Monica Meets A Cumslut

The semi-true story of how eating a creampie won me the girl.

I took my time with Monica, watching her face as I slid in and out of her in long, lazy strokes. Guys like me don't get second chances with women like Monica. She was out of my league. Petite, pretty, and proper, I don't think most guys would even try to make time with her. I had seen it happen, guys who lost the ability to speak as soon as she turned on her perfect smile and batted her baby blues at them. I had seen the opposite, too. The guys who weren't afraid to make time with her. Guys so into themselves, they figured they deserved a woman like Monica.

"Faster," she whimpered, pressing up against me.

"No," I told her, maintaining my leisurely pace.

Monica bit her button lip and gave me that look; eyebrows raised and her eyes wide open. I watched a mix of frustration, pleading, and passion taking turns on her face. "Please?" she asked, her voice ragged with a need I wasn't going to fulfill. You see, that's the key of being with a woman like Monica when you're an average looking guy like me, you have to give her something different, something that wouldn't occur to other guys. "I'm so close."

"Me too," I told her, bending my face closer to hers, brusher her lips with mine, but pulling away before the touch of our lips turned into a kiss. It wasn't time. Not yet. I reached between our bodies, grabbed my prick as I pulled out, and I tapped it against her pussy. "Tell me you want it."

"I do."

"Tell me you need it."

"Dammit, just fuck me. Please?"

Close enough. I rubbed my prick against her clit a few times before putting the head of my cock back inside her pussy. Just the tip. My cock throbbed against her opening, as if it could finish the stroke on its own if it throbbed enough.

"Stop it," she giggled. She wrapped her legs around my ass and tried to pull me inside of her. Instead, she pulled herself around my prick. Tiny and athletic, she managed the move three more times before giving up. "You're a dick."

"I'm a proud dick owner," I said. Her tight ass fell back to the bed and I filled her again, just like before, with a slow, teasing stroke. She should be able to feel how my prick throbbed as I slid it inside of her, each inch inward being announced with another involuntary twitch. Damn I was close, too close. If she didn't get off soon, I would be forced to change my technique.

"So close," she purred.

"Come for me."

"Harder."

"Come for me."

"Faster."

"Come for me," I repeated a third time, pressing inside of her as deep as I could. I rubbed our pubic bones together, squishing her clit against my body and I felt her pussy clutching at my prick. I squirmed, repeating my command another time and she was unable to resist. Gasping, she came as my hard-on throbbed in counterpoint to her orgasm. That was good, but it wasn't what would push things over the top. It wasn't what would make being with me different, unique, and special. I managed three more long, slow strokes as I rode out her orgasm.

"Oh yes," she cried. "Fuck yeah!" I waited for her to calm down, to regain her composure following the heat of her orgasm. "What about you?" she asked, bucking up against me again.

"You want me to come, too?"

"Yes," Monica said, looking up at me as if I had just asked one of the world's stupidest questions.

"You want me to come inside of you?"

"It's okay, I get that shot."

I wasn't worried about getting her pregnant. Girls like her don't fuck guys like me unless they have a fool proof birth control plan. I kept my stroking at the same pace. "I'm going to come inside of you," I told her, ignoring her answers to my questions. My questions were rhetorical, but she wouldn't have a reason to know that. It didn't matter. I knew and that was enough. "I'm going to come inside your pussy."

"Yes," she moaned. I couldn't tell if she moaning for real or just playing along with the moment. It didn't matter.

"And then I'm going to go down on you."

"Excuse me?"

If she had been doing the fucking, I think she would have lost her stroke. Instead, I was still in control. "You heard me. I'm going to come inside your pussy and then I'm going to eat you until you have another orgasm."

"After you... you know." Her surprised, wide, blue eyes searched my plain brown ones, looking for the joke that wasn't there.

"After I come inside you. Say it, Monica. Tell me to come inside of you."

"Do it," she said. Was she playing along or did she mean it?

"And then I'm going to eat it. I'm going to eat your wet, used pussy."

"Do it," she moaned again and the look in her eyes changed as her eyebrows lowered a notch. Such a subtle change between looking surprised and looking wild. Her eyes still traveled across my face, but she looked more determined.

"Tell me to eat you."

"Come first," she insisted and knew she got it.

I pulled out. Not all the way out, but mostly out of her. I left the tip of my prick inside of her and jerked off. She stared between our bodies, watching me working my prick, watching my hand stroking the exposed length and I came. As I did, my prick jerked, jumped, and throbbed as I released my load inside the opening of her pussy. I had forgotten to tease her with my big finish, kissing her after I ate her, but whatever. I'm not perfect.

"Eat me," she gasped.

I moved quickly, slipping down my bed, between her legs, and pushing her legs upwards towards her chest. She curled easily and I right before I buried my tongue against her pussy, I saw the white, creamy goo of my orgasm and her froth at the opening of her sex. I pressed my tongue against the lips of her womanhood, pushing my tongue inside, and licking her. She gasped again, sounding surprised instead of turned on, but I ignored it.

"Oh-my-God!" she shrieked, sounding like a disapproving Valley girl. I ignored that, too. I kept licking and lapping at her puffy, shaved sex. I sucked on her labia, caressed the excited nub of her clit, and tongue fucked her as deeply as I could. I had gone down on her earlier, before we started fucking, but this was different. This was me eating her cream pie. This was as much for me as it was for her. Hell, it was MORE for me than her, but it thrilled her, too. Monica came again and I rode her orgasm out with my tongue pressed against her pussy. As her extended moment of passion passed, I released her legs, allowing her body to uncurl. That's when I moved over her again. I put a hand behind her head, losing my fingers in the tight curls of her blonde hair and pulling her face towards me. "No," she said, though she didn't fight me. I held her face next to mine.

"Kiss me," I said, our lips close enough together that I could feel her breath and the heat from her body.

"No," she repeated.

"Yes," I said, waiting for it, waiting for the tiny nudge backwards that never came. When it didn't, I knew she wanted it. "Kiss me," I repeated, urging her close enough for our lips to touch and she did the rest. She pressed her lips against me and I swear her tongue pressed into my mouth before I ever pressed my tongue into hers.

Monica reached for my prick, clutching and squeezing it, as if checking to make sure I was still hard. I was and I knew what she wanted. I allowed her to guide me inside of her again as we kissed. I was still inside of her when our kiss ended. "You're a freak," she said, a bemused grin on her face.

"Tell me you didn't like it."

"Shut up and fuck me." And I did, believing I owned that pussy in a way no man had yet to accomplish. I gave her the fuck she had expected the first time, the fuck she had thought she wanted. I fucked like a fucking machine, stroking harder and faster than before. When she got close to her orgasm, she looked up at me with a desperate look. "Tell me you'll do it again."

"Promise," I said and I enjoyed the thrill of her orgasm, proud and pleased that I could be part of it.

Again, her moment arrived, owned her body with waves of pleasure, and released her. Though she was weak from her orgasm, she wasn't spent. "Are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"What you did before."

"What did I do?"

"Don't be like that. Just do it, please?"

"I'm going to come on your tits."

"Why?"

"Because you want me to lick them clean."

"Really?"

"Yes," I said, pulling out of her. I straddled her flat, narrow stomach. I bent over, holding myself up with one hand on my headboard. With my right hand, I started stroking my hard, wet prick. Looking down at her, I saw how she was staring my cock and my hand doing all the work. She did looked up at my face, just once, but otherwise, her eyes stayed on me jerking off. She pressed her tits together. That was enough for me. I came, spraying my load against her nipples and the curves of her tits. I squeezed out one more droplet, wiping it on her before I started licking her tits. I lapped up a streak of semen, kissed her, and went back for another until her tits were wet from my tongue, but clean of my orgasm.

"You're right, that was hot," she purred as I laid next to her.

"You're hot," I told her, kissing her bare shoulder.

"Oh, stop it." I didn't press it. What made Monica special to me was how she could be hot and relatively oblivious to the fact at the same time. "You're the only person who treats me like a person," she said, rubbing my bare thigh. Okay, maybe she did know but was annoyed by it.

"Guess we'll find out how much that matters."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

We didn't spend the night together. I didn't expect us to, either. I drove her home. She gave me a nice kiss goodnight, a passionate kiss that suggested our one night could be more. I wasn't prepared to believe it, but the next day at work gave me some hope. She was in the backroom as I walked in.

"You know you rocked my world last night," she said.

"Sort of what I do," I said, giving her an casual grin.

"Don't be like that."

"Like how?"

"Dismissive. You really did."

I looked at her for a long moment. Was she serious? "Prove it."

"How?"

"Kiss me." She did and it was as passionate as our good-night kiss had been. Had I really gotten to her? She grabbed the front of my pants as we kissed.

"I want this."

"Take off your bra," I said.

"What?"

"You heard me. Take off your bra. You won't need it today."

"But I have to work."

"Without your bra. I'm a freak, remember? If you want to be with me, then it's by my rules."

"You don't think I'll do it."

"You're right," I said, pulling her close to me for another kiss. I ran my hand between our bodies, caressing one of her fine breasts. "You liked it when I licked my come off of these, didn't you?"

"Stop it," she said, a playful grin on her face. She blushed a bit as she admitted. "And yes, I did. And yes, you're a freak."

"If I remember, that's what I promised you."

"I want this again," she said, rubbing the front of my pants again. Looking over her head, I saw Tim walking towards the backroom door. I didn't want him to see us together. When I pulled away, she looked up at me, tracked my gaze, and looked over her shoulder. "He's a dick," she whispered.

"I know," I said, stepping past Monica and pushing the door open right before Tim reached it. He nearly walked into the edge. Behind me, I heard a giggle. "Hey Tim," I said, flashing him a big smile.

"You're almost late."

"Hm, what I'm hearing you say is, 'Hi, welcome to work. Thanks for being on time.'"

"Clock in, we need you."

"You're welcome," I said, heading to the cash register to clock in. I was two minutes early. Perfect timing. I started helping customers while Tim lingered in the backroom with Monica. I could guess the deal. He wanted her and was convinced she should want him. Why not? Tim was a good looking guy, in great shape, and it would only be a matter of time before his daddy turned the company over to him. Monica could do worse than Tim, if she could deal with him being a dick.

Tim returned to the floor first. I pointed an older woman in his direction, "Tim will be more than happy to help you," I told her. A few minutes later, Monica arrived back on the floor, too. I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra anymore, but I didn't comment on it. However, I did enjoy the guys choosing her lane and how they stared at her perky breasts and obvious nipples.

During a lull in customers, she moved close to me. "Have you even noticed?"

"That you're slut? I sort of love it."

"Stop it or I'll put it back on again."

"No you won't," I told her, smiling. "You like me seeing you like that."

"Can we get together after work tonight?"

"Yes," I told her, unwilling to pass up a second chance with her.

We made love that night, exactly as we had the night before. I didn't change a thing. I knew better. I understood why she was in my bed for the second night in the row. She wanted to see if last night was a fluke. She didn't want different, not yet. She wanted the same and wanted to see if she would have the same reactions. She did. Wait. No, that's a partial lie. She had a better time than last night. Why? Because this time, she knew what to expect. When I started fucking her, slow and easy like last night, she stared into my eyes. "Just a little faster?" she asked and I went slower. "Stop it. You're killing me."

"No, I'm pleasing you," I said, giving her a tiny peck on the lips.

"You're teasing."

"We'll see," I said, moving in for a second kiss that I didn't give her. Instead, like last night, I brushed my lips against hers and pulled away before the kiss could begin. I wanted her needy. I wanted every fiber of her being waiting for the orgasm she believed I could give her. She tried to fuck me. She begged me to go faster, harder, and deeper. I kept my rhythm, making her wait until her body couldn't wait any longer. She came faster than last night. Then I jerked off inside of her before going down on her. She came again from my tongue, came again when I returned to fucking her, and came again after I sprayed my orgasm on her tits. I helped that last orgasm. It was the only change I made from last night, but I think it was an important one. As I licked my orgasm from her chest, feeding her a taste of my cumcoated tongue after each lap, I fingered her. Afterwards, sweaty and sated, we laid side-by-side again.

"You want to know something funny?" she asked, staring up at my ceiling. I waited for it. "I don't like how a guy tastes. You know, when he has an orgasm. I don't swallow. I won't even let him come close to making me swallow."

"Why is that funny?"

"Because I can taste you when you kiss me and I like that. Is that weird?"

"You'll swallow for me."

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will," I replied as flatly as she had done.

"Maybe. Once. Just to see," she said and when I laughed, she shot me a disapproving glare. "Why are you laughing?"

"You won't believe me."

"Try me anyway."

"No," I insisted and I meant it. Her pleas would fall on ears as deaf as when she begged me to go faster, harder, or deeper. Either she heard the finality in my voice or gave up and I don't think she gave up. Monica wasn't the type to give up on anything.

"Why do you do it?"

I knew what she was asking. Why did I go down on her after having an orgasm inside of her or lick her tits after coating them with my orgasm. What I didn't know was how to answer her. I gave her a choice of answers. "I can tell you the mostly true reason that will make you feel good or the real reason that will make you think I'm a freak."

"I want both."

I smiled. I should have known better. "Because I knew if I was different, you would be back for more."

"And what's the real reason?" she asked, able to guess which one I had given her first.

"Because I'm a cumslut."

"What's that mean? Are you gay?"

"I don't think so. I just like a used woman. Doesn't matter if I used them or not."

"You're right, that is weird." She didn't flinch or climb out of bed or suddenly find an imaginary reason for why she had to go home. I didn't push things. We laid together, naked bodies still touching, for a long time before she asked, "Does it matter who uses her first?"

"No."

"Liar."

"What if he's really big? Or really good in bed?"

"Or better looking than me?" I added.

"What if?" she asked, her hand finding my prick and squeezing it. I got hard again.

"Try me."

"I want to try something different, first," she said and she went down on me. I'll give her credit, for a woman who says she doesn't swallow, it didn't show. She sucked me well and mightily. I let it happen. It would be my third orgasm of the night. It wouldn't be as copious as my first two, but that wasn't the point. She wanted to taste me, right from the tap as it was. It didn't take long and she swallowed. "Not bad," she reported.

"Kiss me," I said and she felt a different kind of kiss from me, a hungry kiss. I gave her the kind of soulful kiss desperate men give to women. I didn't care. I loved that her mouth had just been around my cock. I love that she had just swallowed. I fell a tiny bit in love with her, though I knew it could never be. Girls like Monica might hook up with guys like me, but that's all I am or ever would be, a hook-up.

"Next time, I promise not to swallow first."

I moaned, wishing my flesh could allow the next time to happen on the spot. It couldn't and didn't. Maybe that's why she spent the night, I don't know. I wanted to think it was. We worked that day. After we woke up, I made offered her breakfast. Monica declined, asked to take a shower and said she would wait until I finished taking one, too. I didn't think she would wait, but she did. My hair was still wet when she pushed me back down on my bed. I wasn't sure what she had in mind, so I went with it, appreciating it when she returned to sucking my dick. She didn't stop. I came and she kissed right afterwards. As she had promised, she hadn't swallowed first. I put my hand behind her neck and kept her lips against mine until I was sure there was nothing left to share.

"You are a cumslut," she told me, before giving me another kiss and left me naked on my bed. "See you at work."

Work was a small sandwich shop whose name you would recognize the moment I said it. I won't say it. Tim's dad owned six of the little shops around the area. I don't know why Monica worked there. She was too cute to work someplace like that. She deserved better, but she did it just the same. My shift started an hour before hers did. When she arrived to work, I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra again. So did Tim and most of the male customers. Only Tim felt the need to point it out, but at least he was discrete and only mentioned it to me.

"I have a date tonight," Monica told me as our shifts were winding down. Tim was in the backroom doing paperwork and the store was empty. I nodded. What was I supposed to say? I didn't think we were dating because she hooked up with me twice. "What are you doing tonight?"

"The polite answer or the truthful one?" I offered. This time I wasn't surprised when she asked for both. "Just hanging out," I said with a shrug. She waited for the real answer. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one but her would hear. "Jerking off to the memory of the last two nights."

"That's sort of sad sounding."

"Nah, it's going to be fun. I come every time I do it myself."

She giggled. "Are you going to eat it, too?"

I took another glance around. "Cumslut, remember?"

"What if I get lucky tonight?"

"You won't be the lucky one."

"You know what I mean."

I stopped what I was doing and stared at her for a long moment, confused. "Who's the guy?"

"Gary."

I knew Gary, she had been dating him for a couple months. I don't know how serious they were. That was hard to measure, because women like Monica always seem to be in a serious relationship. I still wasn't sure why she went home with me two nights ago. I know why she said

(because I'm the only person who treats her like a person)

. I wasn't immune to her beauty. I was more impressed that she worked in a sub shop and wasn't above doing to nastiest jobs. I used to tease her that she liked it nasty, wanted it nasty, and I guess that teasing was what got her in my bed. I had promised her two things, that I would give the kinds of orgasms women dream about having and that I would be nasty. I didn't know if I had managed the first of those two, but I know I had mastered the last one.