After that weekend, it was as if I were the new girl on campus. It didn’t matter that I had out-of-control hair or no boobs. The boys were checking me out. Or rather, they seemed hypnotized by my mouth. The word had spread that I could suck dick like nobody’s business. It was both exhilarating and scary. Going down on a banana was easy; doing it to an actual penis, I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. I mean, what would happen if I wasn’t good or I did it wrong or, worse yet, I bit down? I was basking in the glory of being worshipped, but all it would take was one bad review and I’d be a nobody again. Still, I liked having this fame even if it wasn’t warranted.
I spent the rest of the week practicing on bananas. My mom was getting suspicious since I’d never eaten so many. Practice makes perfect—that was my mantra. The truth was after thirty minutes deep throating, I got hungry and ate my practice partner. I guessed I shouldn’t do that to an actual boy.
By Friday, I was asked out. Oh my God, frickin’ Mike Brown invited me to go to the movies, and not just any, but a drive-in. They were almost extinct except for one about an hour away. Mike was a big jock in high school. A major player both on and off the field. And he was so damn cute. Brandi had me come over to her house after school to fix me up and give me a pep talk. She wanted me to look my best. My hair was blow-dried and straightened with a brush. Plus, she layered my face with tons of makeup.
I felt somewhat funny. I’d never even kissed a boy. I knew Mike wasn’t taking me out because I was pretty or popular. He heard the rumors. I gave blowjobs. This would be my first time, and it would make or break my reputation. Did I really want a “slut girl” rep? You bet. It was better than being nobody; at least I would be somebody. But what if he expected more than a BJ? I didn’t want to have sex. It didn’t sound enjoyable—regardless of how Brandi dressed it up.
Damn, I did look different. Not drop-dead gorgeous like other girls, but I looked cute. Mike would be getting more than one surprise tonight. Maybe.
Somewhere between the popcorn and the peanuts, his zipper magically came down. I was ready to jump out of my skin. Literally. Wow. My. First. Penis. I peeked at it out of the corner of my eye. It looked stiff and kind of pissed off. Squiggly blue veins traveled along the sides and the top looked like a mushroom. I loathed mushrooms. Mike managed to push his jeans down to his knees. Now I was visually captivated. It was bigger than I thought and nestled in dark curly hair. There appeared to be two round balls sitting squarely at the base. It may sound odd, but it reminded me of an Easter basket. He expected me to put that in my mouth? We’d hardly even spoken.
“Can you kiss me?” I asked shyly. To be honest, a banana seemed more appetizing right now than Mike Brown’s penis. And if I were going to do this, I wanted something out of it.
He looked at me, perplexed. I swear, it was as if I’d grown two heads. Jesus, I’d only asked for a kiss.
“Sure. I guess. If you want me to,” he answered somewhat reluctantly.
I suppose I was the girl who kissed your penis, but not your lips. I sighed.
Mike reached over and pressed his mouth to mine. His lips felt soft, like my down pillows, and his breath smelled like popcorn. I felt his tongue wiggle its way through my teeth and touch mine. Holy crap. My body felt hyperaware and warm. My lower half fizzled with a weird sensation. I could see why kissing led to actual sex. It was amazing.
Mike stopped and then pulled away. His lips looked red, and mine felt puffy. He obviously had a lot of practice because that kiss was life altering. He scooted over closer to me and brushed his hand across my cheek. I could feel it then move upward and onto my neck. He didn’t use force, but gently bent my head toward his open pants. This was it. It was show time. Make it or break it. This would define me in high school.
I snuck a peek as my mouth got closer. I smelled body wash. There was no doubt he’d expected this. He had prepared. I’m sure no teenage boy washes his junk that well.
I gently grasped it. I could feel Mike’s body go as stiff as his penis. He shuddered. Jesus. I’d only touched it. I guessed my hands were good. As I stroked, I could feel it throb, like a tiny heartbeat.
“Touch my balls.”
I followed his instructions and cupped them in my hand. I internally chuckled. They did remind me of those candied eggs. As I continued to fondle them, I noticed a small drop of liquid at the slit on the mushroom head. Wow. It occurred to me I did that. Maybe moisture was part of this. My underwear felt damp and something stirred deep inside me.
That bead—the one sitting so lazily on the top of his penis—spellbound me. I sensed an urge I couldn’t identify or stop. My tongue darted out and licked it. Mike’s entire behavior changed. He acted possessed. His breathing intensified and his voice was gritty as he growled. I swear. Just like an animal.
His body became tight and his penis began to quiver in my hand. It literally came alive. It felt firmer and the veins more defined. I suddenly sensed power. Everything I was doing was causing him to succumb to me. I would almost be willing to bet Mike would do anything if I took him in my mouth right now. And I did. I groaned as I slid him between my lips. The sound I made vibrated against him, and he pushed in farther. I hoped he hadn’t expected me to swallow his penis. It hit the back of my throat. My fingers flirted with his balls as I closed my eyes and repeated what I’d done to my banana.
Mike didn’t taste bad. I was really doing this. I almost wanted to do the happy dance—if his penis hadn’t been in my mouth.
Shit. No one mentioned when you gave a BJ, the finale included stuff shooting out. Gross. It tasted salty and thick in my throat. Kind of like mucus when you’re sick. Mike was pumping into my mouth nonstop. How much crap was there? I felt like I’d swallowed a gallon. Was it okay to ingest this shit? Apparently.
Brandi hadn’t bothered to tell me about this. I could understand why. I might have had second thoughts if I knew a thick, phlegm-like substance was going to be in my mouth. I tried to pretend it was something else. The only thing I could compare it with was my mom’s lemon meringue pie. I loved lemons—evidently bananas too. But that stuff on the top—meringue—reminded me of nasal discharge. I always put that down the garbage disposal. I hated the texture in my mouth.
Mike finally stopped and pulled away. He was breathing heavy and his cheeks were flushed. I grabbed my soda and took a long drink. I really wanted to spit. Badly. But girls didn’t spit; it wasn’t ladylike. I have a newsflash: neither is sucking a boy’s penis, but it had been kind of cool.
“Wow, you’ve done that before, haven’t you? That really felt good. Can we do it again?” Mike asked, excitement filling his voice.
Again. Really? As much as I enjoyed it, I was kind of over him. “Nah, can you take me home?” I asked, scooting over toward the passenger door and furiously sipping my soda.
“Louisa, I kind of thought we could hang out a while longer. What you did—that was fucking amazing. You seemed to like it. Can’t we do it again please?” He was actually whining.
Putting a boy’s dick in your mouth equals fame and power. Good to know.
Oh my God. Wait a minute.
Mike was a big man on campus. There were slogans in the girl’s bathroom about how good he was. I wondered if my remarkable talent was now going to be etched on the wall in the boy’s bathroom. Best way to advertise. I’d also read about how big Mike’s dick was. They weren’t wrong about his size, but I also didn’t have anything to compare it to—yet.
I found out in the next twenty minutes he’d never done anything. He was as inexperienced as I was, although I kept that little ditty to myself. The only other person to fondle him besides me was himself. In retrospect, that was a good thing. His expectations were low, so sucking him earned me an A-plus. It appeared that grade was going to give me a popular reputation. It might be bad with the girls, but the boys would adore me.