Page 26 of Baby Girl

“Damn, Kelli. You’re wound up, aren’t you?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You just finger fucked me into a coma while I was bent over a table in a public outdoor restaurant -- while people walked by on the sidewalk. I felt like that orgasm was extracted from my chest, through my soul, and exited out my pussy, Erik. Have you ever had an orgasm like that? I fucking doubt it. I like fucking you, and I fucking like you. Make note of that. Put it in your Outlook in that outdated Blackberry you carry. Make a permanent note of it, Kelli likes fucking me.”

“You’re a mouthy little fucker, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I was just kidding, don’t get mad at me,” she said apologetically.

“Not at all, actually, I like it. That’s different, and a turn on, Kelli. Good work,” I said, waving my hand toward her, palm up.

As she started to speak, the waiter approached with our food.

“Two Cobb salads?” he asked, holding a salad in each hand.

“Yes, can we get those boxed to go, please? We have had an emergency come up,” I said, as I winked at Kelli.

“I’m sorry for the delay, sir. Normally we’re quicker. It’s just, well…we just opened, it’s early,” the waiter apologized.

“No concerns, just box them to go, and bring the check please. We have just had an emergency,” I said in a friendly tone.

As the waiter walked away, Kelli looked at me, smiling. There were so many things about her that separated her from the other women that I had ever exposed myself to - her naturally gorgeous looks, for one. She was stunningly beautiful just being herself. No make-up, no special presentation. Just being her natural self, she was breathtaking. Her naturally submissive attitude, personality, and demeanor certainly were a breath of fresh air to me. Not having to train someone to be or act as I preferred them was quite a comfort. There was no worry about her reverting back to who she was by nature. Naturally, this was Kelli. Take her or leave her.

“Where are we going?” Kelli asked as the waiter walked away.

“To the mall, Kelli, we’re going to the mall,” I responded, smiling.

KELLI. I can’ really say for sure when I became sexually active. I know in the summer of my eighth grade year, I began to figure out how to perform orally on a guy. My first was Billy Benton, in the summer before freshman year. Having him show immediate pleasure from what I was doing, watching his eyes roll back into his head while he was in my mouth…it was pure heaven. For the first time in my life, I knew, for certain, that something I was doing, that I was in charge of, was making someone so happy that they reached climax. It had absolutely nothing to do with them, and it had everything to do with me. I was one hundred percent in charge of making that person happy. And happy I made them. Billy came in my mouth after about a minute. Starting that summer, I sucked every guy off that I could.

The next summer was a revelation. A few weeks before my sophomore year, I met a man at the convenience store. He never told me his age. I was fifteen. I lied, and told him I was eighteen. I really doubt that he believed me, but we left together. I was driving on a restricted license at the time, and was supposed to be traveling to and from school only. My father had provided me, through high school, with a fairly new BMW from the dealership to drive. My early development of boobs, dyed hair, tan skin from the summer, and the car may have convinced the guy that I was eighteen.

I followed him home, and we went into his apartment. He demanded sex, but neither of us had protection. At the time, I had never had sex with anyone, just oral. I acted like I had been active with sex, and he believed me. I told him if he let me suck him off, I would come back later for sex. I remember feeling if I could make him cum by sucking him off that it would be some form of confirmation that I was truly good at what I was doing with all of the other guys my age.

He stood in front of me in the apartment, and I got down on my knees. He unzipped his pants, and pulled out his dick. It was huge. When he first lulled it out, it wasn’t hard, but when I reached for it, I realized it was the size of my wrist. I started sucking it, and it immediately got hard in my mouth.

He had a tattoo on his wrist, “Kate”.

The carpet smelled like the basement in Heather’s house, where it always flooded. I tried not to smell the carpet, and closed my eyes. As he got hard, I pulled my mouth away from his dick, and looked at it. I was kind of looking at it to admire it. I had never seen anything like it before. When I did, he grabbed my head and forced it into my mouth, shoving it all the way into my throat.

He started talking loud and screaming, calling me a little whore. He pressed himself against me, trying to force me to gag. It was at this time that I realized that I had no gag reflex. I thought he wanted me to gag, so I would cough a little bit, but I did not need to. When I coughed, he would say, “That’s it, choke you little whore”. The choking appeared to turn him on, so I continued to do it. Within a few minutes, he came. After he did, he walked to the bathroom. I got up and looked at my knees. They were covered in blood. I looked at the bathroom, and saw that the door was closed. I could hear the fan running.

I grabbed my purse, and let myself out quietly. I got into my car and drove home, excited, scared, and bloody. The scabs on my knees lasted for a month, primarily because I couldn’t stay off of them. When I found out that I had no gag reflex, and that I could please a grown man, all I wanted to do was be an oral companion to anyone that wanted me to.

Pleasing men pleased me. It was simple. Pleasing the boys in my class was easy; it took no effort, and no skill to speak of. Pleasing a man was a different story. If I could please a man, it was an accomplishment. To have someone with experience be pleased with my performance made me happier than Christmas morning. Happier than my birthday. Happier than winning at track or basketball. Pleasing a man made me happy, especially if he was married and disappointed with his wife. When he came in my mouth, I felt like I had truly accomplished something.

I never told anyone about the men that I pleased through my high school years. All of the boys in school shared stories about me, but I didn’t really care. No one could argue that I was having sex with them, because I was not. I was just sucking them off. The more practice I got, the better I became. I watched porn, and got different techniques, and tried them on guys, seeing which one worked best. By my junior year, and through my senior year, I would secretly look at my watch, and see how long it took for the guy to come. If I could make him cum quickly, it was as if I were receiving an added prize.

There was nothing, to me, that was more satisfying than knowing that I alone could make a guy cum in a matter of a few minutes. Just my mouth, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It was never all I wanted to do, and I did, later, yearn for sex, but I always had to know. I always had to know that I could make each guy cum, and that I could do it quickly. It made me feel like I went from wondering if they were happy to knowing they were. That confirmation, to me, was extremely important.

Now a college graduate and an adult, I felt like my oral skills were my best asset. Too bad there wasn’t a spot on a Driver’s License for our assets.

Height: 70”

Weight: 121

Eye color: Hazel

Birthdate: 1/13/1990