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Authors: Chad Kultgen

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BOOK: Average American Male
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I go in, look in the mirror, can’t draw a bead on my face—still too drunk. Fuck it. I walk back into her bedroom and say, “I really think I should go.”

She shakes her head and pats the bed beside her. “No, stay here for a few more minutes. You’ll feel better. I promise.”

Two things fight for dominance in my head: this hot bitch’s tight eighteen-year-old ass and Thick-neck’s fists. The ass wins by a land-slide. I sit down. She starts kissing me and shoots a hand down my pants. Forty-five seconds later, she’s sucking my cock. I wonder if she wants to fuck and I wonder if she has any rubbers. I’m about to ask her when somebody knocks at the door. “Cammie, come dance with me.”

It’s fucking Thick-neck.

She rolls her eyes, takes my cock out of her mouth, and says, “Richard, I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Come on, babe. It’s your favorite song.” I try to listen to the song through the door to gain some insight into what kind of an eighteen-year-old college slut Cammie might be, but it’s too garbled.

I look around for a window, but strangely Cammie doesn’t have one. I am positive I’m going to die at the hands of Richard the thick-necked keg pumper.

He says, “Cammie, come on, just one dance.”

Cammie does a few more head bobs on my cock, then says, “Okay, I’m feeling kind of sick, just give me fifteen minutes, then I’ll give you one dance.”

He says, “All right, babe. I’ll be at the keg if you feel better sooner.”

She says, “I fucking hate that asshole,” then gets right back to work on my cock. It’s a fairly well-executed blow job. I’ve had better, but not many. As Cammie starts to play with my balls I kind of wish I was getting a blow job from the twenty-four-year-old version of Cammie so she’d have a little more experience, but then my thoughts come back to the fact that I’m getting my dick sucked by an eighteen-year-old hot college bitch and I’m about to blow my load.

I say, “Do you have any condoms?”

She stops sucking my cock and says, “I want you to finish in my mouth.”

I have no problem with this. I say, “Okay.”

As she sucks my cock, I assume that she’s just into swallowing.

But after I shoot my load in her mouth and then sneak back out into the party and watch her give Richard his promised dance as well as a minute-long tongue-kiss, I realize she was just using me.

chapter twenty-eight

Second Date

I ring Alyna’s doorbell for a second time, meet her hippie roommate for a second time, make small talk for a second time, and wait for Alyna to come out of what I assume is her bedroom for a second time.

She walks in front of me out of her apartment complex and I see that her ass is as good as I remember. I decide that if tonight leads to any point at which there might be even a remote possibility I can fuck her or get her to suck my cock, I’ll try my best to make sure it happens.

We get in my car and I reach to put the keys in the ignition. She grabs my hand, stops me, and says, “Does this feel kind of weird to you?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know, maybe a little.”

“It feels really weird to me.”

Fuck. It’s over before it even started.

I say, “You want to call it off?”

“No. No. It’s not necessarily weird in a bad way.”

She squeezes my hand and I feel her fingers, kind of hard and wiry.

I wish those fingers were squeezing my dick.

She says, “Let’s go.”

I start up the car and we head off. The ride is pretty uneventful. We never really address either of our breakups or how we felt about our first date. She tells me about last night’s episode of Conan O’Brien, which I missed, and I tell her about the new 50 Cent video. At one point she laughs at something I say and puts her hand on my shoulder as she’s laughing, which forces her to turn her tits at me. That’s when I notice the button-up shirt she’s wearing gives me a slight glimpse of one of her tits. I take it in. It’s nice. I want to be sucking it.

We get to the Smoke House in Burbank, which I remember Casey taking me to a few times. It’s an interesting place if nothing else and if the date itself goes sour, the senior citizen lounge act will be entertaining.

We get a table kind of by the stage and order a few drinks to start the following conversation:

She says, “So why’d you and your girlfriend break up?”

“She thought we were getting married and I didn’t.”

“I guess that’s a pretty big thing to disagree about.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Why’d you and your boyfriend break up?”

“He was a complete dick and I was tired of dating a complete dick.”

I wonder what it was about him that made him a complete dick. I don’t ask her. I’m sure I’m fully capable of duplicating whatever it was.

I just say, “Fair enough.”

She says, “Do you think it’s too soon to be dating other people?”

“No.”

“My boyfriend and I were dating for almost a year and a half, and I know you’re supposed to have some time by yourself before you jump back into dating and all that, but I don’t really feel like I need any time. I’m over him. I was over him while we were dating. What do you think?”

“I’m pretty much the same way.”

We get our drinks. She raises her glass and says, “Let’s do a toast.”

“To what?”

“To . . .” She thinks. “. . . seeing what happens.”

“Sounds good.”

We clink glasses and drink.

We talk about a lot of things through the course of our dinner and have at least three more drinks each. I find out she’s a senior at UCLA. She has two brothers—one is older and lives in New York and does something on Wall Street and the other is one year younger and plays baseball at Arizona State. Her mom and dad were high school sweethearts who still live in the town they were born in. She’s twenty-one but has never gotten a driver’s license. She’s only been in two serious relationships. She won’t give the exact number of people she’s slept with, but it’s under ten. She has freckles on her shoulders. When she was seven years old she found nine hundred dollars in a garbage bag behind the dumpster in her alley. When she was ten her brother threw the metal lid of a coffee can at her like a Frisbee and it cut the two middle fingers on her left hand to the bone. As a result she has no feeling in the tips of those fingers.

I tell her similar information about myself and the date seems to be going well. When she gets up to go to the bathroom, I watch her ass and think about it naked spread over my face as we do the sixty-nine.

When she comes back, she puts a hand on my shoulder as she walks around the table, which I take as a good sign.

She says, “So you ready to hit the road?”

“Sure.” I pay the bill and we leave.

In the car she says, “So do you want to check out my apartment?

My roommate’s supposed to be spending the night at some camp-out thing.”

“Yeah.”

Although this kind of offer would normally mean a girl is ready to be fucked, I can’t be sure because of the strange circumstances sur-rounding the date and her behavior on our first date. Nonetheless, it’s well worth my time to see what happens.

Once we get inside her apartment she gives me the grand tour, ending at her bedroom, which is decorated in a pretty normal college girl kind of way. There are more pillows than necessary on her bed, a poster of Einstein on her wall, and a little bookshelf with college philosophy books and classic literature on it. In the corner she has a thirteen-inch TV.

She sits on her bed and slips her shoes off. I notice a picture stuck in her mirror of her and her ex-boyfriend. I wonder if she forgot to take it down or if she left it up on purpose. I don’t ask.

She says, “Do you want to watch some TV?”

“Okay.”

She turns on her TV and I sit down next to her on her bed, closer than I need to. She doesn’t move away. She says, “You know, I’m sorry about our first date.”

I don’t know why I say it, but it seems right to say, “Me too.”

She leans in and kisses me. It’s a good kiss, one that makes me ready to fuck her immediately. I reach up and put my hand behind her head, and she does the same to me. We kiss for a few seconds before she lies down, taking me with her.

Then she stops and says, “Wait.”

Fuck.

Then she sits up, unbuttons her shirt, and takes off her bra.

Fuck yes.

Her tits are un-fucking-believable, rock hard, perfectly round B cups. She takes my hands and puts them on her tits, then kind of moans. She drops back down on top of me and we start going at it.

She half rips my shirt off and unzips my pants before I know what the fuck is going on. She shoves her hand down my pants and starts jerking me off. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a girl who’s this enthusiastic about dick. For a split second I’m sure I’m going to blow a load in my pants, but I hold it back.

As she’s tugging at my cock, I reach down and unzip her pants, which she helps me take off. She lets go of my dick for a second and pulls off her underwear before yanking off my pants and boxers so we’re both completely naked in her bed. Despite the number of times I’ve jerked off to this exact fantasy, I never imagined it could be this good.

My cock is harder than I can remember it being in a long time when she starts jerking at it again.

She says, “This is what I wanted to do the first time we went out.”

“Me too.”

“I’m glad we didn’t, though.”

“Me too.” I say it without really knowing what the fuck I’m saying or what that could even mean. All I can focus on is her hand on my cock.

She says, “Do you like it soft,” and she kind of teases my dick with her fingers, “or hard,” then she squeezes my cock and yanks on it kind of hard.

The fact that she’s so aggressive and vocal about this entire event is again about to make me blow my load, so I take the opportunity to shift my focus to her.

I slide a few fingers into her pussy, which is already pretty wet, and say, “How do you like it?”

She kind of grinds on my hand at her own pace and I give as much resistance as I think she might like.

She says, “Just like that,” with her hand still on my cock, but not as intent on jerking me off.

I finger her for a while listening to her moan and feeling her hand on my cock until I feel her pull away. I’ve gotten enough head to know that as she starts kissing me on the neck and then on the chest that her mouth’s headed for my dick.

A few seconds later I’m not disappointed as she has one hand on my balls and her mouth on my cock. It’s a pretty good blow job. Not quite the best I’ve ever had, but definitely good. I stop wondering if this is going to be a precursor to fucking when I realize I’m about to cum. I reach down and squeeze her shoulder to give her fair warning, but she keeps sucking and right as I cum she squeezes my nuts a little, which is a new experience for me and not unenjoyable, then swallows the entire load I shoot in her mouth with a little giggle. This is more than pleasantly surprising. It confirms my hopes that Alyna is a girl who not only genuinely enjoys sucking cock, but also fully enjoys all aspects of the act. She keeps sucking my cock for a minute or so after I’ve shot my load, which is also a new experience for me that I find much more enjoyable than the nut squeeze.

When she finishes she crawls back up and lies next to me on her back, rubbing my chest and kissing me on the neck in a way that lets me know she’s ready for her turn.

I spread her legs and bury my face in her cunt, which is easily the best-looking pussy I’ve ever seen. It’s well trimmed and neat with smallish lips and a decent taste. I flick my tongue at her clit for a few seconds before really going to work and putting a few fingers in her as I eat her out. After twenty or thirty seconds of this, she’s kind of writh-ing around and moaning with her hands on my head pulling my face deeper into her pussy. She accidentally pulls a little too hard once and hits my nose against her pubic bone, which hurts a little, but not enough to stop me from doing my work.

Once she gets completely worked up and she’s about to cum, she pushes me away, rolls over on her stomach, gets up on all fours with her ass in the air and her legs spread so her pussy’s kind of open and sticking out.

She says, “I want to cum like this.”

I’ve only ever seen a guy eat a girl out from behind in a porno movie, but I have nothing against it as I spread Alyna’s ass from behind, which I’m dumbfounded by when I look at how perfect it is again. I get off the bed slightly so my face is at her ass level and pull her back so she’s still on all fours at the edge of the bed as I lick her cunt from the back.

She keeps backing into my face as I’m eating her out, which causes my nose to actually touch her asshole. I’m surprised to find that it smells good, kind of like pears or some kind of berry. I wonder if she uses scented toilet paper or actually sprays some kind of body spray in her asshole on a regular basis, or maybe she just thought that at some point tonight she’d wind up with my nose in her ass so she used the spray, based on an educated guess.

Her nice-smelling asshole makes me less apprehensive about really cutting loose, and a few times I notice my tongue getting a stray lick in on the asshole itself, which she seems to genuinely enjoy. This makes me think that at some point I could possibly fuck her in the ass.

My neck starts to hurt from the weird angle my head’s suspended at but her perfect ass in my face and her escalating moaning makes me want to finish her off like this. So I continue for a few more minutes, ignoring the burning pain.

Right after one of her loudest moans she says, “Spank me.”

Holy shit. I have spanked girls I’ve fucked in the past and some have even liked it. But none have demanded it of me. I hit one of her ass cheeks.

She says, “Harder.”

I hit her harder.

She says, “Again.”

I get in about seven or eight solid slaps before she cums like a ton of bricks, shudders a little, and then collapses in a heap on her bed.

She rolls over on her back and I lie down next to her.

She says, “That was great.”

“Yeah, it was.”

I’m kind of curious as to why we didn’t fuck, but more than curious I’m refreshed by the immensely satisfying and enthusiastic blow job she delivered and her clearly expressed and unique preference for being eaten out.

BOOK: Average American Male
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