and the "teaching" had turned into her own live lab pretty quickly. She always had something new she wanted to try on him, and it always felt amazing. But it was becoming clearer and clearer to Keith, the harder Mary tried to outsuck all other dick suckers, that what he'd found in her was the jackpot of all rebounds. Too good to last.
When they were both showered and dressed and back to their resting heartbeats, Mary let him take her out to dinner. She'd mentioned a Japanese restaurant downtown that she wanted to visit, and he'd remembered it. (Written down the name and looked up the hours, even.)
Mary liked dating him. She like his nice suits and his new, unfailingly clean car. She liked that she could wear her nicest law-student skirts and jackets, and look like exactly the kind of girl he should be seen with. She really liked him. But she also knew she was still watching every window for her ex, Joshua, just for the fleeting chance he would see them.
