I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch 06

Editor's note: So many of you have written to me asking questions about what was going on with my ex-wife Nancy Jean, the Blowjob Queen of Ridley High. Here's the latest.

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Can a woman be addicted to cock?

Not merely enjoy satisfying her partner, not simply getting him off. Not just during the dating process or first year of marriage. No, a woman with a real live cock addiction.

In my experience, the answer is an emphatic YES!

How do I know? I was married to a woman whose cock-sucking skills were impeccable. They were outstanding. They were beyond mind-blowing. The woman could suck a cock like no other.

We broke up. We had to.

What was the problem? The girl just loved to suck on cock. Doesn't she sound like every man's dream girl? Absolutely. But there was this huge problem.

Mine was not the only cock she sucked. No, Nancy Jean was a blow job artist with a well earned reputation throughout the Delaware Valley it as a girl who could be counted on to suck cock with just a little incentive.

I learned it out by accident.

When we were dating I had absolutely no idea Nancy Jean was a blow job queen. Heck, it took me a while to realize how much she loved sucking cock. Prior to going out with me, and while we were going out, Nancy Jean was plying her talents on various guys...only I had no idea.

I must have been on the slow side of things, but gradually I found out the girl liked dick. She'd suck my cock in the car...sometimes even when I was driving! Parks, baseball dugouts, her parent's basemen, you name it, we probably fooled around there. Her cock-sucking talents were endless, and I was oblivious to the fact that there would be stares and chuckles when we'd walk past people on the street.

We were married, lived in suburbia, me working as a manager for a local insurance company and Nancy Jean teaching 3rd graders at a local community elementary school. A normal sex life, a couple kids, and the normal credit card debt associated with being a middle class, two income family.

It wasn't until out 10th high school reunion when I stumbled upon the fact that Nancy Jean had a reputation in high school for being an excellent fellatrix, and was even given the honorary title of Blowjob Queen of Ridley High. It took 10 years, but I found out that my wife was a cock-sucking queen in the day. Apparently she had been faithful in our years of marriage, except for a couple dalliances that meant nothing to her. But something happened on the night of our reunion, something set her off, and our lives were never the same again.

That particular night I thought there were a lot of smirks around the room when we walked past. I chalked it up to jealously about Nancy Jean's short black mini-dress which rode up her thighs (showing stocking tops) when we danced or she bent over. Yet when I accidentally overheard several guys talking about my wife's oral talents I nearly died.

I didn't believe it. But it got worse. Later that night I caught her in the act of blowing the high school football star, to say nothing of four other guys she'd done when she was 18, in succession the back seat of Biffs' car. A sort of oral gang bang.

Needless to say I wasn't pleased. At first I bolted from our marriage, but over time we got back together. I thought things would change. To preserve our marriage I made some compromises, which I thought would make things better, but didn't. Our relationship changed and ultimately ended.

It wasn't until my ex-wife visited me in my office in need of money that I got back with her. Oh, not into a relationship, but in a once a week 15-30 minute meeting where she'd finish her school teacher duties then breeze over to my office. There my secretary held all calls while Nancy Jean sucked my dick.

Yes, it was a simple business arrangement to keep her solvent at a time when bills were mounting higher than her salary and my modest support payments could handle.

The weekly escapade was something I looked forward to, because there was no love in the act, I simply used her mouth as a cock receptacle. It was humiliating for her, because my secretary knew what was going on in the office --- I made no effort to disguise it from her once she caught on to things.

My ex-wife would arrive, there were be a couple minutes of pleasant conversation. Nancy Jean would suck my cock, and I'd be as nice or as rough as I wanted with her. Heck, I was using her as a whore, so to speak. Even the little love I had in my heart for her gradually wore away.

Our arrangement worked extremely well for months. I loved having the power to basically snap my finger and send my ex-wife to her knees and tend to my cock. I had her do all kinds of cock sucking in that office, as it was a fantasy come true.

She would blow me while under my desk, while between my legs at my circular work table, and even while lying on my desk with her head over the edge while I stood and fed her my cock. Most of the time I'd shoot and she'd swallow, but to add to my excitement I'd sometimes pull out right before I was going to cum and just jerk off my cock until my sauce coated her face. It was a porn movie magic moment.

On several occasions I'd have her blow me while taking a call from a client. Once I called a girlfriend and asked for a date while Nancy Jean was polishing my cock. Oh, I loved to humiliate the woman, especially in front of the ears of my secretary. That was a one-upmanship that was unmatched in anything I had done. When Nancy Jean left the office, my secretary always made some smart remark that added to my ex-wife's humiliation.

So when she surprised me one Monday night I didn't know what to expect. I heard my secretary greet her and had to smile to myself.

"Hello, Nancy Jean, aren't you a couple days early for your, uh, meeting, with Jon?" coyly asked my wonderful secretary. She knew what went on behind my closed doors, a couple times she even asked to listen on the speaker phone while Nancy Jean was sucking me off. I truly believed she relished the fact that Nancy Jean had to stoop, uh, kneel so low, to make a few bucks to make ends meet.

Nancy Jean came into my office, shut the door, sat down across from me and let ample leg show as she made a production of crossing her legs. She took a deep breath and got right to the point. Her current beau, the assistant principal at her school, was up to his neck with marital problems. Seems his wife had wads of evidence he'd been cheating on her, enough that even his lawyer was shaking his head in disbelief. Still, nobody had identified Nancy Jean as the "other woman" which would have made the divorce very, very uncomfortable...and expensive.

So my ex-wife wasn't able to count on Jim Thompson to help out with the bills for a while. Apparently not only costs were going up, but her dad had lost his job and was scraping to make ends meet. Nancy Jean was short of cash for herself, let alone the money needed to help her parents. "Jon, be a sport, help me through this....maybe we can meet twice a week?"

Once a whore always a whore.

I smiled as she squirmed, ultimately showing some stocking tops. I could tell she didn't want to be here admitting she'd run short of cash when her current beau had to stop with his generosity. Heck, there was the mortgage on a house she couldn't really afford --- our old house --- plus ax expensive new car and regular trips to the local fashion stores to update her outfits. So when the gravy train slowed, well, I really liked the idea she'd whore herself even more, maybe having a little humiliation head her way the way I had to take it over our years of marriage.

All of a sudden it hit me.

"Okay, Nancy Jean, I will help out, but not in the office. People think it's odd you come in once a week, so twice a week would be pushing it," I said with a smile. "We will keep our Wednesday meetings as planned, but I also want a "road trip" each week."

At first she looked at me as if I was nuts, at least until the memories of our dating times were remembered.

Before we were married we'd sneak out of her parent's eyeshot and go on short "road trips" where we'd find some secluded spot to make love. Sometimes it would be a quickie in the park, other times a blow job in a parking lot. On pleasant nights we'd park near her house, so we could beat her dad's curfew, and meander down an old farm lane away from the main road. There on a blanket, we'd watch the stars and make out. No matter where it was always erotic, naughty and oh so very hot.

Those little escapades ended quickly after marriage. Heck, we had a bedroom and other rooms in our first apartment to savor each other's bodies. We'd do it on the kitchen counter, the shower and even the couch during a television show. But the road trips were a thing of history.

Nancy Jean's predicament was just what the doctor ordered to get those little dalliances happening like in the good old days.

At first Nancy Jean was reluctant to agree to my frivolous demand, but after a bit of prodding, and promise for a little "extra" in her monthly support, she agreed. For my part, I really didn't mind either, because I loved her parents and would probably helped them out myself had I known of their predicament. But now I could help and have my fantasies come true as well, to say nothing of the pleasure of embarrassing my former wife.

We decided that Friday would be as good a time as any to seal the deal. She came by my office at 5:30 and drove off in my car. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"You will see soon enough," I replied, slowly caressing her thigh.

I had given some thought to where we could go, finally coming up with an old baseball field near our former apartment. It was one of four diamonds there, not in use given the cool weather, and we parked and went for a walk. I headed toward the diamond farthest away from the car, and the only entry into the park, so we'd have at least a little advance notice of someone coming into the ball field complex.

We parked the car and I suggested we go for a walk. She would have preferred staying in the car, but with a little prodding we ended up in a baseball dugout, where I said the magic words: "Suck my dick, Nancy Jean."

It is every man's dream to have a woman obey his naughty commands, and here I was in a baseball dugout watching my ex-wife slip to her knees between my legs. As she was lowering my zipper and reaching into my boxers she had one request:: "Keep an eye out for someone coming by, this is quite a compromising situation Jon which wouldn't look good in the newspapers."

I agreed --- heck I'd have agreed to rob a bank at this point --- and watched as she slowly lowered by pants and began stroking my cock. Up and down her hand went until I was rock hard, at which time she lowered her head and kissed the tip of my manhood. The feeling was incredible. I mean, after hundreds of times it was still an amazing sensation when her lips met my dick.

It was easy to understand how she earned her reputation as a BJ Queen, as the girl could really act the part of a cock-sucking slut. She'd nibble around the tip, then slowly slide her tongue down the shaft. She'd alternate slow, sensuous licks with a mouthful of suction.

"On, Nancy Jean, you have a special talent, you are a wonderful dick licker," was my gasp and gulp comment as I watched the girl work. She was really getting into it, as was I, so much so that I didn't see we were being observed from a field over when dogs began barking. That caused me to look up and spy a guy walking his two dogs.

I couldn't tell if he could really see what was going on in the dugout, but suffice it to say he was clearly staring our way. That only brought more sensations to my brain, and I grasp Nancy Jean's head and helped guide it over my dick in an effort to speed the process. That worked exactly as planned, and soon I was shooting my manly seed into the depths of her mouth.

After she had swallowed my load I suggested she get up, mentioning that there was a guy coming our way. She jumped to her feet, looking around, and somehow missing the guy. Now presentable, we walked arm in arm back toward the car when she finally saw the guy. He was staring at us, shaking his head and moving his hand up and down in a jerk off motion and Nancy Jean knew from experience what had happened.

"He saw us, that's for certain," said my ex-wife. "He thinks I'm a slut."

I didn't disagree, and knew Nancy Jean's face was getting redder the more she thought about our being discovered. Still, she didn't say another word as we moved quickly to the car and sped away.

While I was very nervous about being "caught" I had to say it was very exciting. Probably because he was far enough away that we could have said, if confronted, he had no idea of what he actually saw and thought he saw. But in any event I enjoyed the blow job immensely and Nancy Jean wasn't any worse for wear save some smeared lipstick and some of my cum on her blouse.

Over the next week I thought of several scenarios I wanted to play out, fantasies that had never come true, probably never would until this situation arose. I decided to take advantage of my good luck.

Work got in the way of pleasure, but schedules meshed for a Saturday afternoon meeting. I suggested a late lunch in Harrisonburg, a good 100 miles down Interstate 81. That made no sense to Nancy Jean, but ultimately she thought it would be a pleasant drive, one where we could talk about whatever.

Along the way we passed a convoy of 18-wheelers, one which tooted his horn as we slowly drove past. "I think that was a compliment, I think he likes your top!" Nancy Jean was wearing a loose fitting, low cut top. I surmised from the trucker's actions that he must have been looking into the car and got a quick peek at my ex-wife's ample cleavage.

That reminded me of an old Playboy cartoon. In it a couple is driving down a seemingly deserted road when the guys ask her to bend over and lick his cock. He mentioned nobody could see. As the girl went down on him a bus was trekking along right behind, its occupants getting and eyeful of the cavorting couple in the car.

I remembered that cartoon as we began our drive, and decided that while maybe a busload of passengers might not be the best thing to do, a lonely trucker getting a peek of my ex-wife might be just what the doctor ordered.

Of course when I asked Nancy Jean to open her blouse and give the truckers a view it was met with utter dismay. I couldn't believe she was so embarrassed, so modest. Heck, she'd blown numerous guys "in the old days" and I'd caught her doing several over the years before our divorce.

Normally she'd bob her head on her terms. Still, showing a little tit didn't seem the same as blowing someone, so I didn't get her reluctance. But when I reminded her of the terms of our deal she ultimately acquiesced. Besides deep down I think she enjoyed the exhibitionist role.

Nancy Jean looked around then lifted her blouse, opening it so that only her frilly black bra stood between prying eyes and her bountiful breasts. She laid back in the passenger seat, eyes closed, as I clicked on the turn signal to pass. Accelerating, I slowly moved toward the driver's cab, hoping he'd look in his rear view mirror.

Whether he did or didn't I don't know, but when I was directly aside the truck and moving at the same speed I did look up through the moon roof and saw a bearded man do a double take when he noticed my wife's bra-encased chest. We drove a quarter of a mile or so side by side with the man stealing glances at my ex-wife.

I told Nancy Jean what was happening and she opened her eyes, and when she saw the man ogling her chest she covered her eyes with one hand in total embarrassment. As cars happened behind us I sped ahead and laughed at her dismay. "Aw, Nancy Jean, that was hot."

We were cruising at 65 when I noticed the truck speed to pass, getting about 10 yards to our back left and hanging there. I didn't know whether he was going to pass or not, until I realized he was looking in my side mirror at Nancy Jean. It was that look that got me in the mood to have her show a little more.

"Pull your pants down, Nancy Jean, hurry...you can leave your panties on," was my command.

My ex-wife looked at me as if I was crazy, but after more prodding she agreed. By then the truck had passed us, and I flicked my headlights at him to let him know he could safely pull in front of him. A tap of the brakes let me know he thanked me for the courtesy, but I think it was more for the show in the passenger seat.

Looking over Nancy Jean had her blue jeans down her thighs and above her knees and I was impressed with the frilly red panties that perfectly fit her. The woman spent a lot of time in Victoria's Secret or Fredericks, as these frilly undies didn't come from Macy's. They were simply adorable. But I wasn't going to be the only one who saw them.

I waited until several cars passed, saw there wasn't anything behind us, and repeated my passing action of earlier. Only this time I could see the driver straining to see Nancy Jean as I pulled up along side his vehicle. This time the guy nodded his head and gave us the thumbs up as Nancy Jean's bare legs showed to her panties. To help with the visual I stroked her thigh, casually slipping a finger into her panties. That brought a big "yippee" to the guys' lips.

Ahead I noticed we were gaining on another truck, no doubt because "our guy" had voiced his voyeuristic pleasure on the CB radio. We soon overtook that second truck as that driver stared intently at the show in the front seat of my car. Yes, the two truckers were communicating because he knew exactly what was to his left on the road.

Pulling in ahead of the truck I got a great idea! "Nancy Jean, suck my cock!"

My ex-wife shook her head. "You are incorrigible." Still she moved over, knelt on the front seat, and unzipped my pants. I helped her get my cock out, and, with a casual look behind bent over and slipped my dick into her wet, willing mouth.

The feeling was incredible and I had to hold the wheel tight and look at the road ahead to ensure safety. Looking in the rear view I noticed the trucker behind on the CB, and then watched as he pulled into the passing lane.

Again this trucker moved into a position where he could see first in my side window mirror, undoubtedly seeing my ex-wife gobbling cock. Then he pulled ahead and watched the action in his own wide mirror. I saw his head stretching for a perfect few.

He pulled in ahead and was followed by the second trucker who repeated the actions of the first, topping things off with a toot on his air horn.

I felt like a sultan, a king of the hill. Looking behind there wasn't a car in sight, so I pulled out and pulled up next to the second trucker. Looking through the moon room I saw him alternating his view of the road and truck ahead and Nancy Jean sucking my cock. That's when I realized he could see her panty-clad ass too. Damn, that must have been a great sight.

I fondled her ass before slipping those pretty panties down to her thighs. Playing with her ass some more as she blew me I gave the trucker a thrill by spreading the ass cheeks a little to give him a better view. The man gave me a thumbs up sign, and then signaled me to put my hand on Nancy Jean's head.

I did as he asked, guiding her up and down my cock.

It was so hot feeling her mouth on my dick and being watched. It was like he was right in our bedroom, but the thrill of drilling her mouth at 60 miles-per-hour was totally awesome. When he pointed ahead, I sped up and gave the second trucker a view of my ex-wife. His reaction was the same as the first, but he waved at me to spank the girl.

Again I followed directions, slowly spanking her behind with soft yet firm strokes, and that did it for me. I shot off several volleys of cum into her willing, sucking mouth. Nancy Jean purred at my actions, seemingly loving every minute of it. What topped things off, though, was after cleaning my cock and swallowing my load she sat on the passenger side and glanced over at the trucker.