(Grace) Is in simple pleasures

It wasn’t as if Grace would say she particularly minded gulping down all these salty offerings over a day… In fact, in her heart of hearts… the dedicated young scholar had to admit she rather saw it as her hobby. Her homely pastime. Other girls might paint, or play music, or knit… while she… Gobbled down cock.

There was something relaxing about it. Meditative. Therapeutically simple. She genuinely enjoyed just the idea of making other people feel good, and here was a quite direct way of achieving that. All she had to do was open up wide and let whoever it was slide on down her gullet. Of course… she had developed a plethora of techniques to accompany that. No-one had ever accused the cheery young lady of not being thorough. But… compared to all the complicated intertwining social connections of high school life and the huge depth of human knowledge she was trying to cram into her head all the time… Just having one piece of swollen man-meat to focus on seemed a blessing. She could have a moment to think to herself. Parse through her plans for the day. Enjoy the subtle reactions of another being to just THIS particular movement of her tongue.

And she was good at it… in a very objective and believable sense. Of course, a lot of people seemed to think she was good at everything, friends included; without any acknowledgement of the amount of work she put in. Yet when she could feel a man’s pleasure steadily building. The twitch and throb of him slowly rising toward that one final explosion… She stopped doubting herself for a moment. She basked in the thankful praise they gave her. Swirling it around her mouth in an instant of pure, unadulterated joy… It was a primal. Dirty. Slimy thing to so enjoy and embrace. So far away from the almost-prudish persona that other’s thought of her. That was what she liked about it more than anything. It was her kink! And she was as proud of it as her grade-point average… She just sometimes wished people would stop asking her to exercise one of those skill-sets, at times when it might well threaten the other. It was so very hard to write legible notes while also deepthroating… If only she could stop feeling guilty about ever saying no...

Simone and Grace both shared literature as their first period class, much to the relief of the latter. Here was one blessed moment when the renown of her tongue was never much demanded. Mr Walker was one of those sparkling young teachers who might be called a ‘complete hotty’ by her contemporaries… and was almost universally crushed upon. Sometimes there were literally lines of students, both male and female, queuing up to be one of the more ‘intimate’ participants in his lessons. Mary-lynn, one of the less… academic of their classmates had once proclaimed “I could stick my tongue in that man's asshole every lesson all year… I still wouldn't learn nothin’ bout T.S. Eliot though!” This obviously led to a whole round of challenges and bets… which, as far as Gracey could tell, the girl was still winning.

However, this class also contained a greater proportion of Simones’ fan-club/tormentors than usual… The more poetic boys seeming to take great delight in all the imaginative words she called them after each ambush. Young miss Yarland was still to this day not sure whether her sharp-tongued friend actually liked all this unseemly attention she garnered… if asked she would, of course, announce that she despised it. Still, her responses when come up upon in this class were always PARTICULARLY verbose and creative... as well as, impressively, never repeated. Grace knew this because two of the young men kept meticulous records, in a specially-made book with Sim’s last yearbook photo on it… They had really gone to town on her that day… she could barely open her eyes at the camera.

Grace tried to help out where she could. If one of the potential assailants spent too long hovering, she would take hold of the situation herself. No schoolboy was going to refuse a free handjob, so she could divert his ejaculate toward her own recesses. The well-endowed girl found her cleavage made a good receptacle for this… She hated to think of making more work for the already ever-busy cleaning staff, but couldn't bare to swallow much more in a day than she already did. Having a slightly-soggy bra she could deal with. Besides, fresh semen was ‘the scent of success’ according to Cum-Bubblers Weekly, and one that no perfume manufacturer had managed to replicate properly yet! The young intellectual didn't quite swear by the advice in those silly, glossy rags quite so much as her friends and peers… buuuut it didn't hurt to keep abreast of the latest inane trends. Simone gave her a ‘thank you’ smile anyway… The dark haired girl seemed to be panickedly crossing through half-formed lines in her notebook's margins. Perhaps her famed talent took a little more work than she let on…