Cock worship, or, Charlotte

I’ve been writing about how I want Charlotte to get in touch with her hunger for my cock. This writing has made Charlotte uncomfortable, as she has understood me to be criticizing her cocksucking technique, to be expressing dissatisfaction with her. As I wrote, this represents a misunderstanding of how my brain works.

1) When I’m unhappy with someone, for any reason, I generally say, “I’m unhappy with you. Here’s why. Here’s what I want you to do about it.”

2) I’ve not yet encountered a situation I couldn’t imagine improving. That is information about ME. Not any particular situation.

So.

After some back and forth, I told Charlotte to expect to suck my cock at length. I poured us each a drink. We said “cheers,” and took our first sips.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” I began. “We are going to drink and chat for fifteen minutes. Then, you will suck my cock for thirty minutes. No longer. You will attend to my cock as if you desperately wish you could spend two, three hours on it, as if thirty minutes is nowhere near enough. You will use all the parts of your mouth – your lips, your tongue, your jaw. You will savor my cock as if it were the best fucking lollipop in the world.”

Charlotte laughed. Nervously.

“My orgasm is not the point. The point is the pleasure you will be giving me, I will be taking from you, along the way.”

A few more minutes of small talk, and I undressed. Fully. I lay down. “Get between my knees,” I instructed her.

Earlier in the day, Charlotte had sent me, unbidden, the hottest ever selfie – her head cocked, her eyes looking naughtily up and to the right, her black blazer almost but not quite hiding the curve of her left breast as it strained at the red/orange top that was struggling to contain it. Her full lips are together, in a sly smile. She looks for all the world like the most innocent, naughtiest, most eager little cocksucker imaginable.

I replaced her profile picture in my contacts with this one. Every time I get a text from her thenceforth, my cock will stiffen. Regardless of the content of the text.

Charlotte lowered her mouth on me. I said something about how happy my cock is in her mouth. She misheard me, thinking I had said something about the temperature of her mouth being hot.

“It’s warm,” I offered. “Deliciously, perfectly, warm.”

For the next thirty minutes, I instructed Charlotte, giving her my advanced cocksucking graduate level seminar.

Don’t do the same thing for more than ten seconds.

Now just use your tongue.

Now just use your lips.

Lick my balls while you play with the shaft with your hand.

Play with my balls while you lick my cock.

Make me want to, need to, push your head down on my cock.

You have two hands! Use them both.

Some children – especially those who suffer from shame – struggle with the concept of process, with the fact that between here and there lies a journey. Often, they tell themselves they’re bad because of the distance of the journey. These are kids who grow up thinking they’re “bad” at violin, because they are beginners. Who feel shame at gaps in their knowledge, rather than seeing opportunities in discovering new areas about which they can learn.

I was this way until well into my 30s. Maybe my 40s.

Charlotte has a touch of this when it comes to her cocksucking. Charlotte sucks cock phenomenally. Now, she’s learning how to suck my cock phenomenally. As if she knows how to read classical Arabic but has just arrived in Egypt. As if she can ski a green slope expertly but has never been on a black diamond slope. As if she learned to drive on a Kia with an automatic transmission, and now, she’s in a standard transmission Porsche.

Or maybe those latter examples are off, slightly. It’s not that I’m difficult or advanced. It’s that I’m different. I’m a unique individual.

In any event… Charlotte was the proverbial good girl. She did as I asked. At length. And perfectly.

“I feel like the luckiest guy in the world, right now!” I said.

“Because you have a hot, young woman sucking your cock!” she offered.

“NO!” I protested. “Because I have you sucking my cock – and sucking it precisely as I want you to!” I said.

When thirty minutes had passed, I filled Charlotte’s mouth with my cum. And I sent her on her way, unsatisfied.

Next time….

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