She needed cock. Goddamn, did she need cock! It had been at least two days since she had last felt six inches of hard, hot prick fucking her cunt. Christ, shit, fuck, piss – it couldn't have been that long ago! She had never gone that long without cock – unless you counted the days she was on the rag, but even then some courageous dick would fuck her pussy.
Connie felt the incessant inch between her thighs. What now? Finger her pussy, pretending that it was the six inches of cock she needed? Christ, any woman knew that what a man had hanging, or erecting, between his legs was a better thing to get off on than one or two fingers.
She delved between her thighs. God, her cunt was really wet! She felt, the labes. God, her cunt-lips were swollen! She felt her clit. Christ, she needed a fuck – a cock, a Goddamn husky cock that would give her pussy a real good reaming all night.
What to do?
She turned around in the chair, grabbed the phone and dialed.
"Jason, I know I shouldn't be calling you at home, but if I don't get a Goddamn good fucking right now, I'll go bananas!"
"Connie… er… don't ever call me at home again," replied a husky whispering voice. Now angry: "What if my wife had answered?"
"Oh, fuck your wife!" Connie said, slamming down the phone.
It was Saturday night, Connie had a hot cunt, and one of her favorite fuckers had just refused to come over to her apartment and douse the flames that roared through her pussy.
Another phone call.
"Martin, what time you closing tonight?"
"Who's this? Connie? Oh, hi, Connie. Listen, I'm really busy right now, I gotta fix a millions drinks, the club's packed tonight, and…"
"Fuck me!" Connie blurted.
"What!?"
"Listen, Martin, get your ass away from that bar and come over to my apartment and fuck me. I'm dying for prick. I'm gonna go crazy if some guy doesn't come over and lay me. Now, are you gonna do it or do I have to…" Shit, what could she do if Martin refused her?
"Connie, I can't. I'm busy. Listen, how about tomorrow? I'll pick you up at…"
Connie slammed the phone down again.
"Fuck!" she screamed. "This is fucking crazy. I wanta be laid, and nobody's willing. Fuck, shit, piss!"
She went into her bedroom, stripped off her clothing. Throwing her blouse to the left, her hip-huggers to the right, and her bra overhead, she stared at the mirror. She stared at her naked body, evaluating it from a man's point of view. She had tits made to be fondled. God, they were still firm, still fully packed. And, shit, her nipples were made to be sucked.
Connie couldn't believe it. She wasn't some ugly hag. She didn't have bad breath, hairy legs or zits on her tits. She had one of the finest thirty-three-year-old bodies in town. Wasn't that what her last fucker had told her?
"Shit, Connie, you've got a body built like a shit brick house." Those were Jason Moresby's words as they had lain on the sofa, he on top of her, his prick buried balls-deep in her horny cunt.
They were drunk, had been drinking since their last fuck – which was exactly an hour ago. He had called her tits scrumptious, her cunt delicious, and he had licked her nipples, tongue-tickled her navel before finally settling his mouth over the lips of her cunt.
Cunt-eating. Yeah, that was something that she had always dug. And Jason was no slobbering idiot. He ate her pussy, licked up and down her creamy cunt so many times that Connie was ready to crawl the walls.
With every upward lash of his tongue, his nose rubbed her clit. And that made Connie scream.
"Oh, goood! You eat me so gooood! Aaaiiieeee!!"
And with every downward stroke of his tongue, his chin would bump her asshole. And that would make Connie wrap her thighs even more intensely around his face. And she would writhe and scream.
"You Goddamn mother-fucker! Oh, Christ, eat my cunt! Eat my cunt! Eat my cunt!"
And when Jason shifted around to present his prick to her opening mouth, his lips would leave her cunt momentarily. And that would make Connie eager for more tongue, more nose-rubs against her clit, more chin-bumps against her asshole.
Jason's cock stabbed into her face. Connie grabbed his prick eagerly, guiding it to her pursed lips. She planted little French kisses all over the hot head, then engulfed his entire tool.
Cock-sucking. God, that was another thing that she really dug! There were times that she wished she weren't so good at giving blow-jobs. Maybe if she were a beginner, those big cocks wouldn't come so fast. But Connie knew she was good. Too many men had told her that she was the best cock-sucker they'd ever known.
Cock-sucker. The best cock – sucker.
Shit, she had a reputation, and now she would have to prove to Jason that she was second to font when it came to eating prick.
She gobbled his cock-head, her lips sliding tightly down the shaft. His prick was a good eight inches, but there had been so many cocks down her throat since she was fourteen that eight inches of stiff prick was no big deal.
She moved back, her lips tightly gripping the shaft, then the cock-head, as she retreated. Then down again, her mouth opening wide as her lips came into contact with wiry crotch hairs.
Up… down… up… down. Shit, the asshole was coming already! That was the only fucking thing wrong when you were the best cock-sucking chick in the world. The pricks didn't last very long. Why the hell couldn't they control their balls? Why the fuck couldn't their pricks stay hard?
The cum was throbbing, spurting, then blasting out of his cock like water from a sawed-off fire hydrant. The spurts of sperm clogged her throat, but she gulped and kept gulping, not a drop of cock-cream escaping her mouth.
And there were other things about being the best cock-sucker in the world that Connie wasn't happy with. Every time those cocks blasted into her mouth, it was thrilling and challenging for her – but where the hell was her own Goddamn orgasm?
Even now, as Jason's cock spewed forth his cream, where the hell were those good cunt-eating lips of his? Connie knew where they were. Jason's lips would be spread in an ecstatic smile as he felt the thrill of coming in her mouth.
Jason screamed: "Oh, baby, you are the best! Goddamn, you're the best. Suck that jizz, baby! Eat my cum! Shit, my prick's never been sucked off so good before!"
Connie was pleased when Jason once again reaffirmed that she was the best cock-sucker in the world. But while he was moaning and groaning, his lips just weren't glued to her pussy-flaps any more. No more up and down tongue-swipes over her hot gash. No more tongue-teases across her erect clit. The bastard was simply getting off in her mouth, having all the ecstasy while she was out in the cold left with nothing but her reputation for being the world's number-one cock-sucker.
Connie sucked heartily on his prick, swallowing down the last of his spunk. Then she bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make Jason scream: "Mother-fucking shit! What the hell didya do that for?"
"Because you're a Goddamn asshole who cares about nothin' but gettin' his own rocks off!"
"What? Are you crazy or somethin'? I ate your cunt, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but where the hell were your lips when I was sucking your prick all the way? Where the hell was my big 'O'?"
"What the shit's a big 'O'?"
"Dumb fuck," Connie mumbled.
"Come on, tell me. What's a big 'O'?"
Connie shook her head. "Oreo cookie, dumb shit!"
Connie would never forget the look on Jason's face. She stared at the mirror again, realizing that her cunt was running over with pussy juice as she thought about Jason and his cunt-eating lips and his eight inches of prick and his question about "O".
"Orgasm, you dumb shit!" Connie said angrily to the equally irate image of herself in the mirror. "Shit, what a dumb fuck Jason is."
Connie spun around, glanced over her shoulder, spied the nifty curve of her ass in the mirror. What the hell was wrong with her? She was beginning to fear that none of her fuckers would remember how really hot she looked. Christ, she knew she had a full, fleshy ass on her. All the guys she had fucked had told her that she had the hottest ass in town.
Connie frowned. Maybe they didn't mean that literally. Maybe it was just a figure of speech. Like: "Connie's the best cock-sucker in town." Or: "Connie's the best lay in town." Maybe they just said all those things to make her feel good.
She studied her ass in the mirror. She wiggled her buns, convincing herself that she did have a good ass, that it was the type of ass most girls envied and most men whistled at as she stooped over to put groceries into her car.
Now that she had studied herself in the mirror, Connie knew that she'd strike it rich with some man tonight. In a town full of five thousand people, half the population had to be male, and at least half of those males had to have pricks that would come erect at the sight of her cunt, ass and tits.
She vowed to try again, this time the nice-girl approach. She picked up the phone, lay back in the bed. She kicked off her panties and spread her legs.
"Hello, may I talk to Reverend Worthington please?"
Connie moved her hand down across her belly and into the moist meat of her cunt. Her pussy was oozing with juice, making slushy noises like a boot pulling out of mud.
"Hello, Reverend Worthington," Connie said sweetly. "This is Connie Ryan."
"O-Oh, hello, Connie, er, I mean Miss Ryan. What can I do for you? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"Yes, I am, Worthie dear. I want you to come over and listen to my problem."
"Well, er, as you know, Miss Ryan, the church social is tonight and the whole congregation will…"
"But it won't take yew long to hear me out, Worthie dear. Here, listen to how bad my problem sounds."
Connie placed the telephone between her thighs as she rubbed her cunt-lips squishily over the phone, sending her need for cock all the way across town and into Reverend Worthington's ear.
"Connie! Er, Miss Ryan… Miss Ryan!" Connie heard Reverend Worthington's voice pleading between her thighs. She lifted the phone to her ear.
"Did you hear my problem, Worthie dear?"
"M-Miss Ryan. What was that noise?"
"It was my cunt, Worthie dear. And my pussy has a problem. It needs a cock – real bad. Wanta bear it again?"
Connie heard Reverend Worthington gasp.
"Miss Ryan, your problem does sound… er, urgent. It's just that I'm really tied up with the church social. Why don't you see me after church tomorrow? Say, around noon or so. I'll…"
"Goddamn you sonofabitch! Didn't you hear how much my cunt needs a Goddamn fucking? I'm hot. I wanta fuck!"
"Now, Miss Ryan. No need to get hysterical."
"Fuck you, Reverend. That's the last time that I'll ever beg you to fuck me."
"Now, don't be hasty, Miss Ryan. I'm sure…"
"I'm sure, too! I'm sure that you're never gonna get into my cunt again. Good-bye and amen, Worthie dear!"
She slammed the phone on the Reverend Worthington as he was babbling: "Now, Miss, Ryan, I'm sure that your situation…"
Jesus, Connie realized, she had just struck out. Who the hell was she gonna get to fuck her on a Saturday night in a hick town like Weedville? Well, she was determined to get cock if she had to go out to Tom Brewster's dairy and grab one of his Holstein bulls.
Connie slithered into a loose mini-dress minus bra and panties. She was gonna find cock, if she had to stop the first guy she met and beg him to fuck her.
Dabs of perfume behind the ears, on the nipples, underarms and between the legs. She grabbed her purse and headed angrily for the door.
She opened the door.
A boy stood there, his hand ready to push the doorbell.
"Oh, hello, Miss Ryan. I came to collect for the paper. I missed you every night this week. I'm sure glad you're home tonight."
Connie stared at the boy. He looked delicious, especially when she was as hot to fuck as she was tonight. Well, she had promised herself that the first person with a cock between his legs was going to be the first guy she asked for a fuck. But a boy? Christ, she wondered if he could even get it up.
But there was that itch between her legs. She had struck out on three of the very best fuckers in Weedville and she just bad to get some cock to scratch the itch between her legs.
"And I'm glad you found me tonight," Connie said, smiling at the boy. "Why don't you come in?"