by Daddy X
The matronly woman sat up stiffly in her chair. “Honestly,”
she said, tossing her pen on the desktop, “I don’t know what you girls were
thinking.”
Sarah stared at the counselor’s rug. “It sounded like a good
idea—at first,” she said, ears reddening.
“What? An idea like that? Don’t you know my husband is
police chief in this town? What if they’d been involved? All the slander for
your so-called sorority? Or, for the entire school for that matter. … Eata Cocka
Day, for heaven’s sake.”
“We had no way of knowing what would happen. It’s really not
that big a deal.”
“Are you kidding? With
cell phone cameras so common these days? YouTube? Facebook? Twitter? What a
mess. Who ever thought this up?”
“We figured we did it on dates anyway. May as well use our
talents to get the sorority house fixed up. It was only supposed to be a few of
us actually doing it. Umm … the way we’d first planned it.”
The woman swiveled her computer screen so they both could
see. “Have you seen your selfies?”
“Some of the guys made videos.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself, wearing those kneepads.
What if your parents saw this?”
“That’s it? You can hardly tell it’s me. Face all distorted
with that big lump in my cheek. Mouth stretched wide. You can’t even see my
nose in his pubic hair.”
“That’s your tattoo on your chest.”
“Oh. Forgot about that.”
“And how did you decide who would be the ones to—oh God. To
put a male organ into their mouth?”
“Some of us volunteered. It's not so bad. As long as the
guys don't push on the back of your head.”
“Ecch.”
“But even when they do, it’s usually because it’s nearly
over. They’re humping like crazy, ready to come. They don’t want to slip out at
the last moment. Like that guy in the video, pulling my hair.”
“Shoot me now. And how many, young lady, did you put into your mouth?”
“Ummm. I guess I lost count. After the first fifteen or so.”
The counselor closed her eyes in dismay. “Fifteen penises,”
she muttered, slowly shaking her head.
“Maybe not actually fifteen men. Hard to keep track. Some
went for seconds. If they hung around and watched, they got plenty horny again.”
“So how many girls were involved?”
“Everybody. All twelve of us. We’re sisters, you understand.
Sorority sisters. After the party went viral, we got swamped. As it turned out,
everybody had to do their part.”
“And how many men did
show up?”
“Hard to say. We haven’t counted the tally yet. Even then,
probably not every single one paid. Not with all that chaos. See?” Sarah pointed
at the screen. “There in the background?”
“Someone said the queue went around the block! Hundreds of
them. How could any twelve girls-”
“After our jaws got achey, we used all our holes. My ass is still
sore from the last guy.”
“Oh. My. God. Do you know you could all have been arrested
for prostitution?”
“Oh, I doubt that. Seeing your husband was first.”
“Whaa?”
“And last. But don’t worry; we didn’t charge the cops. After
all, charity begins in the community.”
Daddy, you are a comic genius!
ReplyDeleteFabulous bit of flash, and dead on topic!
Squeezed that one out at the last minute. I tried a serious vein, but that went nowhere.
DeleteA logical evolution of the old "Kissing Booth" events at community fundraisers. Maybe this kind of thing could replace all those fundraising emails and letters and phone calls from political campaigns! Wipe out Citizens United with Cocksuckers United! but wait--would that mean all elections would be won by whoever had the most young and attractive fans? Hmm. Not sure whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing. I guess we'd better limit that kind of fundraising to conservation and ecological and human services charities. Especially human services.
ReplyDeleteI can see the sign at rallies.
DeleteThis is a good example of a sex act that usually gives more immediate pleasure to the receiver than to the giver, so it lends itself to fundraising. However, we haven't agreed on a precise definition of "charity." If the guys pay for blowjobs, and the money is designated for repairs/renovations to the sorority house, should the girls get to claim the value of their labour as a tax deduction? (I say yes.)This piece definitely suggests possibilities.
ReplyDeleteI'd sure like to research those possibilities. Perhaps I could do their taxes in a kind of exchange. Not that I'm any good at doing taxes.
DeleteBut we won't say anything. Let's first see how well they do their jobs. The blow type job.
I love it! Such a lovely progression, with a delicious final twist!
ReplyDelete"Eata Cocka Day, for heaven’s sake"
ReplyDeleteI started laughing out loud here, and didn't stop until the end. Loved this, more than I expected, even knowing how funny you can be.
Thanks Annabeth. Glad to provide a chuckle.
ReplyDeleteSally? Hi. I don't think we've heard from you till now. Welcome, and glad you enjoyed. Thanks for saying so!
Great! "Eata cocka day." I loved it! And I especially loved the surprise twist ending. How appropriate.
ReplyDeleteBTW, are you aware that ejaculate travels at 28mph when it leaves the male body? I'm in awe of all of those porn stars who can swallow without gagging, or throwing up (which actually happened to me, once, a very long time ago--horrifying then, so funny now that I used it in a book.) So guys, think about that the next time you want her to swallow. It may have unintended consequences.