Dicksucker
(or: The Girl in 4B)
by Johnny Murdoc

http://www.johnnymurdoc.com
johnnymurdoc@gmail.com

There’s a girl up in 4B who says she likes puppies, but she sucks strange men’s dicks on the weekend. A different guy every weekend. One time she came over and we sat on my couch together. She leaned over and kissed me and then laughed at me.

“I just sucked a guy’s dick,” she tells me. Her name is Suzette.

The same thing happened to me in ninth grade: I was thirsty and asked the girl behind me if I could have a drink of her soda. She said “sure” and after I took a swallow from her can, she laughed and said “I suck dick, you know,” and everyone laughed. I thought of her friend Carl, who I had seen walking around the locker room with his decidedly adult sized penis flopping about. I didn’t tell her, or anyone, that I didn’t care if she sucked dick. I didn't tell her that I was kind of jealous of her. I didn't tell her, or anyone else, that I was kind of hoping she had sucked one during lunch, right before she bought her soda.

I don’t tell that to this girl, either.

The girl from 4B says that she wants a puppy but can’t have one, and she waits for me to ask her why. I do and she tells me about the first puppy she had in her apartment. She brought a strange guy home and was giving him head when her puppy started humping his leg. The guy got so freaked out that he kicked the dog hard enough to crush its rib cage, and then ran out of the apartment with his pants around his knees and his dick still flopping around. Now she’s afraid to get a dog because she still brings men home. She really wants a puppy, so I ask her why doesn’t she give up dick and get one. She explains to me that sexual fetishes develop when you’re young, like infant-young, and her parents didn’t take her pacifier away soon enough when she grew older, so now she has to suck dick on the weekends or she’ll go crazy.

“Dick”. That’s her word for it, and she says it so often that I’m uncomfortable.

Dick. Dick. Dick.

After she goes home, I masturbate. I sit on the couch, lean back, and close my eyes. I think about her, in her apartment, kneeling before a guy. I think about her putting her hands on his crotch, and looking up at him with a smile. I think that she's always happy, no matter what the guy looks like. No matter what his penis looks like. I have seen some of her men. It's them that I imagine, standing in front of her, getting hard. I think about them, and I pull my own penis free from my shorts. I think about how easy it is for her. She knows what she wants, and she takes it. She doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks about her. I masturbate, thinking about her pulling a guy's jeans down, wriggling them over his stiffening erection. I masturbate, thinking about her pushing her face into his white cotton briefs, and feeling his cock roll against her face. I masturbate, thinking about her taking his dick in her mouth, and I ejaculate.

I don't like Suzette. She is off-putting. But I envy her. I envy her ability to take what she wants.

Suzette comes over Saturday night. I hear heavy footsteps walking down the hall, past my doorway, and down the stairs, followed by lighter footsteps and knock on my door. When I open it, I find her standing there with a six pack of beer, minus one.

"He didn't drink," she says. "I don't want to drink alone."

So we sit on my couch, and we drink her cheap beer together. She drinks more than I do, but I think that I feel it more. She tells me about the guy. "This one," she says, "I met him in a bar. Men in bars, they're always looking to get their dick sucked." I don't know where these bars are she talks about. These bars where straight men stand around and wait to get their dicks sucked.

We drink more, and I wonder if she swallows their cum. I think that I can smell it on her breath, she's sitting so close. But I think, instead, I can only smell beer. I think about kissing her again, to see if I can taste the man who just left.

She never asks me if she can suck my dick.

She tells me a story: The first dick she ever suck belonged to this guy she had a major crush on. She was eighteen, and desperately bored at home, so she walked to the mall where he worked. For an hour, she browsed the tiny store, trying to seem interested in the merchandise, while really she was trying to watch him. Suddenly, he was behind her, telling her that the manager was getting suspicious of her, like she's a shoplifter, and if she really wanted to hang with him, she should just let him know. Feeling bold, she told him what she really wanted to do, and fifteen minutes later, during his break, she was on her knees in the Men's restroom, stroking and sucking his cock until he ejaculated in her mouth.

I get drunk with her, while she tells this story, and when she's done, I tell her that I want to suck dick, too. She laughs, and my cheeks redden.

Another week rolls around, and I'm sitting in my apartment wondering what to do. I hear footsteps, both heavy and light, and then I hear a knock on my door. This isn't her routine, I think. I open the door, and there stands Suzette. And a guy. He's ugly, but cute. His head is tilted to one side, nonchalant. He's wearing grey sweatpants, and a jacket for our local baseball team. I'm embarrassed, because I don't know if they're major league or not. I wonder if he's a player, or a fan.

"You'll never believe this," Suzette says, pushing her way into my apartment. She steps right past me, and then looks behind her. She gestures to this man, this guy in my doorway, and he follows her in, looking at his feet. I turn to find her digging into my refrigerator.

"Do you have any beer?" she asks. She finds some before I can respond, and she pops the cap off of it by bracing it against my countertop. She takes a swig, and offers one to the guy. He's standing in the middle of my living room, looking around. She hands him an open bottle, and then puts a hand on my shoulder.

"This is Doug," she says, gesturing at the guy in front of me. He's taken a distracted interest in my ceiling fan. "Doug, say 'Hi'."

"Oh. Hey," Doug says, turning to look at the two of us.

"I met Doug, tonight," Suzette says. "I bring him back here, well, not here, but to my apartment, and we're sitting around drinking, and laughing, and I say to him, I say, 'There's this guy downstairs, the guy in 3A, and he wants to suck dick'. I say, 'I bet he'd like to suck your dick,' and Doug laughs, and you know what Doug says?" She pauses and looks at me, expecting an answer. I shake my head.

"Ha ha," she laughs. "Doug says 'Yeah?' He says 'I'd let him suck my dick.' So here we are."

I had no clue what she was talking about, because honestly, there was no way that she was telling me that she told this guy, this ugly cute guy standing in my living room, that I wanted to suck dick, and that I might suck his. But in fact she was, and she had.

Suzette's hand slid off my shoulder as she stumbled away from me and toward Doug. She propped herself on his shoulder, and looked at me.

"Isn't he cute?" she asks. Doug smiles at me with thick lips. He shrugs off his jacket, and Suzette in the process.

"So where do you want to do it?" he asks.

"I don't," I say, and I shoot Suzette a look. A look that I hope says 'What the fuck are you doing?' A look that says 'Who do you think you are?'.

I look at Doug, and he seems confused. Suzette looks disappointed, like I had personally let her down after she had gone out of her way to do me a huge favor.

"I've got a big dick," Doug said. I believe him, because I can see it. In the few moments since he had wandered into my living room, through my own surprise and confusion, I had not failed to notice the long, thick tube that appeared to flop around beneath the crotch of his sweatpants. Each time he took a step it swayed from side to side like a pendulum between his thighs. He was, in that moment, every guy I had ever snuck a look at, cherishing sweatpants and basketball shorts and any other piece of clothing that revealed even a hint at what a guy was packing between his legs. And this one, this guy, was actually offering me the piece between his legs.

At twenty-six years old, I live by myself. I have very few friends. Almost all of my sexual fulfillment comes from the vicarious adventures of my off-putting upstairs neighbor. Her stories, and hours spent surfing internet porn. At times, Suzette thrilled and disgusted me, but I was, if I'm to be honest, always jealous of her. And here this ugly-cute guy named Doug was standing before me with a cock big enough to be ever present through his sweatpants, offering me exactly what I want.

"Okay," I say.

"What?" Doug asks.

"Yes!" Suzette says. She looks from me to him, and her face says that one of us has just won the lottery, but she's not sure who.

"Awesome," Doug says. He takes a swig of his beer.

I can't believe what I'm doing.

I always thought that, the first time I sucked a guy's dick, I would start by kissing him, and then progress naturally from there. Doug's thick lips look kissable, but something tells me he's not the kissing type, especially when it comes to other men. Because we're not kissing, though, I don't know where to start. I don't know if I should pull his pants down here, or if I should ask if he wants to sit on the couch, or lay in bed. I don't know if I should ask Suzette to leave, or if Doug will freak out if I try to get us alone.

Suzette makes my move for me. She hooks her thumbs into Doug's waistband and pulls his sweatpants and anything else he might have underneath them down quickly. His exposed cock, as long as I knew it would be, flops first out and then to the left, where, after wobbling a bit, it stops. His pubic hair is unshaven, untrimmed, wild. He pulls one leg up to step out of his pants, but gets caught up on his shoe. He stumbles a bit, but manages to kick off his shoes. As he lifts his leg again to pull free of his pants, I watch his testicles bounce behind his penis. They hang low, and look big.

Doug moves toward my couch, and strips off his jacket. He tosses it on the floor before he flops down and spreads his legs a little. He takes a swig of beer. He's still wearing his socks, and a grey t-shirt. His penis hangs down over his nuts, the head reaching down and resting on the cushion.

I cough, and step forward on one shaky leg. Suzette gives a quick, staccato clap, barely able to contain her excitement. She sits down on the couch's arm, hoping to get a good view.

I kneel down in front of Doug, my cheeks red and my breathing quick and shallow. I reach forward, unsure of where to put my hands at first. I place one one each of his thighs, spreading my fingers over the dusting of hair on his flesh. Somehow, touching him here feels more intimate than if I'd gone immediately for his penis.

From where I'm at, I can smell him, and the olfactory adds to the visual for a powerful effect. It's by smelling him that I recognize that I am here, and I'm not fantasizing about this. He smells sweaty, like he could use a shower.

"So, you've never done this before," he says.

"No," I say.

"It's all right. You can do whatever you want."

I lean forward until my lips touch his penis. I inhale. I feel his warmth against my face. I don't know where to start. Fourteen years of imagining what I'd do in this moment, and I really don't know where to go first.

Doug reaches down and lifts his penis up to expose his balls. A halo of pubic hair circles around the base of his cock.

"Put it in your mouth," he says. His cock is long enough and soft enough that, even with his hand holding it upward, the head of it leans in my direction. I take him into my mouth. His penis is soft and warm. It feels like my own, but entirely different. I run my tongue along the base of it, and as I pull my tongue back, more of his cock slides into my mouth. He exhales.

Soft, I can fit nearly his entire penis into my mouth. As he stiffens, I find it harder. I can feel his cock thickening in my mouth, and I push his hand out of the way so I can wrap my own around it. My free hand slides up his thigh onto his stomach. His pubic hair continues up and blends with a light coat of hair on his stomach and chest. His stomach has a slight roll to it, and a softness.

I pull his cock out of my mouth, and fall back to look at it, to see it in its entirety. I let go of it, and it falls back to lean on his t-shirt, next to where my arm slides up beneath the grey cotton. His nutsack has tightened a little bit, but still rests on the couch cushion between his legs. His cock is an impressive sight.

Doug smiles down at me, obviously proud of himself and his member.

I lean back in and take a long lick, from the underside of his balls to the tip of his penis. I cock my head, and his dick slides back into my mouth. I wrap a hand firmly around it, and stroke him. Only the first half or so of his penis will fit in my mouth, and I bob up and down on it while stroking him. I try to remember everything I've ever read about giving blowjobs, like keeping my teeth off of his cock and trying to match the motion of my head with that of my hand. I slobber more than I would have thought, and soon his penis is covered in a transparent sheen of spit.

I look up at Doug, and his head is laying back, his eyes closed. I wonder what he's thinking about. Some celebrity? An ex-girlfriend? Suzette? Whatever he's thinking about, it's working, because his cock is harder than I thought it could possibly get.

Suddenly, I feel something rub against my own crotch. Doug has maneuvered one of his legs in between mine, and uses the top of his socked foot to rub my cock through my pants. The pressure feels good, and he's making a subtle up and down motion. I thrust against him.

Quickly, I look over at Suzette. She doesn't seem to have noticed Doug's move. She's leaning in like she's watching an intense game of roulette, her eyes completely fixated on the point where Doug's cock disappears into my mouth. I turn my eyes back to the job ahead, at Doug's wild mass of pubic hair, getting closer and farther away and closer again like a bad carnival ride.

My jaw starts to ache quickly. I pull Doug's dick out of my mouth and stroke it's entire length with my hand, using my saliva as a lubricant. I bring my hand up over the head of his penis, and then back down to nest in his pubic hair. It feels entirely different than stroking my own cock, even though all the pieces are the same (give or take a few inches).

Between my legs, Doug's foot has worked my cock nearly to orgasm. I'm not sure how much more of his actions I can take.

Doug's still dreaming about whatever it is he's dreaming about, and his lips are moving like he's forming miniature words. Like he's having a conversation with someone who is not in the room. My left hand is still under his shirt, against his stomach, and I slide it further up until my fingertips brushes his nipple. His body jerks a little, and I assume he likes it.

Suddenly, Doug's eyebrows pull together into a squint, his nose wrinkles a little, and his cock pulses in my hand. I'm sure he's about to cum, and I wonder whether or not I should keep jerking him off or put his cock back into my mouth.

I decide on the latter, wrapping my lips around the head of his penis just as the first shot of warm cum shoots out. I try to time my strokes with the pulses of his cum as the first three strings of it hit the back of my mouth. I can't help but think that it would have been a hell of a show if I hadn't shoved his cock back in my mouth. I can feel each of his shots fire up his cock with my tongue pressed against the underside of his penis.

As he cums, his foot moves faster against my own cock. Soon, the double stimulation of his ejaculate in my mouth and his foot between my legs cause me to reach orgasm as well. My cock throbs and I fill my briefs up with cum.

I keep the head of Doug's penis in my mouth for as long as I can. My mouth feels full, both of Doug's cock and his cum. My free hand is still up his shirt, and he's breathing heavily. I swallow, and let his penis slide out of my mouth. It has already started to soften, and it lands firmly on his testicles. I watch as a tiny drip of his white cum drips onto my couch cushion. Doug reaches down, gives his penis a couple of strokes, and lets it drop again.

Now, with both of us spent, I'm unsure what to do.

Suzette starts clapping. "That was awesome," she says.

I stand up, using Doug's knee to steady myself. I can feel my cock sticking to the cotton of my briefs.

"That was awesome, dude," Doug says as he stands up. "You should do that more often."

"Um, thanks," sounds awkward and stupid, but I say it anyway.

Doug steps around me, and leans over to pick up his sweatpants and underwear. I glance briefly at his hairy ass crack, and think about all of the other things I would like to do with him.

"You should come by some time," I say, feeling bold after what I had just done. "You know, if you're ever over to see Suzette again."

"That would be great," Suzette says.

Doug cracks a smile as he pulls on his pants and underwear at one time. "Yeah, maybe," he says, as I watch his cock disappear. I'm sad to see it go. As he slips on his shoes, Suzette opens my front door. She holds it open for him, and looks back at me.

"You maybe want to hang out later?" she asks me.

I can hardly tell her no, so I say "Yeah, sure thing."

She turns and walks away, following Doug.

On my couch cushion, there is a tiny stripe of sweat where Doug had been sitting.

I start to think about who else Suzette could bring me.

Or who I could go get myself.

THE END


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