It took me a few days but my body soon recovered from the severe hangover. The sadness left my body but guilt and anger remained. For weeks I pondered whether or not I should confess my indiscretion to my husband, Steve. The longer I waited to say something the more fearful I became of what his reaction might be. I finally decided it was best not to say anything and to just keep it a secret.
However, something inside me had changed since the party. John fucking my face to the most pleasurable orgasm I had had in years flipped a switch back on in my brain. It brought back old, powerful cravings to suck more cock. For weeks I tried satisfying those cravings with Steve, fucking and sucking him off as many as three times a day (bless his heart), but, it was insufficient. Every day I would catch myself staring at random men visualizing them violently fucking my mouth while calling me slut and whore.
What was worse were the reoccurring dreams about being in the bathroom at the party. One dream was of me pretending to be passed out and letting Bob molest me; probing my body thoroughly with his dirty hands. Sometimes it was other men from the party taking turns doing the same thing. More disturbing still was the replay of what happened with John. Only in my dreams, when he starts calling me slut and whore, I end up begging him to fuck me. I would always wake up from these dreams extremely wet, horny, and obsess over them all day long.
I had assumed that I had out grown my obsessive longings for different cock in my mouth and that need could be satisfied through my relationship with one man. But I began to doubt that belief as everyday my urges grew stronger and more extreme. It was just like being back in school and I was beginning to believe what John had said; I was a cock slut and a dirty whore. In moments when I accepted being a slut I felt comfort and solitude in my heart.
It was almost two weeks after the party and I was home by myself on my day off when I got an email from John, "I know what it takes to keep this secret, do you?" and, there was a video attachment.
My hand shook as I clicked on the video. I appeared on screen waste up to one side, John's legs and huge cock throbbed pointing straight at my face on the other, "what would Jennifer say?" I watched myself ask.
I realized that when John had put his phone on the bathroom counter he had it recording everything; I felt sick to my stomach.
"Nobody ever needs to know about this," John's voice answered, "I know how to keep a secret. Do you?" I saw myself agree with a nod. "Show me your tits, I've been craving to see them all day," his voice asked. As I stared at the cock in front of me I did what he asked, "you're fucking perfect," he groaned. I then put my hands on his thighs and leaned forward with an open mouth looking up out of frame. The cock entered my mouth and the video ended.
The fucker was blackmailing me. I began to scream and swear, I was angry beyond reproach. I stomped around the house for over an hour cursing and ranting, afraid and disgusted. I was mortified as I watched the video several more times trying to think of ways to discrediting it. Unfortunately, I didn't even look drunk, I seemed extremely willing and eager, almost begging him. It looked like it could have been shot at any time during the party and I imagined John would make that argument if it came down to it. I knew that if Steve saw it he would be devastated; it was clear evidence of my broken promise and my history would only make it worse, not to mention the fact that John's cock was bigger than Steve's would crush him too.
I was disgusted as I imagined all the things that John would blackmail me into doing to keep this video secret. It enraged me to the core. That's why I became highly confused when I realized I was soaking wet and exceedingly horny. I was really beginning to hate myself.
***************
Back in High School our quarterback was one of my regulars. He had a big dick that I couldn't get enough of, and, even though he had a steady girlfriend I would suck him dry every chance I got. One day, during class, he snuck me into the boy's room where we took up residence in one of the stalls. He liked it when I did all the work so I sat on the toilet, pulled his already hard dick out of his pants, and squeezed his balls while swallowing his long shaft. Normally that was as far as I would go but I felt particularly dirt being in the boy's room, so, for the first time I didn't stop him when he began pulling at the bottom of my sweater. I wasn't wearing a bra and soon my sweater was on the floor and his hands were all over my bare tits. I loved being felt up while sucking cock and my quarterback was being particularly rough; it felt so good.
He was taking a long time to cum even though I was using all my tricks, including licking his balls while he was all the way down my throat. I didn't mind, I loved sucking his cock and could do it all day. But, I became very unnerved when I happened to look past him and saw the stall door open and our fat English teacher, Mr. Erickson, quietly watching with a stern look on his face. Just as I started to pull back the quarterback grabbed my head pulling my face against his groined and started cumming deep in my throat. True to form, I too began to orgasm; not only from the sperm in shooting in my throat, but from the humiliation of it happening in front of my fat teacher. Sure, I liked him enough, he was actually very nice and a great teacher, but he was so old and fat that until that moment I had never considered him as a possible subject for cock sucking.
"Are you done now?" he asked before either of us had finished our orgasms. The quarterback was completely startled and pulled away from me with a fright still shooting cum which was sprayed in my face, hair, and all over my chest. He quickly bolted from the stall, pulling his pants up on the way, leaving me sitting there topless with Mr. Erickson staring me down. I didn't know what to do but cover my tits with my arms and look for my top, which had been inadvertently kicked into the next stall by the quarterback's quick exit.
My imagination quickly envisioned a chastising that would turn into pleas for forgiveness and then a blowjob. I could feel my pussy getting wetter with every passing second and I could see by the bulge in Mr. Erickson's pants that he was thinking the same thing. "This isn't the place or the time for this sort of activity, is it Tiffany?" he chastised. I shook my head slowly back and forth noting agreement. Adding to both my humiliation and excitement, I felt cum to dripping from my chin to my chest, "Get dressed then," he instructed not even trying to avert his gaze.
"Yes sir" I answered, the tears swelling in my eyes. I let my arms drop sooner than necessary and looked down to for my top. "Please don't tell anyone, this is very embarrassing for me," I pleaded feeling actual panic and hearing it in my voice. I was expecting he'd take the bait and begin to blackmail me, "It would ruin my reputation, and my parents will take everything from me," I continued begging.
I finally saw my sweater and had to drop on all fours to retrieve it as my teacher said nothing but kept watching. I was fully crying when I sat on my ankles at his feet, put the sweater in my lap and began pulling toilet paper from the roll. "Please don't say anything, his girlfriend will kill me and everyone will think I'm a slut." I used the toilet paper to thoroughly wipe the tears and semen from my face and body paying extra attention to my breasts and nipples as I continued to cry and beg. I looked up and saw the bulge in his pants was bigger than before and believed I had him.
