Blake and the Blowjobs… chapter 26

A young woman’s problems in a highly pornified future world.

That morning, the two men who had banged me so hard were sleeping in. Old Craggy Face and the Handsome Young man looked cute together nude and in bed. I searched for my clothes and then remembered that I wasn’t wearing any when I came in. From my overnight bag, I produced a skirt that could almost pass for a belt and a top that was really only a bra. I needed that for support, not modesty. Looking up into the ceiling mirror, I saw I was showing off huge deep cleavage. Actually, I looked rather cute. The diet had been working; I was not slim, but not such a porker. Soon I might even be able to go off my blowjob free diet. I hoped that Blake would be impressed and want to ride me off into the undiscovered country.

I gave a couple quick kisses to my two dozing nameless ravishers and quietly slipped out of the hotel room.

I resolved to keep working on the diet and skip even my twenty-eight calories of tomato juice. Then proceeding down to the restaurant, I spotted Mom and Charles and Junior at a table. They were a mess, Mom and Charles, Junior was as annoyingly cheerful as usual. Mom and Charles looked tired, but happy. Last night in the common orgy room had been rough. They had masochistically bruised and abused thighs. Apparently they had gotten no sleep and made themselves free-to-use for every stranger in the room, male or female.

I told them, “Guys, I am driving today. Neither of you are up to it.” There was no reaction. Then I looked for a breakfast menu, before I remembered that I was going to skip breakfast.

There were no menus; a tiny cup of strong coffee appeared almost as I sat down, then other things, deceptively, one at a time. Like this: grapefruit, milk, oatmeal with cream, penis-shaped sausage and eggs and toast and butter and jam, bananas and cream - then when you were sure that they had played themselves out, in came the fluffiest waffle in the world, more butter and strawberry jam and syrup, and then more coffee. I ate all of it, my personality split hopelessly between despair and ecstasy. There went the diet; I thought that I will have to be on my blowjob free diet forever at this rate. I missed cum and I am sure that it missed my mouth.

While eating, I saw the nameless Handsome Young man from last night. His eyes locked with mine and he walked over to me. He kissed my cheek and loudly whispered, “Thank you for taking my innocence.” Then he walked out of the restaurant and over to his truck.

I was speechless! He was no virgin! It was just that there was something kinky that he hadn’t done before. I pushed him into trying it. While he was eating out my kitty another Old Craggy Face blew him. I just got him to do something different. Was that really a loss of innocence?

Mother was looking at me with surprise and pride. I shut up, kept my head down and went back to eating.

Mom and Charles were picking at their food. Junior salvaged and gobbled down their leftovers. As I finished, rested and started digesting, I saw a young woman wearing kneepads slipping under her table. At her table was a truck driver, with big muscular arms. She started undoing his belt buckle and sliding down his pants. She started licking him, then she bobbed her head up and down on his cock.

You wouldn’t catch me doing it that way. Kneepads? What a novice! When I was young, I wondered why my late grandmother had such thick calluses on her knees. Mother had the same. Now my own knees have thick, hardened, and darkened skin caused by my repeated kneeing in front of horny men. Lots of horny men. I earned my nickname Suckin’.

The trucker moaned into his breakfast. The woman under the table spat into a tissue and left it on the floor. The twit left it on the floor! I could have slapped her, what a waste of decent cum! I have put kilograms of fat onto my frame with all the men I have swallowed. I wished that they served cum on these waffles. Cum is my favourite meal!

We rolled out of there with the wonderful feeling of a full stomach. "Breakfast," said Charles, "should be compulsory, like education. I hypothesize that a correlation could be found between the modern tendency to skip breakfast and the increase in juvenile delinquency.”

I said nothing. Men are my weakness; food my ruin-but at that moment I didn't care.