Sandy Gets Blown

I can type the scream of a woman having an orgasm: "AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE". I can type the grunt of a man ejaculating: "NNGGHH, NNGGHH". But I don't know how to type the sound of a mouth swallowing a fresh load of cum and, alas, that's the sound that I wanted to use to start this story.

I was about pushing ten the first time that I sucked Frank's cock. He'd had a couple of drinks but he was sober enough to recognize that at my tender age, he should be gentle. He told me to swallow the creamy goo that his cock spat into my mouth, and I did so. Though I really didn't comprehend the whole thing, it made me feel like a grown-up. After a few nights, I began to really savor the taste of his cum. It got so that most nights I cleaned my teeth with his sperm for toothpaste and my tongue for the toothbrush.

Frank popped my ass cherry when I was around eleven or twelve. He was drunk that time, and he was climbing the walls because Mom had a weekend gig. That time he wasn't so gentle, and if I typed out the scream when he shoved his cock up there, it would fill the entire computer screen. Yes, it hurt like a son of a bitch. After that, though, he began to use lubrication on my poop chute and to take his time. I got used to it and began to like it. With a little self-help, I would cum when he did, though the bastard never did try to get me off while he was doing me. I began to enjoy the feeling of his cum oozing out of me when he pulled out.

When I was about fourteen, he started to pimp me out. I loved every minute of it, but understood and obeyed Frank's — and Mom's - instructions not to talk to any of the kids in school about it. The johns taught me a lot of tricks that Frank had never tried, and life was just a bowl of orgasms. He handled all the money, and that was just fine with me.

Now I'm twenty-five, and if I must say so myself, one of the best looking whores in the entire city. I'm also one of the most expensive and the phone keeps ringing off the hook; the money keeps rolling in. Shit, I charge damn near as much as one of the ex-Governor's whores, and I don't even have her tits.

What makes me different from most of the other prostitutes in the area is that I service a rather limited clientele, that small percentage of men who like to have their sex with whores who piss while standing up.

Mom and her husband lived, how shall we say it, on the fringes of polite society. Maybe White Trash would be a better description. When I was still a young child, the man that I was supposed to call 'Daddy' became an invited long term guest of the State of Nevada for fucking a little girl who was neither ready nor willing to feel cock inside her pussy. Mom rolled with the punch and was living with Frank before 'Daddy' even pleaded guilty. We lived on Welfare checks and whatever cash Frank brought in from whatever scam he happened to be working on. Plus, what I didn't learn until much later, Mom made some decent money peddling her ass by the hour. Less, actually, because most guys can't hold out for a full hour.

The only thing I inherited from my father, whichever one he was, was my good looks. That's not bullshit; I was one good looking child and I've grown into a very handsome adult. If I wasn't charging men for it, I could be fucking a different woman every night without having to buy her a drink. As it is, I do fuck a number of women, but not during working hours. You might call me a pretty boy, but I'm not in the least effeminate. Except when I'm on my hands and knees in front of some guy who's paid a lot for the pleasure of my two useful openings.

My official name in Stanley, but that name only appeared once on an arrest report, from shoplifting when I was twelve. Fortunately, that report went into a shredder after I noticed the way the arresting officer was looking at me. So I told him that I had to go to the bathroom, knowing that as a good police officer, he would not let me out of his sight. When I suggested behind the locked bathroom door that he might have something inside him that he needed to get out through the slit in his cock — what I actually said was that I loved the taste of cum — it took him barely a minute to deliver. That was the first time that I actually prostituted myself, though since no money changed hands, I simply considered it a quid pro quo for not being arrested.

What everyone calls me though is Sandy. That's both because of my true blonde hair and because, as a little kid, I couldn't pronounce Stanley too well.

My first experience with sex was when I was too young to really understand it. At eight or nine, I knew that my dick had an alternate use besides peeing. I knew that girls had something called a cunt between their legs that guys could put their dicks into. The specific name of that was called fucking, though at that age I only knew that actors made believe that they were about to fuck whenever the television screen faded to black. I knew that grown up girls had tits, like Mom, and that they tucked them into the bras that they advertised all over TV and the newspapers. Oh, yeah, and also the store windows in the mall. It was enough to give me a woody. (They still do, the ones I see in the mall windows.) Girls my age, on the other hand, had no tits, and I had no interest in them.

Anyway, one day I came home from school and walked into Mom's room. Go figure; who would have thought that Frank would be in there, that they'd both be buck naked. Mom had her legs spread wide open and Frank was straddling her neck, with his dick inside her mouth. The first things I noticed of course were Mom's tits flopping around. Then I noticed Mom's shiny wet cunt.

Holy shit, I thought. Let me explain something to you, dear reader. I had never seen a cunt before. When the guys talked about sticking a dick into one of them, I had always imagined that girls had something hanging down between their legs, a piece of meat, like guys do. All I figured was that the cunts were hollow, like small garden hoses, and that guys stuck their dicks into the hoses to fuck them. Go know; it's embarrassing to even tell that part of my young mind. I had never imagined that a cunt was an opening into the body itself. Even then, I had never figured out why girls had to sit down to take a piss.

Once they heard me, they stopped and Mom pushed Frank off of her. They lied there looking at me. All I could see was the glistening entrance to Mom's cunt and Frank's dick beginning to shrivel up. Suddenly Mom started laughing and then Frank joined in. Seeing them laugh, at me, I began to cry. She stretched out her arms to me and I went to her, still crying.

"What's the matter, Sandy?" she purred.

"You're laughing at me," I whimpered.

"I'm sorry, honey. We didn't mean to laugh at you. What we were laughing at was the surprise on your face when you saw us doing something you've never seen before."

"But ... but ... you were sucking his dick," I stammered. My young mind couldn't comprehend what she was doing. In my experience, 'suck my dick' was the absolute ultimate insult, far surpassing 'fuck you' or 'kiss my ass.' And there was Mom, obviously enjoying what I had unfortunately interrupted.

"Oh, Sandy, Frank loves it when I do that to him. All men love it," she explained.

"But ... but..." I couldn't phrase the idea of what I thought, that it was an insult.

"Show him, Emma," Frank piped up.

Mom looked at me. "Would you like me to do that for you, Sandy? Would you like Mommy to show you how it feels?"

When I didn't answer, she told me to take off my jeans and under shorts. I did it slowly, embarrassed; I hadn't been naked in front of Mom for years, and never in front of Frank. Also, my little dick, four or five inches, was filling up with blood, and I knew it must have something to do with the entire scene.

"Lie down next to me, Sandy," she directed. Frank slid over and I lied down between them, my shirt and socks being the only clothing on the bed. I looked at my dick standing straight up. Frank took it into his hand and held it for Mom until she slid down the bed. Her long blonde hair covered my entire groin as she bent over me. I felt her put her hand on top of Frank's as she sent a puff of warm air onto the crown of my dick.

I looked at Frank and saw his dick begin to get hard again as his hand stroked mine. I figured that this was the jerking off that some of the older guys spoke about but I was confused, since I had thought that jerking off was something a guy did to himself. But no, here was Frank doing it to me, and Mom was helping him. He had a funny, faraway look in his eyes but I couldn't tell what it meant.

Then Mom's tongue began to lick all over my dick, at least the part that wasn't covered by their two hands. She especially licked my piss slit, which was very sensitive, and the crown around it. I heard her slurp as she fixed her mouth tight on the crown and sucked hard. After a few seconds of that, she lifted Frank's hand off of my dick — and put it on to his own dick!

I couldn't believe my own eyes. Yes, guys I knew did jerk off, but they did it in private. None of them ever said anything about doing it in front of a mother and her son. Yick! Imagine; there I was, about to have my dick sucked by my own mother, and all I could think of was, is nothing sacred? I mean, since when is jerking off a public event?

But Frank continued to massage himself as Mom worked on me. Her tongue licked up and down the shaft. Her hand went between my legs and she began to play with my balls. That tickled and she had to hold me tight as I tried to twist away. When I think of it now, I have to laugh at the idea of trying to get away when someone is playing with my balls.

Mom wrapped her lips around my dick and began to suck me gently. I had been hard before but had never thought anything of it. Watching Frank, and enjoying the feel of Mom's mouth on me, I knew that hardness had something to do with sex. But I was soon to learn more.

"Put your hand on the back of Emma's head, Sandy," Frank said. I complied, without pressure, not understanding the significance.

"Do you like the way Emma's mouth feels on your cock, Sandy?" he asked. I noticed that he said cock instead of dick but I chose not to mention it. Instead, I smiled and nodded in answer to his question.

"Pay attention to your Mom, sandy, because I'm going to ask you to do the same thing for me when she's done with you."

Mom had already mentioned that all men loved to have their dicks sucked, and I already agreed with that. But I wasn't so sure that men or boys liked to be the ones doing the sucking. Only if he wanted me to do it, I didn't know how I could stop him from making me, especially since Mom didn't seem to have any problem with it. She sucked hard and her hand squeezed my balls. All of a sudden...

"I have to pee, Mom," I yelled. She didn't stop, though; she just kept sucking away. Frank started to laugh.

"Don't worry about it, Sandy. Just let it happen. It's not piss anyway, it's much better."

I couldn't help it. I began to pee. Only I knew instantly that it was different. There was no stream pouring out of me like when I stand in front of a toilet. Rather, it was just a couple of short spurts coming out, which ended quickly. And it felt great! I didn't comprehend it, but I loved it. It was like the relief someone feels when they have to hold back a piss because there's no toilet around and then they can finally let go. Back then I didn't understand yet that men would sell their souls for the pleasure I had just felt, but I knew that I wanted the pleasure again.

Mom lifted her head and opened her mouth. I could see a white cream on her tongue and teeth that didn't look anything like piss. She closed her mouth and smiled at me, and I could see the movements in her neck as she swallowed the creamy stuff. My head spun. Mom had just sucked my dick and she had seemed to love it.

EMMA'S DADDY TEACHES HER

Ever since Sandy had been a little baby, and I had seen his teeny little prick, I knew that I would be the first person ever to suck it. After all, not only was he my little baby, he was also my ... what? The problem was that I didn't know who the father was; I still don't know, nor do I care. But I do know that Sandy's father was either my Daddy or my brother Robby, because those two were the only ones fucking me when I became pregnant. Now, if Daddy's cum did the deed, then Sandy is my brother. But if one of Robby's little swimmers caught the egg, then my son is also my nephew.

Robby is four years older than me. He was a real brat when we were little kids, so much so that, once I learned that there was such a thing as birth control, I couldn't figure out why my parents even bothered to have me. I guess maybe they were just low-life creatures who fucked like animals and never gave the idea of birth control a thought.

I guess that every girl remembers her first sexual experience. Come to think of it, the same thing probably applies to every boy. I'm not talking about masturbation now; I've long since forgotten the first time that my fingers did something besides picking things up. No, I'm talking about that first sexual encounter with another person. It doesn't even have to have been with someone of the opposite sex, thought that's the usual thing. And it doesn't even have to have been the loss of virginity, the breaking of the cherry, if you will, or whatever it is that boys call their own first 'getting to home plate.'

For me, it started when I was eight. We lived in a decent sort of house and I had my own room. One night I was sound asleep when I was wakened by screaming from my parents' room. The first words of it that I remembered was Daddy calling Mommy a 'frigid cunt.' My eyes popped open. I knew that cunt was a word that Robby once used and that he got his ass kicked for using it. I also knew that it was a dirty word for what I then called my vagina. Now of course I call it my pussy, though also I call it my cunt and I don't mean it as a dirty word.

Only I didn't then know what the word 'frigid' meant when used as an adjective for cunt. Of course, I didn't even know then what an adjective was, but that's not part of this story. Anyway, the next thing I heard was the slam of their bedroom door and then a moment later, I heard my door open. There was Daddy, standing in the doorway and looking at me. He was silhouetted by the night light in the hallway, and illuminated by the night light in my room.

And he didn't have a stitch of clothing on. Plus, his penis — another polite word long since morphed into the more meaningful word 'cock' — was sticking straight out, like a baseball bat. He came over to my bed and stood alongside my head. I scooted over so that he could sit down. His hand began to caress my hair, the way he did when we watch television. Then he put his free hand on his penis and began to rub it up and down.

My eyes popped out of my head. I kinda knew what he was doing, but my brain began to think just the way Sandy would think, years later, when he first saw Frank spanking his monkey as I cleaned Sandy's pipes for the first time: you're not supposed to masturbate in front of other people. But Daddy's eyes were intense, though his hand wasn't. Something, I thought, must have set him off because of that screaming at Mommy.

He used a third hand — just kidding, he took the one off my head — and pulled down my covers. I was wearing my nightgown decorated with bears. The bottom had pulled up to expose my matching panties and a little of my stomach. But Daddy wasn't looking at them; he was focused on his own hand on his own penis. His hand began to speed up, so fast that I couldn't count the fingers, though I knew of course how many he had.

Suddenly his hand stopped moving. He reached down, took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his penis. Then he put his own hand back on top of mine and resumed the rubbing. I was scared; not because I thought he would hurt me, but it was just a fear of the unknown. I didn't know what we were doing, and I didn't know if we were supposed to be doing it. But I could tell that Daddy thought that it was a good idea. His hand — and mine too — began to go faster and faster. Then he grunted.

Creamy goo began to come out of the hole in his penis and land on my panties and my tummy. When it stopped, Daddy gave a big exhale and smiled at me. He reached out, scooped some of the goo from my stomach and offered his finger to my mouth. I closed my lips tightly and shook my head; there was no way I was going to taste something that came from the same place as pee. Daddy gave me that 'Father Knows Best' smile. He reached down, scooped the last of the goo that had pooled at the tip of his penis, and put it in his own mouth. Then he licked his chops like a kitty cat.

I got the idea and opened my mouth, albeit nervously. Instead of putting his finger into my mouth, Daddy told me to lick it. It was creamy, just a teeny bit salty, but for the most part tasteless. Someday I would learn that the pleasure is more sexual and mental than it is gustatory. But then I came back to reality.

"Daddy, my panties are all wet from your stuff."

He nodded, and silently pulled my panties down and off of me, dropping them to the floor. He stared at the space between my legs. Then he spread them apart and kissed me down there, and gave me a little lick. After that, he got up and kissed me softly on my mouth. He walked out of my room without a word. I heard the door to the master bedroom click closed. Then I heard Mommy yelling, followed by the sound of a slap. And silence.

I went back to sleep. Without panties.

Mommy came into my room in the morning to wake me up. When she saw my panties on the floor, she picked them up. I saw her run her fingers over what I later realized was a dried spot from where Daddy's stuff had landed. She squinted at me.

"Why are you panties on the floor, Emma? And what happened to them?"

Later in life, I was to learn the advantages of telling a lie with a straight face to someone in a position of authority. Back then though, I had no reason to think that there was anything special about what had happened the previous night. So I simply told the truth, with all the details. I could see Mommy's face change, from curiosity through concern, then anger and finally sadness. She was close to tears but held them back. Still, I knew that something profound had happened.

Two nights later, I was asleep when I heard the latch on my door click open. Daddy was standing there, wearing a bathrobe that time. The robe hung open, exposing again his hard penis. He sat on my bed. Remembering the day before, and my talk with Mommy about my panties, I had to ask.

"Does Mommy know that you're here, Daddy?"

He sighed. "She told me to come in here."

I had no idea of the significance of that statement. To my young brain, all it meant was that Mommy was cool with the idea of what we had done. I sat up and kicked off my covers. Then I pulled my nightie off over my head and scooted my panties down, kicking them off my ankles. Instructions were not necessary; I put my hand on his warm, swollen penis and began to stroke it.

Daddy lay down and allowed me to go about my business. After a short time, he put a hand gently on my wrist to stop me.

"Put your mouth on me, Emma," he said softly.

That was the word he used, 'me', but I knew without asking that he meant 'it'. I also knew — hey, what do you think girls talk about in school — that he meant for me to put 'it' in my mouth and to suck it. Which was fine by me, allowing me to 'catch up' to some of the older girls who claimed that they did it for their boyfriends all the time.

Although I didn't know it at the time, nor even think about it, in retrospect I believe that the moment I wrapped my lips around Daddy's penis was the moment that sealed my future, condemning me — no, that's the wrong word — thrusting me toward a life of suck and fuck for all sorts of men, the more generous the better.

I rolled over between Daddy's legs and opened my mouth. Bending my head down, I simply covered his penis as much as I could. Being small myself, my mouth only took in a couple of inches. A large part of his penis stayed outside but that meant nothing to me; I hadn't yet learned the nuances of deep-throating. As far as I was concerned, what was left outside my mouth was simply a handle for me to hang on to his penis, like a stick for a lollypop.

As I write this now, all these years later, with all the cock — the preferred word of most johns — that I've serviced, it's surprising how gentle Daddy was that night. His hands first began to caress my head as I silently sucked away at that hard piece of meat. I knew that this adventure would end when Daddy's penis spit out its stuff but I wasn't sure how I was supposed to make it happen. Would my still mouth cause the same reaction as my moving hand had done two nights earlier? What the heck, all I could think about was telling those snooty bitches in school that I too had done the deed for my boyfriend.

Because for sure I would never tell them or anyone else that it had been my Daddy's penis that I had swallowed. I didn't know why, but I instinctively knew that we would both be in a lot of trouble — deep shit, if you will — if anyone knew. Oh sure, Daddy had said that Mommy had sent him to my bed, so I guessed that it was alright with her, but I didn't even plan to tell my brother Robby. (Please don't laugh at me. I soon learned about the pain that Mommy was going through, knowing that Daddy was getting his sex in my bed, but back then I didn't know any better.)

After a while, Daddy moved his hands to the sides of my face, to my chin actually, and gently began to lift my head. That didn't make any sense, since why would he want me to stop when I was in the middle of sucking his penis, but I didn't fight it. Only he didn't move me all the way off of him, but just to the point where all that was left in my mouth was his crown. Then he pulled my head back down onto him. Up, then down, again and again. Slowly I began to understand.

Daddy was masturbating, but instead of using his hand, or my hand, as he had done the first time, he was using my head and mouth to do the job. And for some crazy reason, the realization of that made me feel like I was all grown up. Until finally I heard a frantic whisper.

"Here I cum, Emma."

Which of course didn't make any sense to me, because Daddy had already come into my room sometime earlier. And then I felt the throbbing of his penis, felt the spurting of his gooey stuff into my mouth. He stopped, and held my head tightly, my mouth still wrapped around him.

"Swallow my cum, Emma." I heard the unspoken 'please' as it dawned on me that cum was the word he used for that stuff I had tasted the other night.

SANDY LIKES THE CONSISTENCY

... Mom lifted her head and opened her mouth. I could see a white cream on her tongue and teeth that didn't look anything like piss. She closed her mouth and smiled at me, and I could see the movements in her neck as she swallowed the creamy stuff. My head spun. Mom had just sucked my dick and she had seemed to love it.

Frank stopped playing with his dick, not that he had been too energetic about it in the first place.

"How'd you like that, Sandy?" he asked with a grin.

I grinned back, not knowing what to say.

"Did it make you feel like a man?"

I hadn't thought of it that way. Oh sure, it felt fantastic, and if that was what he had meant, I nodded with my own smile.

"Are you ready to do that for me, Sandy?" Looking back years later, I can no longer remember what my thoughts might have been. Perhaps trepidation, for despite Mom's apparent pleasure at the taste of my cum, I was not looking forward to doing that myself. Maybe it was shame, for again despite Mom's actions — I guessed that girls were different — I didn't want to label myself with the word that all my friends used as an insult, cocksucker. And for all I know, it may have been pride; pride at being invited to do sexual things that grownups did.

What I do remember was looking at Mom for guidance. After all, she was my protector, and she wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. Not only was she my mother but she was close enough in age to me to be my big sister also — and as she mentioned a few pages ago, she very well may have been. That part she hadn't told me about back then, just that she had gotten 'knocked up' at a young age.

Anyway, what I saw on Mom's face was the smile of a Madonna, beautiful motherly pride. Pride, so it seemed, that her young son was about to become an adult — forget her just having sucked his dick — and that he (I) was about to give up his mouth cherry to her own lover. And she confirmed that with the slightest nod of her head.

Frank lay back and spread his legs for me, his dick hard and red with blood, showing a little drop of something oozing out from where he pissed. I bent down toward it as I knew I should, but I stopped short. There was a smell of Frank's perspiration, and of something else. It was a deeper scent, and I've come to recognize it whenever I'm about to take someone's cock into my mouth.

It's an aroma that I've grown fond of, for it signals the excitement in a man's groin. It's the excitement that he can get from a woman anytime, but knowing that it comes forth because I'm about to service him gives me a feeling of pride, of being someone special, someone who pleases another man in a way that many of them fantasize, even hope for, but that few ever get the nerve to try. For I know now, having learned it very quickly, that a guy who gets himself off by his own hand can feel quite satisfied, but its so much better when the tight orifice is something other than cupped fingers.

And while the females of the species provide three very suitable openings — four if you count a hand job — nevertheless the perceived wickedness of man on man is a great turn-on. I make fabulous money allowing myself to be fucked by men, and I take great pleasure in fucking Mom and other women. But I too get some of my greatest thrills when I can get another guy to bend over and let me shoot my cum up his asshole.

Back then, of course, I didn't know any of this, just that I had enjoyed having my dick spurt inside Mom's mouth and sensing that she had enjoyed it also. And there I was about to do the same for Frank.

Despite his instructions, I hadn't really paid much attention to how Mom blew me. It had been more a feeling of exquisite pleasure combined with curiosity as to how it would end, a curiosity sated in a most wonderful manner. So all I did was to suck Frank's dick — cock, in his terminology — like it was a lollypop. It was only weeks later that I finally got the nuances down pat, the licking of that little drop, the kissing of the angry red crown, the long dainty tongue maneuvers along the shaft, the worshipful attention to his crinkled sac and the two little guys inside it.

The only sounds were Mom's whispered words of encouragement — "That's it, Sandy" — and Frank's breathing, normal at first and then rapid, shallow. Then of course that final grunt, though it sounded more like a roar, as I felt that first spurt of cream and at the same time felt a hand holding my head tightly against Frank's body, my nose entwined in his pubic hair.

"Swallow, Sandy." I heard the two voices simultaneously and felt Frank's body start to shake with laughter at the realization. But he didn't bounce enough to shake my mouth loose, nor to stop the throbs that were quickly filling my mouth.

The taste of his cum on my tongue was a non-event. What I enjoyed more was the creamy feeling of the stuff that he had delivered, the consistency of warm melted ice cream. I fell in love with it in an instant. That must have been the moment that triggered me into a life of putting out for men, knowing that their money would be supplemented by that delightful feeling of cum oozing around in my mouth. I didn't know then that I would have to pay a price, that a large percentage of the men I serviced would want to fuck me in the ass, but it was a price that I was willing to pay for a mouthful of fresh semen.

EMMA LOSES HER CHERRY

..."Swallow my cum, Emma." I heard the unspoken 'please' as it dawned on me that cum was the word he used for that stuff I had tasted the other night.

Someone who has never tasted cum would usually be horrified at the concept. Imagine taking into your mouth a liquid, creamy to be sure, that spurts out of the same hole that delivers piss into a toilet bowl. Yick! But for most people, once they've survived the experience, it becomes a normal part of sexual activity. And after realizing that it won't kill you, it's not even such a big leap to clean off a cock with your mouth after its been inside your ass.