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He clears his throat. “Well, like I said before, the seated position is my favorite. The first thing I’ll say is, I like women who take their time. Whatever it says about us, men love when it feels like the woman is worshipping your body. Like there’s nothing she’d rather be doing in that moment than giving you pleasure.” He smiles, and his eyes land on me. “I’m sure women feel like that too.”
There’s sounds of assent around the room. I’m finding it very hard to look away from him.
“Oh, and being naked is always a plus. I love being able to look at all of a woman while she’s sucking me—helps me imagine what I’ll be doing to her later.” There’s some laughter, but less, everyone too caught up in his words. “As far as taking her time, I prefer the woman not to jump in with her mouth right away. She’ll take me with her hands, massaging me, making sure I’m as hard as possible before her mouth ever touches me. Then, she starts slow. Tongue only on my shaft, like a lollipop. Long slow strokes along the bottom, and quick little flicks along the sides and underneath the head.”
In spite of my nervousness, my body is responding to his words. I feel heat and anticipation flowing downwards towards my core, and in my mind’s eye I can see what he’s describing.
“I love it when a woman takes the time to explore my balls. Taking them into her mouth, one and then the other. It feels amazing. Finally, she’ll put her mouth on me, taking just the tip and sucking hard on it. I like to be teased with tongue while being sucked. The combination of sensations is hard to explain.”
My imagination is too far gone to stop. I’m on my knees in front of him, naked, taking him into my mouth just as he’s describing. His cock is straight and perfect and I want nothing more than to make him feel incredible, to prove that I’m good at this. That I’m not a sexual failure. He’ll close his eyes and groan as I take him deeper.
“After that first contact, I like a combination of things. I want a good rhythm that makes me feel like I’m fucking your mouth. I want you to keep using your tongue to tease me. And of course, I want you to take me as far as you can down your throat. There’s nothing hotter than watching your cock disappear into the mouth of a beautiful woman.” His eyes fall on me again, and I blush. He has to know I’m picturing all of this. He must know somehow that I want that. I want to take him back to my place and put my mouth on him, watch him go limp with pleasure. I want to drink him down.
“After that, it’s up to you. I’m in your hands, and I want you to make it last as long as possible before I come. And I want you to swallow,” he says. “Swallowing is absolute acceptance. It’s total commitment to the pleasure you just gave. I think that’s why most guys prefer it. I also love it when a woman will look up at me while she’s sucking. That eye contact is hot.”
I imagine that eye contact. His blue eyes on mine as his cock is in my mouth, while I slowly give him the pleasure that he wants. I’m wet, and I can’t believe that I’m so turned on right now. I shift in my seat, embarrassed by how much impact his words are having. I hope it’s not as obvious as it feels. The only thing more mortifying than crashing into a dick display would be having an orgasm in the middle of this class.
“Any questions?” he asks with a laugh, then clarifies. “They don’t have to be about what I just described.”
“I have one.” A girl behind me asks. She hasn’t spoken until now. “You mentioned using your hands to…” She stumbles. “…to get a guy hard. Well, it sounds stupid, but I’m always kind of afraid to do that because I think I’m going to hurt him. Could you explain how to do it right?”
“Sure.” Philip smiles. “I’ll tell you one thing, your mouth can help you there. It’s easier when everything is wetter.” He looks behind him at the table full of toys. “But it’s easy enough to show you. Maybe I’ll have someone come help me demonstrate.”
Half the hands in the room shoot into the air. I keep my hand down, the image of him and me too fresh in my mind. My body is still so turned on I’m not sure I could walk straight anyway. Philip smiles at all the volunteers. Then he looks right at me. “How about you?”
Shit.
3
Philip
The little blonde in the second row goes scarlet when I call on her.
So far, this has been interesting.
I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to teach someone how to give a good blowjob, never having given one. I’m sure there’s good tips that Christa would give that I’m missing completely. I can only hope that she’ll be well enough for part two of the class. Or maybe she can give me some notes.
Christa did warn me that everyone in the class would try to hit on me. I internally roll my eyes as I remember her calling me ‘eye-candy.’ But she wasn’t wrong. I recognize the hungry look on some of these women’s faces. And there’s a time when I would have responded to that—taken advantage of the sheer lust of so many women, and taken one of them home. Maybe more than one. But I wasn’t lying when I told them I enjoyed the intimacy of that position. I’m tired of mindless fucking and waking up next to someone who doesn’t remember my name.
That’s what I didn’t tell them about my favorite kind of blowjob—that it’s made ten times better if it’s someone you care about wrapped around your cock. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had that, and it’s what I want. So I do my best to avoid women who are looking at me the way the brunette in the front row is.
The only person who isn’t looking at me like that is the blonde who’s walking towards me, trying desperately not to look at me. I haven’t been able to stop looking at her since I walked in. Bombshell. That’s how I’d describe her. She’s like classic California with way more curves. Skin a sun kissed tan and honey hair that I would swear has been nowhere near bleach. I run my eyes up and down her as she comes to stand in front of me. My dick responds to her automatically, and I adjust my stance so it won’t be obvious. I’d love to have my hands full of those curves.
I extend my hand to her. “What’s your name?”
She takes my hand, giving me an unexpectedly firm handshake. “Mayra.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
She nods, discomfort pouring off her in waves. The urge to get her to loosen up is overwhelming. I place my hand on the small of her back, guiding her closer to the table. “We’ve got a lot of toys here,” I say. “Help me hand them out, and then you can help me demonstrate.”
“Okay.” She hasn’t looked me in the eye once. She grabs a couple of the dildos, handing them to the girls in the first row. I pass some out too, smiling at the nervous laughter that comes with me handing them a fake penis. Granted, some of these are a little outrageous. They range in shape and size from smooth and small to huge and painfully realistic. That doesn’t even cover the colors, of which some are flesh tone, some more like the Skittles rainbow.
When everyone has something and Mayra is back at the front of the room, there are only a couple toys left. A blue vibrating dildo that is ridged and looks almost serpentine, and a realistic dildo—still in its packaging—that looks like candy. It’s a swirl of pink, blue, and orange, and the name on the package tells me it’s called a Mustang. I smile inwardly. It’s a pretty good name for a dildo. “Pick your poison,” I say to Mayra, gesturing to the toys. The look she gives the blue one almost makes me laugh. Instead, she points to the Mustang. “Good choice,” I say. “This is called the Mustang, so it’s bound to give you a pretty good ride.”
