Everybody's over 18 in this story, FYI. Feedback welcome.
When I was young and discovered pornography (I mean the explicit stuff, not just female models posed in the altogether,) it was a life-changing experience. Not that it was cheap in those days, or easy to select items that lived up to the hype on the front cover. The magazines (see how far back I'm going?) were sealed in plastic, cost around $20 each, and it was a crap shoot if the material within bore any resemblance to the exciting pictorials on the outside.
I was drawn to cute and innocent-looking young women, doing surprisingly dirty things. The idea that a young lady my age or maybe a little older would suck cock in front of a camera was quite arousing, never mind some of the stronger things that were acted out. My favorites were magazine-length, glossy but not-too-polished depictions of couples engaged in multi-position lovemaking. It helped a lot if the cameraman had some flair.
And, inevitably, things would culminate in an erotic male come shot. Preferably, several angles of photography would be utilized to milk (so to speak) the most out of that moment.
No matter where the guy's cum would land, it was important to me that the woman had an expression of ecstasy or at least contentment on her face, seeing her partner's spunk adorning her breasts, backside, tummy....or, better yet, her face.
Now, there's no analyzing anyone's preference for this sort of thing. I can, for example, trace my fascination with the naked female posterior to the early, formative days of my sexual education, but coming in a woman's face was something that hadn't even been mentioned in the dirty books I'd read. Why it should have been such a jolt to my libido the very first time I saw it remains a mystery, but to me, a facial is simply the most joyously dirty image in the lexicon of pictorial sex, be it still-image or video.
Still, I knew it was primarily a fantasy. That is, not the sort of thing you'd expect a woman to willingly do for you, whether she loved you or not. The very fact that these images aren't seen in "couples" porn, for instance, to this day, speaks volumes. Many, I'm sure, think it's demeaning. Not me; the few times I've had the pleasure of doing this dirty deed in real life have only served to make me feel more affection for my partner and delight in her willingness to please me.
The first time for me was in college. By then everyone had a VCR and you could rent porn with decent-enough production values at any full-service video store. Therein lies my tale.
It was on a night when my roommate was out that a girl named Cindy called to see if I'd like to share a little wine with her. Cindy and I had an off-and-on thing but when it was cooking, the sex was torrid. Neither of us felt particularly possessive of the other, which was ideal for college; the real world and all its complications could wait.
So we were reasonably wasted on the wine and a little smoke I had stashed, making out at my place on the couch, with our tongues doing battle and our fingers finding all the best sensitive parts, when I unknowingly rolled a little to the left and bumped my hip into the "play" button on the remote control, the remote that had wedged itself between the cushions.
You guessed it: I'd gone and left a porn tape in the VCR, with the TV in black screen mode. Soon Cindy and I were distracted from working on each other's crotches with our eager fingers by cheap music warbling from the TV, followed quickly by soft moaning. I tried to feel for the remote so I could quiet the thing, still not realizing what was queued-up, but finding myself too clumsy or high to be successful.
It was when Cindy turned her pretty face away from mine and stopped rubbing my hard-on through my jeans that the fog in my brain cleared. Her eyes were wide but not alarmed as she took in what was appearing on the screen, and it hit me then which tape I'd left in the machine: it was the one I'd last been jerking off to, a compilation of oral sex scenes culminating in facials.
"Holy shit, Jerry," she muttered, and then giggled self-consciously. "If you're wasting yourself on this stuff, maybe I should come over more often."
I turned as the moaning from the TV became louder. There was a closeup of a pretty brunette milking a sizable penis with her mouth. Every few seconds you could see the tip of her tongue emerge and lave the underside of this dick. The guy was thrusting himself carefully in and out of her lips, almost in slow motion, as she looked up and dripped a little saliva down her chin.
I moved off of Cindy and took a deep breath. I'd never watched hardcore with a girl, had never worked up the nerve to try. In my mind, I was either about to be chastised ("Aren't I enough for you, don't I do the stuff you like?"), laughed at (how pathetic), or just plain given the silent treatment until I shut the damn thing off.
"Okay, I guess you caught me..." I muttered, feeling heat creep up my neck. "You know, sometimes--"
"Don't I," she replied, sardonically. "I grew up with three brothers, remember?"
I looked at her and saw expressions of amusement and leftover arousal on her face. I liked how her hair was mussed-up, just a bit.
"Oh look, you're all red in the face," she remarked. "Hey, I'm not out to embarrass you. Did you want me watch this with you, it's that why you put it on?" Now, how could I expect her to believe I had no intention of sharing this with her, and had accidentally hit "play"?
On the screen the guy was moving faster and faster, in and out of the young lady's energetic mouth. Both of us, I noticed, kept looking back at the TV and then at each other as we talked. A couple of quick insert shots of the guy's overly-ecstatic face started to appear, so I knew what was about to happen.
I felt Cindy's hand again in my lap, grasping me through my pants and bringing my lagging erection back into arousal. We started looking only at the TV. The camera pulled back a little to show the woman's full face, not just her mouth. She really looked like she was enjoying it, even bringing a hand up to cup his balls and fondle them a little. The prick between her lips looked darker than before.
I put my left hand down Cindy's jeans and under her panties as I luxuriated in the practiced way she stroked me through my slacks. Her thighs readily parted and my fingers found her sex, her moist opening and the sensitive flesh surrounding it. We stared at the TV and felt each other up.
At some point Cindy worked my johnson out into the air, I don't know when. Probably it was around the same time I'd managed to work two fingers inside her and the heel of my palm had begun to work in firm, concentric circles over her clit.
Then the guy pulled his cock completely out of the woman's mouth. She grasped it and started milking its length. The tip was all wet from her spit as she looked closely at it, inches from her face, and jerked it off. Her lips parted and the camera pulled back an inch or so more.
Cindy was jacking me off in earnest when I worked the tip of a third finger just down into the beginning of her ass crease. And then a quick shot of the guy's face (looking like he was having a heart attack) was inserted on the screen, followed shortly by a closeup of just the woman's open mouth and tongue as the swollen head of his dick emerged from the left side of the frame, clearly ready to burst.
Cindy grasped my erection firmly as the milky ropes of cum suddenly ejaculated from the man on the TV in rapid spurts, some of it entering the brunette's mouth and coating her tongue while other spurts streaked her cheeks, the corner of her nose, her lips and even the side of her hair.
The camera pulled back a little more as the last of his climax dribbled directly onto the woman's outstretched tongue. It was then that I noticed she'd never flinched, closed her eyes or looked anything other than happy that her lover had just covered her face with his joy juice. She even eagerly sucked on the tip of his spermy member to draw out the last of his stuff as the scene faded to black.
As another scene abruptly began (this time with two guys masturbating themselves over the upturned face of a smiling blonde) I held my breath, wondering how Cindy was taking this. She was clearly enjoying what I was doing with my fingers, since her hips had begun a small rotation movement, and her hand was smoothly pistoning my now-steely cock...but the look on her face as she watched was tough for me to read.
I guessed she was thinking about it, thinking about me, and making up her mind if she thought what she was watching was disturbing her. The only part of me she looked at right then was my dick, as she moved it through her hand. That was a good sign.
"You really like this stuff, this coming on a girl's face," she observed, matter-of-factly, rather than asking. Just as she said this, one of the guys on the screen grunted and made what sounded like a curse, then pressed the head of his cock against the blonde's upturned cheek. The way the camera was angled, you could see the slit in his glans open and spurt an impressive amount of thick cum onto her face and the left edge of her mouth as he continued to stroke himself, almost all in one ejaculation, before he pulled away (as did the camera) and shot the rest of his climax along her neck and down onto her naked breast.
"Yes," I admitted, surprising myself that I hadn't pretended it was no big thing. Heck, Cindy hadn't run out of the room on me, yet, so I guessed I wasn't some monster in her eyes.
"When were you last, uh, watching this?" she asked, as the second guy emptied his balls on the woman's still-smiling but erotically-soiled visage, spurting his cum from what seemed to be a foot away, in long streams.
"Yesterday," I replied as I felt Cindy's lower body press against my busy fingers. As though the "when" of my last watching this tape made any difference: what Cindy meant, of course, was...when had I last masturbated?
"I guess I never paid real close attention to what a guy looks like, you know, what his orgasm looks like," she said, none too articulate herself. "Some of them are real different."
She may have been referring to the oversized cock that now appeared onscreen, a formidable penis recognizable to any veteran porn-watcher, belonging to one John C. Holmes. His fat, over-twelve-inch length was presently being stroked to orgasm by a tiny hippie-looking girl whose hands seemed overwhelmed by his prodigious size. The petite girl knelt on a bed as John stood above her being wanked, his cock tip rubbing against her forehead as it sheathed in and out of its foreskin, her small hands doing their best to get him off as she looked up at him.
