Competition

Sarah and I have been in an arms race. As in, who can act the sluttiest. I didn't mean to start it.

It all began in November 2019, or a few months pc (pre covid). I'd been dating this guy, and the three of us were watching tv. No big deal. The guy and I were off to one side, snuggling on the couch, under a blanket. Sarah was lying on the floor in front of us. The movie was boring, and I realized he was boring, so I squeezed his dick. The guy will never be named in this entire story. He’s immaterial. The key event didn’t involve him. It just involved his dick.

Basically, the semi-public dick squeeze was born of nostalgia. That evening in November, I was nestled in his arms, calmly eating popcorn, getting bored by a movie, and debating whether to break up before or after Thanksgiving. At the very moment that I silently concluded that we should break up ASAP, I began to feel sentimental. Not sentimental about him. He was tedious and too young. What I knew I’d miss was his dick.

It wasn’t perfect. Short and thin, with a bend to the right, his young dick was best for short bursts. I don’t think it had ever lasted more than 7 minutes inside any of my holes, and the median was maybe 5. His was not a cock to inspire opera. Nevertheless, as my mother never, ever said, no two cocks are alike, and in a world full of unpredictability and disappointment, his short, thin dick was a reliably able to scratch my itch.

Basically, I’d come to view his dick much as I do a utility infielder for the Yankees. Nothing fancy, but energetic, attentive, and reliable. It wouldn’t be the big bucks outfielder or the All Star relief pitcher, but his was at least on the team. And, for a dick, it smelled nice—like the soap at summer camp, though I should quickly add that showers at summer camp were the only place I could be alone, so they were also the only place I could safely rub one out, which had led to the first time I licked a pussy, but I digress.

So with a solid utility dick in hand, we’d settled into our routine: a squeeze or two, a reliable hard on. A focused blow job for a few minutes, and he’d cum. Okay, the guy was 23, so it’s not like I was some sort of sexual magician. At that point, some guys would fall asleep or text their friends about fantasy football, but the owner of my Reliable Dick would always, always want to go down on me. Which I’d allow, of course, since a vibrating jaw with lots of tongue was a sure fire way to my heart. Okay, not my heart, but at least my orgasms. Yes, plural. If I had the time and interest to want to get fucked, I'd blow him again, mainly to get him back to his full (though small) size. I liked the fact that his size made it easy for me to pound my mouth to his pubes. I'd only do it for a few seconds, which was long enough for me to feel pornish (without the gagging) and also long enough for me to smile about what my mother would think about her slutty daughter (but not long enough to start to feel any actual guilt). And it would occur to me—while sliding his dick between my teeth—that I could ravage his entire life in a moment. No, not by biting it off, but simply by saying, “y’know, it never occurred to me that I’d be excited by such a small penis. Does it bother you that your penis is short and slender?” I knew that such a sentence would make me part of his traumatic memories for the next 50 years, which would prompt a grim and speed me towards convulsive cumming.

So, as I said, the fellatio + cunnilingus might be the prelude to some actual dick into slit vagina, but it was 50:50.

And in regards to intercourse, we were also about 50:50 as to who was on top. Well, as I think I've implied, I was always on top in a metaphoric sort of way, but there are times when it's nice to just lie there and let the guy grab my butt and get up a good head of steam. Sometimes, I’d respond, but other times, I’d lie there and giggle like an Asian porn star trying to seem like she was inexperienced, getting ****, and somehow unable to say anything but a whispered, “Nyah.” White men seemed to love the little Asian girl vibe. Asian men would probably love it, too, but I’d only fucked one as an experiment. The biggest difference: only the guy visiting from Seoul every called me amkae while pretending to strangle me while fucking me doggy style. That had been a funny moment. Funny as in strange. Other guys had called me a slut, of course, but I’d always taken it as a sign of affection, as if they viewed me as slutty with them (which would be flattering to both of us) but not slutty as in wanton or damaged or indiscriminate. From the guy who didn’t speak English, amkae sounded dirty and mean. I should add that particular Asian guy’s penis was out of me within 2 seconds, and the jerk was dressed and on the curb within 3 minutes. As I’ve tried to explain, don’t fuck with me.

Back to my reliably dicked boy/man friend of last November... The problem with sex after we’d both cum was that was reliably longer lasting during round two, which led to problems with time management. I should probably go back a few paragraphs and tell you that his cock would grind on like the energizer bunny for upwards of half an hour if he’d come less than an hour earlier. But y’know, I’m writing this with memories awash and three fingers crammed into my slit, so fuck you if you think I’m going to edit so as to give other people a fair shake into immortality.

Anyway, round two could stretch indefinitely. Between the sweat and the episodic dick softening, and my own tendency to cum more easily with my own fingers or a warm tongue rather than a pounding penis (and pounding penises have their place, but they aren’t known for subtlety), we’d definitely stray into the territory of diminishing returns, if you know what I mean.

Knowing this, our most common sexual act would consist of me servicing myself while blowing him, followed by his going down on me. I could cum at least 3 times in 15 minutes, which is pretty damned efficient if you ask me. And you have asked me, sort of, by continuing to read this glop.

Anyway, on the Saturday night in question, Sarah, the guy, and I were watching a boring movie in our living room. He and I were snuggling under a blanket on the couch. Sarah was lying facedown on the floor in front of us.

As I said earlier, on the night in question, I had an epiphany. Things had to change, and it certainly wasn't going to be me who did any changing. I looked at the guy, and he transformed--in front of my eyes--to being an ex boyfriend.

Freed from relationship uncertainty, I was suddenly filled with a sort of rueful nostalgia. Oddly enough, that moment took on a sci fi quality: I was in a time warp in which I was comfortably out of the relationship, whereas, at that very second, he was in a time warp in which he felt it completely reasonable to whisperingly ask me I wanted to go with him to meet his family for Thanksgiving.

Instead of answering the holiday question directly, or bringing up the fact that we had already broken up in my mind, I decided to squeeze his dick. As expected, he immediately got hard. I squeezed again as a commercial came on, which prompted Sarah to hustle off to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. I covered us with a light blanket, unzipped him, and pulled out his cock. Sarah settled back down in front of us. I leaned under the blanket and quietly slid him into my mouth.

My intended blowjob wasn’t meant to get me off (I wasn't going to whack off in front of my roommate), nor was it meant as an act of Christian charity to a soon-to-be-sad late adolescent boy/man. I wanted to suck his dick because I knew I was going to miss its soapy smell and predictability, and I also knew that going down on him that evening--when we'd broken up but he didn't know it--would be a lot simpler than later booty calls, etc.

So, anyway, I was blowing him under the blanket out of nostalgia, and boredom, spurred on by half a glass of wine (I'm a lightweight drinker). He was presumably pleased by this unusually public/private display of affection, though I wouldn't know since I wasn't interested in the boy/man's face or opinions. I also wouldn't categorize the blow job as affectionate or friendly, especially since it quickly got hot under the blanket, and it was hard to breath.

I’m not the kind of gal who doesn’t finish what she starts, however, so I knew I’d put myself on the blowjob hook. I got quickly resentful that if I wanted to cum attached to another human, I would have to repeat all of this in an hour, and I'd really have preferred to finish the book I’d been reading. Alternatively, I figured I could break up with him before we went to bed, so that I could masturbate solo and then read my novel, but then I'd be breaking up with him while still tasting his cum in my mouth, which sounded more scuzzy than sexy. Just when it occurred to me that I could drag him back to my bedroom, and we could meet all of my personal metrics before the next commercial break, I felt the gush of sticky cum spew in my mouth and heard the faintest of of whimpers. I ordinarily add a certain amount of noise while giving a blow job (part of the deluxe multidimensional experience that adds to my overall popularity), but rev it up when the guy cums, which could be mistaken for enthusiasm about having gross viscous fluid fill my mouth. As if.

Anyway, on this occasion, I took great pride in having been silent as a spy with Sarah in the room. I was also proud of my man/boy. End of the season, a meaningless game, and yet my favorite utility infielder came through in record time. Plus, its owner showed the tact to avoid the usual religious imagery that tends to bubble up like orgasm-induced Tourette's (Oh, God! Oh Jesus!).

I pulled my sweaty and oxygen-deprived head out from under the blanket. I expected to see Sarah watching the movie. Instead, she was looking right at me. In retrospect, it shouldn't be all that surprising that Sarah would notice my blanketed head bobbing away at a guy’s midsection a few feet from her. She's got a bad case of attention deficit disorder, but while ADHD makes it tough for her to focus on math, she's apparently attentive to nearby blow jobs.