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Confessions of a Cum Slut Pt. 09

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Chapter 12 — Alex

(Sappho and Socrates in the Back Seat)

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My ride to Spring Break was in Alicia’s car, the Girl-Mobile—a vintage pink Cadillac convertible that looked like a giant lawn flamingo. But it was roomy, with bench seats front and back (in separate time zones), and a huge trunk that looked like you could land airplanes on it—so there was ample space to squeeze me in. It got terrible mileage, but Jen had Daddy’s credit card for fuel, so it didn’t matter to her if anyone kicked in gas money (I offered. She just laughed.).

There were five of us—four Eta Pi sorority sisters: Jen and Alicia: a couple, both Juniors, willowy and blond; Marcie; short, busty, foul-mouthed and footloose a Freshman; Alex, dark and stocky, quiet, with curly hair, dimples, and deep brown eyes—a senior.

Then there was me, Cindy: small, looking closer to 15 than 18 (but you can check my ID, go ahead, everyone else does…) pretty enough, I guess, fair skinned (okay, pale), with itty-bitty titties. (But they’re nice!) Also a raging cum slut, but I had discretely failed to mention that.

We all piled in, rolled the windows down, turned the radio up loud, Alicia stepped on the gas, and we took off, two tires and five girls squealing.

It occurred to me that Alex and I were embarking on what amounted to a week-long blind date—I know, crazy, right? We had one (fairly sexy) phone chat, checked each other out on the front porch, liked what we saw, and jumped into the car with the others. Just like that.

Everybody knows that shit happens, but you know what? So does magic. So does fucking magic.

I was the designated navigator for the first leg. Alex and I were instant buddies and rode shotgun together with our legs draped over each other and a map spread across both our laps, cheerfully disputing the insistent directions coming out of everyone’s smartphone simultaneously.

We were headed for Panama City Beach—America’s Spring Break Party Capitol—as were, I soon learned, the boys of Delta Pi fraternity (Not to Boca, as Chaz had said; Chaz was a lying sack of weasels.)

Being young and full of something or other, we decided to shorten the trip by driving straight through—a 24-hour marathon, we calculated, changing drivers every six hours. (But, being girls, we had to take potty breaks every 2 hours—at non-gross rest rooms—making it closer to 28 hours, total. But anyway.)

We started out pumped up, boisterous, and loud, gradually deflating as the hours went by, getting quieter and quieter.

About sixteen hours into the trip, we were riding along through the dark in silence, leaning on each other and taking catnaps, when the car started to smell unmistakably of aroused pussy. Jen and Alicia were sharing a lap blanket in the back seat, hands out of sight, eyes straight ahead, and surreptitiously finger-fucking.

Marcie, Alex, and I elaborately pretended not to notice, for a while. Then things got louder and squishier, and we giggled and poked each other, until finally things started to get frantic and heated, and we pulled over. The three of us got out and stood under the cool night sky while Jen and Alicia made a heaving, sixty-nine shaped mound under the tiny blanket. Eventually the car stopped rocking, and we got back in.

Alex stopped me on my way in the door and kissed me, gently at first, then with gradually increasing thoroughness. I felt competing urges, one to simply submit and enjoy being kissed and the other to match her, passion for passion.

She broke off the kiss. “You’re trying to figure out what I want,” she said.

“Hm? Oh. I guess you’re right. I was.”

“Well I want… you to stop doing that. And to figure out what you want.”

I gazed a moment into her warm brown eyes. “I know what I want.”

“And?”

I moved to the rear door. “Alicia? Jen? Would you mind trading seats with me and Alex for a while?”

“Do you want the blanket, too?” Jen asked cattily.

“No, thanks.” I waited until Alicia and Jen had left us the space, then handed Alex into the back, touched her to pause before she sat, and gently pulled her cargo shorts and panties down to her ankles. Then I sat her down, shut the door, and kneeled between her legs in the narrow space between the front and back seats, glad that Marcie was driving and had the seat all the way forward.

“This is what I want,” I said, speaking softly into her silky pubic hair. “This is what I’ve wanted since I first heard your voice over the phone.”

The other girls were shocked into silence as I lifted Alex’s ass, pulled her toward me, and began to calmly, attentively, and thoroughly eat her, from her fragrant slit to the fine down on the top of her mound, licking and tasting everything in between. I inhaled her aroma appreciatively, then began to suck on her with a soft slurping sound. Jen started to say something, but Alicia stopped her, licked a finger generously, and dipped it in her own shorts, apparently çanakkale escort inspired to finish something Jen had started.

“That’s it!” said Marcie. “It’s someone else’s turn to drive.”

“I will,” said Jen uncomfortably, trading places with Marcie by sliding over her in the front seat, “if you’re all going to sit around and… finger yourselves.”

“I’m not fingering myself,” Alex said regally. “I’m having my pussy licked, and my, uhm, ah, oh! Clit. Sucked!” she finished with as gasp. “Oh, fuck. Oh, finish me now please, Cindy. Put a finger inside. Yes! Ah. Yes… Ohh! Thank you, just like that, Just. Like. That…”

She wrapped her hands tenderly in my hair and drew me up into her, pressing her clitoris softly into my suction. My mouth and finger seemed to have absorbed my whole sensorium. My universe consisted of my mouth, my finger, and Alex’s sensitive, responsive cunt. I could feel where it wanted me to lick, where to probe, where to slide my tongue, when to suck.

Alex’s hands remained gentle, but her thighs tightened rock hard. As she squeezed her hardest, just a drop of urine dribbled out. I ignored it. I sucked her clit, licking down to the base of her shaft from her tip then up again, endlessly, swirling my tongue over her tip each time. She came soon, hard, with near-silent intensity. Her ragged breathing deepened, slowed, and then she relaxed, letting out a long sigh.

“THAT was nice,” she said.

“Amen,” said Alicia, with a small catch to her voice, withdrawing her finger and sucking it thoughtfully.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Just a. Second! fuck-fuck-fuck, Oh, oh. OH!” replied Marcie. “Whew! You guys were driving me crazy!”

Hey, we were teenagers, right? (Alex was 20) Teens basically conform to each other, following the ones who act most confident. You can get us to dance the Watusi, put flowers in our hair, or stick safety pins through our cheeks. We’re flexible. Where Jen and Alicia’s furtiveness made everyone look away, Alex and my sexual openness sucked everyone in.

Well, almost everyone. Jen slid the driver’s seat sharply backward and pulled onto the deserted highway in a fishtailing spray of gravel. “Sluts,” she remarked, casually.

“I’m sorry, did the kettle just say something to the pots?” Alicia teased.

“God, you taste good,” I murmured to Alex, settling beside her as she pulled her pants up.

“You say that to all the girls,” Alex answered, coyly but seriously.

“Bus-ted,” trilled Marcie.

I hesitated. I meant it, but she was right. I’d said it often before. I thought about it. “What’s true is true,” I said finally. “You smell nice, too.”

“That’s because she shampoos her twat with ‘Gee, Your Ass Smells Terrific’, Jen deadpanned. We all cracked up. When the laughter faded, we drifted in a comfortable, largely post-orgasmic silence.

“Sorry about the pee,” Alex whispered in my ear later, too softly for the others to hear.

“Didn’t bother me,” I told her truthfully. “Do you always?”

“Usually. A drop or two. I have to squeeze so hard to get over the edge sometimes. You really don’t mind?”

“It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose. Anyway, it’s what you do. And I… like you. So…” I shrugged to indicate it was nothing.

“How did that feel? Doing what you want, instead of what you think I want?”

“Good. It felt really good.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder. “Learn anything about yourself?”

“I like it, when people watch me have sex, or listen to it, and get aroused. It turns me on.”

“So, how will what you’ve learned change you?” she asked. It seemed like she’d run this kind of dialogue before—she was making me really examine myself.

“I’m going to go down on you in public, in front of anyone, any time you want me to. Any time you’re willing.”

She shivered a little, under her hips.”This is going to be really fun. Mmmm.” She pressed her lips against my forehead.

“Say, Alex, who taught you the ‘learning dialogue’ thing you do?” I asked.

“Oh, that?” she replied, sounding puzzled by the question. “Socrates.”

“Oh. Right.” Duh.

Everyone slept except for me and Jen, behind the wheel and pressing on into the night, silent again. A couple of hours later, Jen started to yawn and I offered to drive. We swapped places and she slept too, leaning against Alex.

I drove until morning, listening to the other girls breathe, alone with my thoughts. I was oddly at peace, even though I hadn’t sucked a cock or had an orgasm all day. Something about Alex settled me.

It got rapidly lighter, and I noticed there were no hills, none at all. Florida was as flat as a pool table. The sun came up suddenly, dazzling, igniting the waters of the Gulf of Mexico on our right.

The whole car was redolent with the special odor of an intimate all-girl sleepover: eau d’pussy. Alex’s scent lingered on my upper lip and finger. I smiled. It was beginning to smell a lot like Spring çanakkale escort bayan Break.

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Chapter 13 — Alex Redux

Finding My Inner Cum Slut

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Eta Pi sorority had rented a party house near the beach for the week. It was a maze of single-story additions tacked onto a cheap tract home, including a two-car garage subdivided into six “rooms” using a lot of plywood and extension cords. Typical student warrens.

Most of the girls were headed straight to The Beach—a bar that opened right onto the sand and served a Spring Break breakfast special: Bloody Marys for a dollar, until nine a.m. The Party Started Now.

I needed to shower, then sleep for a few hours before I went anywhere. Alex stayed too, and found us a tiny cubby that we could claim as our own, then she went to shower while I slept. When I woke, Alex was sitting cross legged beside me, naked, reading a book. I hadn’t dressed after my shower, just pulled a sheet over me and closed my eyes.

Alex put her book down, peeled the sheet back off my naked body, and looked me slowly up and down—feasting on me with her eyes, lingering on my small breasts with their big pink nipples, and my darker pink, pouty pussy lips—then laid down beside me with her head facing the other way. She raised a knee, propping her foot on an ankle and swinging it up, exposing her rich brown labia to my gaze. My mouth watered. I mirrored her, exposing my little pink twat, and we both leaned in, mouth to labia, to explore each other. Her freshly showered cunt smelled and tasted amazing.

I happily lost myself in Alex-land for almost two hours, finding what she liked, what she didn’t, sampling her tastes and textures—just getting to know her—learning the unique architecture of the hood and folds enclosing her clitoris: it was round and stubby, capped with a thick hood that retracted with a tongue thrust to expose silk-thin folds around a tip almost too sensitive to touch directly.

During my long, succulent explorations I managed to secure a pair of elusive Alex-gasms; the first one was shy, hiding at the base of her clitoris, and she helped squeeze it out into my mouth, guiding my hand to her nipple, and showing me how hard I needed to pinch. I caught her second orgasm by surprise, in the open: I hadn’t stopped after the first, and Alex was just relaxing and enjoying the sensations, with no particular agenda, when my lips and tongue came upon it, or when Alex came on my lips and tongue, or whatever. Anyway, it surprised us both. It was nice.

Alex meanwhile was meticulously investigating my own machinery of joy, like the curious scientist she was. She hadn’t turned up any orgasms, but I was enjoying the attention, the pleasure of her touch, and the inventiveness of her ever-inquiring tongue, which was currently probing the inside of my ass. The sensation was exquisite.

She came up for air and leaned back, all Alex-serious. “Cindy, why are you having sex with me?”

“Because I like you.”

“Is that all? It’s a lot, actually, but what else?”

She made me really think, at the damnedest times. But I liked it. “You’re new to me. I enjoy exploring.”

“I haven’t given you a climax yet. I haven’t really even come close. Am I doing something wrong?”

“I’m purely loving everything you’re doing down there, Alex. There isn’t a thing wrong with the way you touch me, or tongue me, or kiss me, or…”

She laughed. “Stop. you’re getting me hot again. What am I missing? What do you need to reach a satisfying climax? A big one, like you gave me last night?”

I sighed. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Tell me?”

I sat up. “All right.” And I did—the whole story: about Linda Sue and the little pink dildo, and her boyfriend spurting semen in my mouth at the exact moment she allowed me to cum for the first time; about masturbating at the glory hole while sucking cock after anonymous cock; about Lonni, my lost lesbian she-male lover… even about Twylla putting me on a leash, tying me up, and serving my sex for dessert, and finally about how I could substitute clit worship for cock worship sometimes, and still climax.

Alex was fascinated. More than fascinated. She was rapt.

“Cindy, you are a rare and amazing creature. I think I love you. I know I love the idea of you! But your story’s gotten me so hot I cant think. Will you fuck me again, with your finger inside me and sucking that way you do? I think I can really help you. But right now all I can think about is cumming. So help me, first. I want to think clearly about just you.”

“You don’t need a reason for me to fuck you, Alex. You’re orgasms are so pretty. I could eat them for hours.”

She shuddered, rolled onto her back, closed her eyes, and opened her legs to me. “Eat one now, please” she said invitingly.

And I did.

I rooted in that beautiful pussy with abandon, licking and sucking for all I was worth. escort çanakkale Now I knew just what she liked. My tongue flicked in and out of her ass while my finger circled just inside her wet, slippery tunnel and my thumb rubbed the base of her clitoris repeatedly. She squirmed, pumping her hips against me. Then I let my left hand drift up her body and pinch her nipple, hard, the way she needed, while my right hand impaled her with two fingers deep into her dark, aromatic twat, corkscrewing, lifting her up by her cunt. I popped her clit in and out between my lips, like I was sucking up and spitting out a big watermelon seed, faster and faster, until her whole body contracted, tightened, seized, and then relaxed completely.

Alex wasn’t a screamer; she held her breath and squeezed when she came. No pee this time, just Alex sauce,: light, tangy, and almost sweet. I slipped my fingers out as gently as I had shoved them in rough, giving her what she needed both times.

I was still wiping pussy drool off my face with my trusty bandana when Alex popped her laptop out of her overnight bag, set it on her naked lap, and started typing. I looked over her shoulder, but she waved me away, pointing at a binder in her bag. I flipped it open and looked at the title page: “Socratic Transformative Sexual Therapy: A New Paradigm.” It was her senior thesis.

The language was a dense jumble that seems to be required for a thesis. I guess if it’s too easy to understand, it doesn’t seem deep enough, or something. It was actually kind of interesting, but after a while my eyes sort of glazed over.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alex said cheerfully, closing the binder for me. “You got further than anyone has yet except my thesis advisor. But it’s going to get a lot more interesting now that I’ve met you.”

“Me? Because of my …needing to suck cock to cum thing?”

“That’s such a small part of it. What’s really interesting is how you’ve adapted, changed and opened up in response to it, and most of all, what you do with it next. Cindy, do you know what you want? Really?”

“No, not really,” I admitted. “I have desires, yearnings… but I don’t know what I really want, not in the long run.”

“Would you like me to help you find out?”

“Hell, yes. Do you really think you can?”

She nodded. “I do. By asking you a series of sexually arousing questions and measuring your response—discovering and revealing what you actually want, step by step.”

“Measuring? How?”

“I’ll show you,” she said smugly, “but we’ll need some of my toys.”

I watched her fish in her bag for a smart watch, a slender probe, and her iPhone. “With these I can monitor your heart rate, breathing, pupil dilation, and nipple hardening,” she explained, putting the watch on my wrist and zooming the phone’s camera on my face and chest, mounting it on a little tripod thingie. She slipped the probe into my cunt. “Bluetooth,” she said. “Vaginal secretions— very important.” She launched an app on her iPhone and typed a few commands into her laptop.

“There’s an app for that?” I asked, incredulous.

She dimpled. “I’m developing one. The camera and watch are really easy to access through the API, but getting at the bluetooth data is a cast-iron bitch,” she said casually, not really expecting me to understand. “It’s still a prototype, but it mostly works.”

She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, took out a bottle of oil, rubbed it between her palms to warm it, and spread it lovingly over my labia and clitoris, dribbling a little into my asshole and gently working it in. I shivered. Then she peeled the gloves off neatly and went back to typing on her laptop—no messy oil on her keyboard.

“Right. Let’s begin.”

Her voice took on a sleepy, droning quality. “Relax, and listen to my voice. I want you to take a deep breath, let it out, and begin to stroke yourself, just pleasuring yourself, with no goal, no destination. Keep your eyes open, but begin to forget where you are. Listen only to my voice. I’m going to describe sexual experiences, as if they were happening to you.

“Listen to my voice, and visualize each experience I describe. Let yourself feel the sensations. Let your fingers move freely, doing whatever feels natural. At times you may feel very aroused. If you have an orgasm, say ‘I’m cumming’, or ‘I came,’ each time. Will you do that, Cindy?”

“Yes,” I said, feeling a strange tingle of arousal.

“Listen to my voice. Let yourself feel the sensations I describe. A woman is kissing your breast, caressing it, sucking your nipple, making it hard…

She is still at your breast, but now a man is sucking on your other nipple. A man and a woman are caressing your breasts, both at once, licking your nipples, arousing you…

Now the woman has been replaced by another man. Two men are fondling your breasts, one sucking on each…

Their hands are rough…

Too rough…

They are women now. Two women are kissing your breasts and licking your nipples…

Biting your nipples…

Biting harder…

Now a mouth is sucking and licking your clitoris, a warm mouth, a skilled mouth…

You don’t know whose mouth it is…”

Each time she paused, Alex recorded a series of measurements. I drifted, awake but in a dream. The things Alex described became more and more real to me.

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