Best Things of my Life
The Best Three of Rahul’s life
Hello, friends. My warm greetings to the listeners of https://nightqueenstories.com
My name is Rahul.
In terms of my sexual escapades, I have been extremely lucky…or perhaps extremely unlucky. You, the reader, maybe the judge of that after you finish my short tale of torrid triumph. (Don’t you just love alliteration?) The downside of this story is that these three encounters are the only three times I have ever been blown, starting when I was eighteen up until now. I won’t tell you how old I am now, but let’s just say about 99% of the male population will have had more blowjobs than me in the same period. But I’d be willing to bet my life that 100% of men haven’t had a better head than me. And that, my friends, is the upside of these tales.
My first blowjob happened when I was still in high school, just before I graduated. I was 18, and I wasn’t a virgin at the time, but my first girlfriend who gave me any action was (no joke) a minister’s daughter. She was hotter than a good shit on a winter’s morning, but her sexuality was as cold as the toilet seat on said dawn. Yeesh. By the time I got her to give anything up, all she would stand for was a quick face-to-face pump in her bedroom at home. Hardly noteworthy stuff. She was shaved rather inexpertly, and her stubble chafed my nuts so bad that I had to stop and let the poor girl finish me with her hand. Not all bad, though. There’s nothing quite like seeing a girl in her Sunday best and being able to say “I blew my load on her tits one time”. Anyway, two years later was my first blowjob. And it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill type suck-off, either.
I was twenty years old and worked for a small-time, family-owned landscaping business in Maine. The coastal area I worked in was rife with the rich; like a little slice of Greenwich or Newport transplanted to a more picturesque location, with mountains and no New Yorkers. These rich people ranged from the 25-year-old lucky-schmuck day traders to 30 year old “I inherited this after calling a hit on my parents” lazy bums, to the 75-year-old “my life of hard work puts your worthless existence in perfect perspective, Untermenschen” assholes. So basically they were all a bunch a’ jerks, and I did my best to keep out of any contact with them. Leave the boss to work out the details. But the upside of working for all these twits was that they just couldn’t get enough of watching strapping young men trim their hedges with nail clippers for 8 hours a day and 60 greenbacks an hour.
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Doesn’t get much better than that.
So one Friday afternoon the boss sent me out alone to finish up a quick mulching and mowing job on a richer-than-rich peninsula, over on the other side of the bay. The whole area might as well have been made of gold. I was already ecstatic because the people there always gave nice tips, which were completely under the table. But when I got to the house another part of me got quite ecstatic as well.
And if there’s any confusion at this point, I’m talking about my dick. Just to clear that up.
She was 26 at the time, I later found out, and the trophy wife of one of the 3rd types of rich SOB. Hubby wasn’t home to smoke his cigar on the deck while watching and ridiculing my careful work (another thing to be ecstatic about), leaving pretty little Tina there all alone with me, the aforementioned strapping young lad trimming the hedges. She was, outwardly, a bimbo; long straight blonde hair, green eyes the color of which is usually reserved for creepy black cats, a rack that had probably caused a multitude of car accidents, and an ass and a pair of stems that have probably been responsible for an equal number of heart attacks. I’m not sure how the old man could stand the G-forces when they got it on. She must have been extra gentle or something. But for all those curves and striking features, she sure beat the stereotype of the dumb blonde. She worked as a dentist’s assistant when she wasn’t servicing her husband’s wrinkled member to get her weekly spending money.
I mulched all morning, and she invited me in for lunch, having already fixed me up a sandwich the size of a small tire, and a tall, dark beer. Drinking on the job wasn’t exactly encouraged, but I couldn’t resist. Had to hand it to the old man; she was well-trained.
We talked as we ate. She had a melodious voice, a sparkling laugh, and her smile just went right to my crotch. Her lips were made to be wrapped around some meat on a stick that was for sure. By the time we finished lunch the day had gotten even hotter, so I stripped off my shirt while I mowed the lawn. All those days in the gym had paid off, because I could see her watching me from the kitchen window, pretending to be washing dishes (even though they had a dishwasher) for an hour and a half before she came out onto the porch and called to me. I killed the motor and took off my cap, wiping sweat from my brow as I turned to her. She had changed into a bright floral sundress that went way up her shapely legs, and barely contained that rack with two little strings: one around her middle, and another around the neckline. She was carrying a big glass of iced tea, with a sprig of mint and a slice of lemon split picturesquely over the side. Too bad it wasn’t her legs.
She bent down from the deck to hand it to me, giving me the biggest eyeful of cleavage I’d ever had.
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“Oo! Hold on, I’ll get you a cookie to go with it,” she exclaimed, scampering off in her bare feet. As she turned, her dress whirled slightly. I about spilled the drink right down my chest: no panties! I got an eyeful again, and that time it was of perfect bare ass and a flash of the shaved peach slice. My cock grew to like the Grinch’s heart as I took a sip of the iced tea and spluttered with surprise. The little nymph had spiked it, and not too subtly either. I shook my head vigorously. There must have been at least three shots of vodka in there. Whoa, lady.
Tina returned with a big, soft sugar cookie, tits bouncing all the way. She sat down beside me where I had jumped up onto the edge of the unfinished deck, leaning towards me on one hand and jutting out her chest. I chewed slowly as I surveyed her with disbelief and a little skepticism. Who could blame me?
These things don’t exactly happen every day. She smiled winningly and complimented my landscaping skills.
“Thanks,” I said, “I aim to please.”
“Mm, yeah, so do I…” she said. Her eyes darted towards my still-swollen crotch, then back up. She bit her lip, and her swinging feet grazed my dirty jeans. “How’s the iced tea?”
“A little strong,” I answered coolly, looking off across the bay. She blushed, caught.
“I knew I put too much in,” she said sheepishly, pulling back slightly. She thought the jig was up and she was about to be rejected. Where on Earth did she get that idea?
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I asked with a laugh. “You know I have to drive home after this.”
“N-no!” she protested. “I’m not. Just…a little more susceptible, that’s all. You know my husband is quite old, and I don’t get out much, and-”
“You don’t need to get me drunk for that,” I scoffed. Her eyes came back up to mine. She smiled brightly at first…then wickedly. Her bedroom eyes were absolutely killer. I was on her web.
“You know, all this sun can dehydrate. The air’s so dry,” Tina said.
“Yeah, you have to drink a lot of water on days like this,” I said, surveying her.
“Oh!” she said coyly, putting a manicured nail to her lip and looking worried, “Our well isn’t drilled yet!” Then, leaning forward towards me (I stared unabashedly down her dress), “I guess I’ll have to find other ways to keep up my…fluid intake.” With that last phrase her soft, clean hand slid over my crotch. Quickly finding my shaft, she took hold of my jeans and stroked them lovingly. I groaned a bit.
“Um, I could get in a lot of trouble for this Tina, I-”
“Shut up,” she said with a giggle, leaning in close and whispering in my ear, “All you have to do is keep your legs from buckling while I get down on my knees…[squeeze of the dick]…and blow you.”
“How does that sound,” she giggled, giving my shaft an extra hand-hug for emphasis.
“Yes, please,” I croaked. She jumped up quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me after her. We only made it to the kitchen. Tina was like a starving animal. She pushed me back against the island (which was odd, since I’m 6’2″ and she was 5’5″) and dropped to her knees in front of me, between my boots. I leaned back on the counter, propping myself with my hands while she deftly unbuckled my belt. She looked up at me with a fiendish smile, then unzipped my fly with a flourish and pulled my jeans down around my thighs. Next went my boxers (with little red lips on them! I should have seen that omen when I put them on that morning!), and my cock sprang free, standing its proud 8 inches straight out. I keep my lemons shaved and nicely powdered for my comfort, and she was quite happy about that whole deal.
“Ooh, so nice,” she cooed, stroking me lightly and lovingly. Making sure I was watching, she slipped the spaghetti-thin straps of her sundress down off her shoulders and teasingly eased it down. When she finally revealed her splendid melons, my legs nearly buckled right there. Best tits you’ve ever dreamed of. Just think about that, and that’s what they were. Woo! She hefted them in her hands, pushing them together, inviting me. Letting them go, for the time being, she leaned forward, and without using any hands traced the tip of her tongue from my balls to my tip, tickling the underside of my shaft all the way. My cock jerked and twitched under this exquisite torture. She repeated, her tongue not missing a single square millimeter of my shaft. She smiled wickedly all the time, enjoying every second. At the height of her torture, she would deep-throat me to the base but still wouldn’t touch me with her lips. By the time she was done, I was about begging to feel them wrapped warmly around my hot rod. And when she was done, it was completely without warning. Suddenly she engulfed my entire cock down to the root, moaning as she slid it deep into her throat. Her lips wrapped around the base and her cheeks slightly caved as she sucked me like an industrial Shop-Vac.
“Haawww fuck!” I groaned, my toes curling and my hips jerking as I experienced my first blowjob ever. Her soft fingers played lightly with my balls as her head bobbed slowly up and down my shaft, her eyes never losing contact with mine as I stared dumbfounded down at her expert work: To the tip, then to the balls, every time. Every once in a while she would stop and swirl her tongue around my tip before resuming her cosmic blowjob. With every stroke I felt my shaft delve deep into her throat, her muscles rippling around my tip as she suppressed her gag reflex and took me down like medicine. Her mouth was warm and wet, and her throat was slick and tight. Her eyes glazed and her eyelids fluttered as she sucked me, moaning deeply all the time, her tits swinging heavily. I couldn’t take much more of this. I closed my eyes, my face a grimace. I listened to the slurp as my cock slid into her throat, and the light, musical hiss as she breathed between strokes. This woman was out of this world.
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Amazingly, she started to speed up, her head bobbing on my crotch about once every second. She lifted her tits and put them into play, letting my shaft slide between them as her head withdrew on each stroke. The soft warm flesh of the newcomers and her increased speed was just too much. Tina was thirsty, and she was about to drink her fill!
“Tina…Tina oh Jesus I’m gonna cum!” I rasped, looking down at her. She only moaned in response and sucked harder. She could have taken the paint off a car with that kind of power. Every muscle in my legs was tensed to snapping, and I leaned back on my hands in anticipation of the mind-numbing finish. She was very intent on keeping my cock in her mouth, wanting to taste it. As my balls drew up, my eyes pinched to a squint and my mouth hung open. I let out a breathless roar as if punched in the gut, and Tina quickly drew her lips up to my tip, looking up at me and simultaneously stroking me with her tits, sucking and swirling my tip furiously with her lips and tongue. Over the edge I tumbled like a lemming, taking one last big gulp of air as my cock exploded like Mount St. Helens. I’d never come so much in my life. I felt like a human bilge pump on the QE-2 as I poured what felt like liters of semen into Tina’s mouth with the force of a shotgun. The first spurt took her by surprise, hitting the back of her throat and filling her mouth to brimming in one go. She choked slightly and pulled back, her lips coming off my cock. Not a woman to leave a job unfinished, she kept me going with her tits. But the poor nymph didn’t even get a chance to swallow before my second spurt, twice the size of the first, hit her right in the eye and cheek.
“Oh, God! Yes!” she cried with pleasure as if the cum was ambrosia. Her words spilled her cheeks’ cargo, and my cum flowed down the corners of her mouth, over her chin, and down her neck. Always the good girl, she kept her face close, not moving to avoid my spurting member. Shots 3 and 4 splashed across her lips, nose, and forehead as she tilted her head back, her mouth open. I could see semen pooled on her tongue and hanging from her teeth in pure white strands. I kept cumming for 10 more spurts, painting her perfect face and tits with my biggest load to date. The last few pumps she urged out of me pooled between her jugs and ran down her chest as she pulled them away.
Tina sat back on her heels and looked up at me after clearing her eyes. I’d never seen a girl look so wantonly angelic as she licked her lips and used her fingers to scoop cum off her tits and dribble it into her waiting mouth. She would show me the load in her mouth, then swallow and show me again. I watched as I recovered, and she cleaned her face and tits until naught was left except in her hair and a few other stray spurts on her shoulders and neck.
“Mmmm…yum!” she cooed. I laughed breathlessly as she stood before me and kissed my cheek. Then, without bending her knees, she bent over in front of me and gently cleaned my softening shaft of every morsel of semen, swallowing contentedly when she finished. “I’m gonna go wash up,” she said, turning and walking to the bathroom, her tits and ass bouncing. I heard the water running, and I leaned on the counter while I finished my drink from before. I was still seeing stars when she returned. Her hair was wet and fell in locks about her shoulders, and she was wrapped in an all-too-small towel.
Knowing full well she had drained me beyond all hope of repair (for that day, anyway), she tortured me one last time by bending over the counter and waving her booty at me.
Whether she was offering me her cute pink pucker or her wet pink slit, I’ll never know. I never saw any more pink from Tina. After that one day where she drank down a gallon of my cum, I never saw her again. It was by chance, of course; I did work at her place again, but I never did see her. Pity. I quit the job the next year, when I had just turned 21, and became a manager in a small café. Which is where my next story picks up.
Why give up a 60 buck-an-hour job that gets me out in the sun and getting a workout for a lame-o job in a little coffee shop? Well, there are two reasons. Two very big reasons. The two reasons were owned by Sarah Hamilton. At 21 years of age, my life was of course still largely ruled by my little head. Not that I was complaining, of course. That little (or rather big…) guy got me into a lot of sticky situations. And I’m talking the good kind of sticky.
Work at Brimbo’s Café was easier than easy. Make coffee for a trillion people in the morning during the rush, then chill all day while the beatniks came in to get a cuppa joe and discuss poetry or whatnot. During those lazy summers, afternoons were when I got to know Sarah so well. She was short. Real short. About 4’11” which was why I was usually relegated to the cash register. She looked like a midget behind the high counter. Her hair was a very deep auburn, and she features pretty, with a smattering of freckles. She wasn’t all that skinny, but she wasn’t rolly either. Just a little thicker than the average 4’11” girl. This was a very good thing because otherwise she’d have had back problems from her 34C’s. And daaaamn did those look good on that little body of hers. She even had a great ass and curvy hips, perfect for hangin’ on to and slammin’ it in. And slam it I did, after about a month or so. We were going pretty steady at the time. Just a summer thing, really; lots of sex and small, inexpensive ventures in between. She was a tiger in the sack, I tell you what. Being so small, she could do the most amazing things when she was on top. Also, I could roll her over and twist her around for a change of position with the greatest of ease. The little sex-nut even let me do her in the butt a few times. But that’s not what this is about. This is about the one fabulous, out-of-this-world blowjob she gave me at the end of the summer.
Sure, I’d gotten head from her before. But she was always a little scared of it. Some chicks are just like that. Usually, she’d just give me a quick little suck to lube me up before jumping on top and playing rodeo cowgirl. But she never swallowed.
It was our last day of work, in late August, before heading back to university. At 3 PM it wasn’t exactly our busiest hour. There were a couple of people still in the shop, but they were sitting quietly, reading their books or staring blankly out the window like good java heads. The stunt Sarah pulled would have been a good one to get us both fired on any other day, but we were done forever in a couple of hours anyway. I saw Sarah talking to her girlfriend, Steph, back in the small kitchen we had for baking various confections. I should have known something was up. I was standing, leaning on the front counter when she came up behind me quietly and slipped a hand around my waist. I grinned as I felt it slide along, following my belt. Her little palm spread out across my already-hard crotch, giving me a gentle squeeze.
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“Can’t we wait until tonight, honey?” I joked.
“Mmmm…no. I don’t want to wait for this,” she whispered. I got a little nervous as I felt her fingers slowly pull down my zipper. Her hand dove into the hole, fishing out my long, hard shaft with a little difficulty. I cleared my throat. “Shhhh…” she whispered, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!” And with that, she easily knelt underneath the counter. Good thing it was a high one. Not quite believing what was happening, I pulled a tall bar stool that was within arm’s reach over closer for me to lean on a bit while she got comfortable kneeling at my feet, looking straight at my cock with hungry eyes.
“Call it a thank you gift,” she said with a wink, stroking my cock lovingly. She carefully freed my balls from my boxers so that my whole tackle was out through my expansive fly. I looked up and tried to look as calm and professional as possible as she went to work on me. She started slow and timid, just like a girl who hasn’t got much experience. (She had told me before that she had never had a cock in her mouth before mine.) Her tiny little pink tongue traced delicate patterns all around my tip and under the little sensitive ridge, making me jump and jerk. I kept my normal groans of appreciation under wraps; we were still in public. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but that was OK. She probably didn’t know enough to look up at me anyway, so I could concentrate on the pleasure only and not the visual.
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