Chapter 1 - Thirty Bennies

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Here’s the thing: I’m hot as fuck. I know it, and—more importantly—so does everyone else. I've got an ass you can bounce quarters off, a tiny waist, and tits that make shopping for bras an absolute nightmare. My cock is thick, and my pelvic floor could juice a grapefruit. People want to fuck me, and honestly? I don’t blame them. Wanting to fuck me is an objectively correct biological response. I scream, “Fantastic lay!” on the genetic level. 

Of course, I’ve put a lot of work into being me, and I expect a return on that investment. It’s an arrangement that people seem to naturally understand. After all, no one approaches a goddess without a proper offering. Usual tributes involve gifts, shopping, favors, lavish dinners, and generally kissing the ground on which I walk. I can’t say that doesn’t work for me, but this was the first time I’d ever considered an offer of more direct compensation.

I should probably back up a little bit. It was the last week of senior year, and I was looking forward to the expanded horizons (and lack of nagging parents) in my post-secondary education. Due to some… we’ll say mild issues with my attendance, I was just turning 20 by this point. Luckily, I tested extremely well, so there wasn’t much impact on my selection of schools. Understand that I’m a ho by choice, not because I lack skills elsewhere. 

I was standing at my locker and answering a few texts while the rabble cleared out. As the hallway emptied, I grabbed my purse from my locker, and turned to leave, almost running into a girl standing behind me. 

“Oh. Hi, Mildred,” I said, with a polite smile. 

“H—i,” she stuttered back. 

She was another senior named Mildred Cheese, and she was just—God, she was weird.
 
I didn’t dislike her. I didn’t even know her, really. She hardly ever talked, and she did weird shit sometimes, but she’d never been shitty or anything (at least not to me.)

She just looked, acted—and smelled—exactly like someone named Mildred Cheese would. She was kind of tall and wore like the same 5 hoodies in rotation every week. They were all way too big on her, and all of them were either white-girl-dreamcatcher affairs or some anime shit. Her hair was wiry and frizzy, probably due to her atrocious home dye jobs that always seemed to leave her hair a faded shade between blue and green. She wore nothing but ankle skirts that must’ve come out of a time capsule buried before women could vote. Oh, and she wore sandals. All the time. I saw her walk in the building with blue toes once because there was a foot of snow outside. 

Like I said, she did weird shit—like quietly stand a few inches behind me, for example. 

“H—hi… Mia,” she said after what felt like an hour.

“Hhheeeey,” 

I tried to keep my smile polite, but she was starting to sketch me out. The weirdo didn’t help things much, though. She just smiled back and kept staring at me, looking a little lost. 

“What’s up?” I finally asked.

“O—oh, I’m sorry… to bother you, um…”—she trailed off for a moment, adjusting her grip on the bag she held to her chest—“a-are you busy this weekend?”

“I’ve got a couple of things planned, but nothing set in stone. Why?”

This is pretty much my prepared response, and it was also a titanic lie. I had at least 4 dates planned before Monday, but the standard rule of ho-ing is that you never shoot someone down before you know what they’re offering. 

Going on a date with me is like an OBO situation; you’re always subject to getting bumped if I get a better offer. Given, it was more of a reflex in this situation. The last thing that I expected from “Mildy Cheese” was an enticing offer. 

“W-would you like to uh… m—movie? I-I have a place… and food!”

I sort of laughed, but I think I managed to mask it as a flirt. I’m not a total bitch; I didn’t gain anything from hurting her feelings.
 
“Are you asking me on a date, Mildred?”

“If you want… y—y’know… I’d like to…” she paused for a moment, “…you can call me Millie.”

“I’m flattered, Millie. I just”—I ran my fingers through my hair, and looked off to the side—“I’m going out of state for school soon, so I don—”

“Oh! Me too,” she interrupted.

“Y-yeah, so… I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

That one was true. I’m not looking for a relationship. It’s not the reason I didn’t want to go on a date with her, though. The reason for that should be obvious.

“O—oh… I understand,” she said.

I was kind of surprised. She was taking it a lot better than I thought she would. Then again, you never know with the quiet, unfortunate-looking types. Maybe she had a Glock under that rank Yuri on Ice hoodie, I don’t know. In the interest of being nice, and avoiding being doxxed, I thought to ask if she wanted to hang out sometime. I didn’t intend to follow through, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“If you’d maybe want to—”

“Just fuck?” 

I looked back at her with genuine surprise. She looked at me like she wanted to be shot in the head. Her face turned so red that her blemishes blended in with the skin around them. I laughed, but I don’t think I pulled off the flirty mask this time. 

I think she meant to ask a little more tactfully, maybe start a little lower and work her way up, but the horny little troll just barfed her horny little guts out in the middle of the hallway. Truthfully, I wasn’t even mad. It had been a long, long time since someone had been honest about wanting to ride one part of me or another from the start.

“I-I’ll pay you…”

That certainly didn’t make the situation any better for her. I steadied myself against the locker, my oxygen-deprived laughter progressing from a loud snicker into a wheeze. Millie looked like she was about to have a stroke. I felt bad, but how was I supposed to react? Ask me out, then ask to be fuck buddies, then move to straight-up solicitation? It was pathetic, but I almost admired her boldness. 

“I—I have… u—um th—three th–th-thousand…”

Karma got the best of me, and I choked on my own spit when I heard that number. I briefly considered that she might be bluffing, but why would she dig herself deeper here? 

“W-what?” I asked, still catching my breath. 

“I—I have three thousand,” she dug through her bag, and held out an envelope, “I can g-get more by F—Friday…”

I cautiously took the envelope, not entirely sure it wasn’t going to give me anthrax or something. It was stuffed with hundred-dollar bills, almost beyond closing. I looked back up at her, utterly perplexed.
 
“H-how did you get this, like—” I started.

“I draw,” she interrupted. “O—online. I—I draw.”

Oh my god. This girl was trying to pay me for sex with yiff money. It was the most on-brand business transaction of her entire life. 

Again, I had to admire her nerve. She had it in cash. Meaning that she knew I was going to shoot her down and had 30 Bennies on deck to change my mind. It was maybe the single ballsiest action I’ve ever seen out of another human being, and you know what? They don’t say fortune favors the bold for nothing. 

Let’s be honest: this girl was one-thousand percent virgin. I figured I’d make her like cum twice, tell her she’s pretty and her vagina isn’t wrong, tastefully avoid the inevitable “I love you” conversation, snuggle up to her while she fell asleep, and bam!  Easiest three grand in the history of ho-dom. 

Then my brain kicked in.

“Wait… how old are you?”

Millie looked like she’d been hoping I wouldn’t ask. I raised an eyebrow.

“I—I’m 18 … today” she finally said.

“I.D.,” I demanded, putting my hand out.

Millie stood there for a second like her brain was lagging or something. Then she dug around in her purse and pulled out her driver’s license. I scanned it over a couple of times. I’ve used my share of fakes, and this one didn’t have any of the telltale signs. Besides, if you were gonna spring for a fake I.D., you wouldn’t go for one that you can’t even buy beer with, right?

“Buying yourself a birthday present, dear Mildred?” I teased, turning the license over a few times, “Trying to shred the V-card before you get to college?”

Millie looked away and started to hide her face, but her eyes caught something that surprised her. Mr. Ivan, the vice-principal, had stepped out of the nearby classroom, apparently taking his time to leave for the day. He looked at both of us, then the envelope in my hand, then the license in the other. He opened his mouth to say something.

“If you don’t want me to call your husband, you’ll shut your mouth, forget you saw this, and get the fuck out of the building, Andrew,” I pulled out my phone, and started flipping through some pictures. He was gone before I even got to anything saucy. 

“Wh— what was that?” Millie asked.

“His husband has a little dick, and he’s a fucking size queen,” I answered, locking my phone and slipping it in my purse. 

“W— why would you call—” her eyes widened in realization, “Oh.”

“So, I’m not saying yes…” I began, flicking through the money again, “but if I did, what would be your plan?”

“W—well… my parents are out of town for the week. T—they leave on Friday morning. Y—you could come that evening, and um… you know…”

“I don’t know, Mildred. You haven’t told me,”
“We could have sex?”

“We could, yes. There are many types of sex. Which of the types are you requesting?”

“W—well, you could fuck me… wherever… and um…” With each passing second, her face turned redder, and her neck seemed to grow shorter. By the time she finally got the last part out, she was slumped so low that her head was almost level with mine, eyes locked on the ground in front of her. “I—I want to—I’d like to give you a blowjob.”

“So, you’re a bottom then?” I smirked.

Millie shifted uncomfortably.

“I—I’d like to try topping, but… I’m a little nervous. I’ve never had…um…sex before,”

“I gathered that,” I giggled derisively, “Are you wanting to try toys, or just uh…?”

“I-I’m actually X2Y… you know… intersex?” she said.

“I know what X2Y means, Mildred.” I scoffed, slipped the money into my purse, and looked back up at her. 

“Alright, here’s the deal. Three grand gets you one night.” 

“Only one…?” She hesitated. 

I reached up to stroke her cheek.

“I promise it’ll be money well spent~” 

She let out a sigh, and her cheek sort of… fell against my hand. I felt a little sorry for her. My girl was touch-starved in a very big way. Feeling generous, I gently guided her back to the locker and pushed my body up against hers. Her eyes started to droop a little when I put my ear to her chest, and she cautiously wrapped an arm around my back.

“I have some rules though…okay?” I asked sweetly.
 
She nodded slowly. It was sort of cheating because she probably would’ve agreed to anything, at that point.

“You pay for the night… so condoms, lube, food, whatever we need. Okay?”

She nodded.

“You get clean and shower up before I get there. I don’t play with stinky bits, so make yourself presentable, yeah? ”

She nodded. I abruptly stopped touching her face and neck, and she opened her eyes to investigate.

“Also, I’m not your fuck-slave. I’ll do the job you’re paying for, but if you start treating me like you own me? I’m out. Understand?”

“O—Of course,” she answered.

I nodded in approval and leaned in a little harder. I put my hand to her head, and gently guided her down, pushing myself up on my tiptoes. I could feel her heartbeat in her face, but I stopped a few inches away from her lips.

“One last thing?” 

“H—huh?”

Why me? hmm?~”

I knew the answer, of course. Read the first paragraph again. I’m god’s gift to sex drives. But I wanted to hear her say it out loud. Her flustered stuttering and crimson cheeks were becoming an acquired taste of mine.

“I think about you all the time…I can’t stop,” she replied.

“Eveeeer~?♪” I teased, inching closer.

A sound not unlike a tea kettle whistling in the distance came out of her dry lips. I passed them, bringing my lips closer to her ear. My other hand meandered down towards her thigh.

“Already practiced saying my name~?” I whispered enticingly. 

Flustered, she opened her mouth to speak, and that’s when I pounced. God, she was so sweaty. I was disappointed that she didn’t cream herself. That’s kind of what I was going for. I think she nearly fainted when I rubbed the tip of my tongue around hers, though.

After a few seconds, I pulled back and gave her another pat on the cheek. 

“See you Friday, Mildy,”

Millie didn’t respond, still slumped against the locker. I have that effect on people. 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

I stepped out of my uber, scrolling through my phone and ignoring the driver’s flirty goodbye. I slipped my overnight ho-ing bag over my shoulder and texted Millie while I walked to the door. She opened it just as I started typing. 

God, she was such a simp. 

She waved excitedly. I nodded, looking back at my phone. Once I got inside, she shut and locked the door.
 
“Thank you for coming,” she began, “can I get you anything to eat? O—or drink?”

I ignored her for a bit, taking my sunglasses off to look around the house. Her place was pretty nice. Tiled entryway, huge living room, huge kitchen, a pretty intricate spiral staircase—it wasn’t a mansion, by any means, but her family obviously wasn’t hurting for money.

“Water would be nice, thanks.” I slipped my sunglasses back on and pushed my sable tresses over the frames. Dismissively, I held my bag out. “Can you put this somewhere?”

“O—of course. I’ll be right back,” she said, taking the bag and hurrying off somewhere. 

As I meandered into the living room, I took in a bit more of the scenery. Black leather sofa, white fluffy carpet, bookshelf, TV, family pictures—I stopped at some of those, confused and laughing quietly to myself.
 
Millie’s dad could’ve been Captain America’s stunt double. Big green eyes, clear skin, excellent grooming,  gorgeous smile, biceps that could pop my head off like a champagne cork—let’s just say he was wearing cargo shorts, a popped collar, and socks with sandals in one of the pictures, and I’d probably still hit it. If I’m a 10, he would be like a 7½—maybe even an 8. 

In contrast, Millie’s mom… let’s just say that Millie suddenly made perfect sense. The gaudy glasses, the frizzy hair, the terrible dye jobs— if you took every mean thing I said about Mildred so far and tripled it, you would get an accurate approximation of her mom. 

I seated myself on the couch, still giggling a bit. Fishing through my purse, I pulled out a little tin and dumped a few pieces of gum into my hand. I tossed them into my mouth and chewed until my cheeks had a pleasant, minty tingle. You always want to make sure your breath is fresh before the ho-ing commences.
 
“I put your bag in my bedroom,” Millie began, then seemed to second guess herself, “but I can move it to the guest room if you like.”

“Whatever. As long as you don’t wet the bed or anything,” I coldly droned back.

Millie laughed nervously, shaking her head. “Nope… I also laundered the bedding this morning, so…”

“Good girl,” I complimented, still not looking up, “sleeping in virgin fap sweat doesn’t agree with my skin.”

“Y—you look beautiful…” She didn’t say it, so much as the words just fell out of her mouth. She didn’t even acknowledge the previous jab at her expense.

A suppressed, cocky smile spread across my face when I looked up. She was right, but I also put the bare minimum of effort into getting ready that morning. I hadn’t even shaved downstairs in a few days. My hair was still a bit damp at the roots, and I hadn’t done my makeup beyond a little foundation, mascara, and powder. I just had a white T-shirt, and a bluish, plaid skirt, plus my sneakers and stockings. It was a cute outfit, sure, but not one you’d get complimented in unless you were hot already.

To her credit, she looked like a solid 4½ now, which was about as much improvement as you could expect in a week. Her skin had cleared up a bit, her hair had a little more volume (and less frizz), and she’d swapped out one of those giant, gross hoodies for a giant, gross T-shirt. I figured I’d take what I could get.

“I know, but thanks. You’re looking more human yourself, good job.” I put my shoe on the coffee table and pushed it away from the couch. With a disinterested look, I gestured to Millie, and then to the space that I’d cleared in front of me.

Millie hesitated for just a second, then quickly moved into position, and kneeled as directed.

“Just keep your teeth off it, okay?” I scoffed, uncrossing my legs.

“Um…”

“Lost your nerve, spode?” I asked, looking back at my phone.
 
“N—no, I want to, um… c—could I… kiss you… first?” 

“Ugh, no. I don’t want your weird funyun breath in my face again.” I grimaced, with a mocking gag.

I didn’t look up, but I could see her shoulders slump a little.

“I—I’m sorry if I had bad breath on Monday, but um…that was after a whole day… and I wasn’t expecting… you know…” she stammered around my refusal for a moment, “…I brushed right before you got here…”

I rolled my eyes and laid my phone at my side. She smiled, both nervous and expecting. 

“Open your mouth,” I ordered, “Tongue out.”

The look in her eyes showed hesitation that her body did not, as she immediately complied. I leaned forward, pinched her tongue between my finger and thumb, and spit my gum into her mouth.

“Chew that for a minute, and I’ll think about it,” I smirked, picking my phone up and leaning back. 

When I heard her start chewing, I couldn’t resist. I turned my back camera on to sneak a look but didn’t get what I expected. She wasn’t just chewing it—she was savoring it. Packing it into both cheeks, swishing it around her gumline, smashing it under her tongue and against the roof of her mouth—either she and spearmint had a history, or Millie was a bit more of a freak than I expected. 

I hit record as I felt the warmth of blood rushing south, and the accompanying symptoms start to surface: a squishy, moist feeling down low, and the steadily increasing tightness of fabric just above. I quickly crossed my legs again, and luckily she didn’t open her eyes. It was like she was in a trance, sucking my spit out of a chewed up wad of gum. She looked almost euphoric. 

I felt blood rush north to my face soon after, once I realized I’d been watching her chew gum for almost five minutes. I had gotten a little lost in it myself, squeezing my crossed thighs to get some stimulation. 
Look, I’m kind of a whore, but I’m definitely a slut. I like people telling me that I’m hot and great at sex. I take it further than a lot of people, but that’s because I’m hotter and better at sex than most people. You do what you can get away with, and I can get away with quite a lot. If you don’t like that, you either have the opposite kink, or you’re lying. 

I knew I could get away with spitting in her mouth, because she’s a desperate virgin, and I’m… well, I’m me. I got off on that. Does it make me a bad person? Yeah, and I’ve accepted that because I have better orgasms than you. Cumming hard enough will really change your perspective on a whole lot of things, actually.

To see her swish a minty spit-sponge around her mouth like it was soaked in fine wine? That hit a button for me; one I didn’t really know I had before. I almost came just watching and humping my own thighs. If it wasn’t for the embarrassment of having to explain to Millie why I had a spontaneous orgasm not watching her chew gum, I probably would have. 

“A-alright, Mildred. Make it quick,” I announced, “if that gum touches my mouth, I’m gonna be pissed. Got it?”

“Thank you!” Millie bubbled up and climbed up next to me on the couch. Even with my threat, she seemed hesitant to spit the gum out and packed it away in her cheek or something. 

I leaned my head over the back of the couch. Millie stood on her knees and leaned down over me. 

Objectively, I’m going to say that she was awful at kissing. She’d obviously never done it before, and she was more interested in sticking her tongue as far into my mouth as possible than actually doing anything with it. The girl licked my molars at one point. What kind of freak does that? 

I’m also going to tell you that I was dripping onto her parent’s couch after she was done. Why? Because she treated that kiss like it was a fucking heist. She kissed me like she was never going to kiss me again; like she wanted to burn my taste straight into her forever memories. I wasn’t a partner in that kiss, I was a venue; a vault full of loot carelessly left unguarded, and she grabbed everything she could carry.
 
I should mention, I’m a bit of a narcissist. I think that might have some relevance to the story. Because now, once the moment of hedonistic enjoyment at a virgin loser’s expense is over, I have to reconcile with the fact that the loser virgin almost made me cream myself with a terrible kiss. Gradually, my pride and shame overtook enjoyment as she pulled away. 

I managed to put on my bored mask before she opened her eyes, but it felt unusually shaky. Looking at her blissful face—like the face she made chewing the gum turned up to 11—it was growing increasingly difficult to feign disinterest.

That only fed my frustration. I was not getting turned on by this ugly little gremlin. I was turned on because she was so pathetic and malleable to me. I was turned on by her acknowledgment of my superiority. She’d be schlicking and fapping her little nerd brains out to this memory for the rest of her life. 

“God, you suck at this…” I grimaced, rolling my eyes, “I hope your mouth is at least good for sucking dick, Mildy. ‘Cause like… clearly it’s not great for talking or kissing…”

“Th—th-thank you for the kiss… sorry it was bad. I—It’s my first time…” she explained, climbing back down to her prepared place on the floor. 

“I could tell…” I scoffed and sat up a little straighter. 

I hoped I’d bought enough time with my performative bitchiness that my arousal wouldn’t show. Nope. I uncrossed my legs, and my wood put an unmistakable tent in my skirt. It’s the one time I envy XX girls. If they play it cool enough, they can more or less hide getting turned on until someone actually pets the kitty. Most of the time, at least. Not an option for me.

Millie gasped softly, staring for a moment or two.
 
“Y—you’re already hard?” she asked, an accomplished smile spreading across her face.

“I haven’t had a good blowie in a while, so I’m a little excited.” I huffed. I was trying to knock her back down a peg, but it didn’t seem to work. “Don’t disappoint me too much.”

“I’ll do my best!” She beamed.

“And don’t go poking your nasty fingernails inside anything, got it?”

Millie smiled, lifted my skirt, and softly flipped it back; completely entranced.  

Her eyes lit up. My panties were doing a poor job of containment, and my cock was stretching them in an enticingly obscene way. Millie’s eyes went a little wide as she released it from confinement, and gave it a few, tentative strokes.

“It’s—so b-“—I smiled, knowing exactly what she was going to say, but anticipating it all the same—“beautiful.”

That… wasn’t what I expected. Nice, I guess, but unexpected. Not to brag, but like I said up top: I’ve got a fat cock. Like, a tallboy knob. 6 inches long, and a liiiiiitle under 9 around. Not too long to go all the way in, but more than thick enough to really stretch ‘em out. Just like everything else about me—perfect. 

(Actually? Bragging a little. Not sorry.)

I was kind of expecting the usual, “are you sure this thing is for humans?” line. But beautiful? That was…new.

I didn’t have much time to think about it, because once she put it in her mouth, my brain kind of shut off for a bit. Another surprise—she was pretty good. I exhaled softly as warmth enveloped the tip, and I sank back into the couch. She must have practiced, which made sense. Giving me a blowjob was the one thing she had been specific about wanting to do.

It was the kind of head you could fall asleep to— in a good way, though. That ASMR succ. Millie’s frizzy hair sweetly tickled my thighs as she moved up and down. A curled tongue waved back and forth ever so slightly, lips applying the gentlest suction. The sounds of suckling, humming, and an occasional moan tied it all together in a perfect rhythm; a sweet symphony that drowned my senses.

Truthfully, there was a big part of me that just wanted to let her work it. I wasn’t exactly lying when I said it had been a while since I’d gotten any good head. Most people’s jaws cramp up just getting around the thing. You try getting a coke can into your mouth without letting it touch your teeth. It’s harder than you would think. (Or maybe not, that doesn’t exactly sound easy now that I write it out.)

Unfortunately, I was too petty not to attempt sabotage. Remembering that I was—in fact—being paid for this by a loser who couldn’t get any otherwise, I slowly slipped my legs over her shoulders and crossed one over the other. My off-hand crept slowly towards my crossed leg, eager to spring my little trap, and force her down.

I didn’t get the chance though. Millie’s eyes darted over to my hand, and she said something like, “Oowykeepfohf?”

Caught red-handed, I mumbled back, “Huh?”

Millie tried again, but the results weren’t any better. On the third try, she pulled her lips off my meat and said, “Would you like a deepthroat, Mia?”

Now I was curious and aroused in equal measure. Her head game couldn’t be that strong, could it? What kind of maniac practices deep throating before they've ever had sex? Her kinks so far were a neon sign that said, “I have low self-esteem.” She asked me if I wanted “a deepthroat”. She had anime sweatshirts for fuck’s sake.

I decided to call the bluff.

“Well…I wouldn’t be opposed.” Tossing my hair behind my shoulder, I scooted up to the edge of the couch, and helpfully pulled her hair back. “Just don’t barf on me, okay?”

This is why I don't gamble. Millie smiled, put her lips back on it, and fucking swallowed me whole. 

“Oh fuck—” 

I locked my thighs around her head to stop her from coming back up. I was worried she’d make me bust in seconds if I let her throat it at her own pace, especially when I was this turned on. She didn’t seem to mind and kept working her tongue and throat despite her restraint. I managed to hold it together, but that was getting more difficult by the second. 

“H-holy shit, aren’t you a virgin?”

Millie nodded, with a nonchalant, “Mhm.”

“H-have you ever given head before?” 

She shook her head. 

“Well, I hope you’re getting your money’s worth choking on it,” I taunted.

She broke her gaze from mine and looked off to the side. It’s always cute when someone gets embarrassed by something you say after they’ve been sucking you off for a few minutes already. 

I laughed, but the reality was that she wasn’t choking. Not even a gag or cough so far, and she’d been throating it for almost a minute. I rolled my hips around and squished her nose against the prickly regrowth of my pubic hair, but she still didn’t flinch. In fact, she moaned. I started to get pissed. Little slag thinks she’s hot shit? I had to teach her a lesson.

“Alright, you thirsty simp … I’d normally charge you extra for this, but since you haven’t been completely worthless”—I unclenched my thighs and jumped to my feet—“I’m gonna take the reins from here.”

I grabbed two handfuls of her greasy hair, yanked my dripping dick out of her mouth, and slammed it back in. I paused, then did it again. And again. And again. 

After I got into a nice rhythm, I saw her hands come up out of the corner of my eye. I sneered, expecting to feel them pushing on my thighs and to hear a gag reach my ears. I gasped a little when she started softly caressing me instead; my round ass with one hand, and my swollen sack with the other. 

Frustrated at her apparent competence, I put one of my shoes on the couch, and used the leverage to put a little more hip into my thrusts. She was still moaning, her stupid, blemished face twisting in ecstasy.
 
“Are you actually doing an ahegao face, you fucking weeb!?” I growled, slapping her face against my pubic bone. “G-god… y—— such a fuck—mbarrassment.”

I leaned my body forward and pulled her face down into my crotch as hard as I could. I’m surprised it didn’t give her a fat lip, but I shouldn’t be—her thin little lips probably don’t have enough meat to swell, and her giant buck teeth were big enough to chew lumber. 

…

I’d never cum that hard in my life. 

…

I’m glad I had her face buried so she couldn’t see mine. I managed to growl something nasty instead of moaning, but that was only because my shame and disgust barely overpowered my pleasure. The one hope I had left was that she would choke on my load, and it’d come out her nose or something. Nope. I came even harder when the audible glug-glug-glug of her carefully paced guzzling was accompanied only by her hums of delight. That just twisted the knife.

I kept her pressed against me long after she’d squeezed the final drops from my shaft, trying to steady my wobbly knees. Eventually, I pulled back and loosened my grip on her frizzy mop. Her lips shined with drool, which strung from my cock as she pulled away. Her cheap, clown-red, mom lipstick was smudged all around, including a particularly heavy transfer around my base. She looked up at me with her tongue out, showing off her completely empty mouth. 

“I think I swallowed your gum…” she mumbled, her tongue still hanging out.

I slumped back on the couch and tried to catch my breath. She scooted forward, and rested her cheek on my lap, sighing with contentment. The bitter and petty part of me tried to think of something snide to say, but her negative qualities were strangely hard to place all of the sudden—like she’d sucked the wickedness from my soul. I laid my head back and started to drift, absent-mindedly running my fingers through her hair.

…

“Would you like something to eat or drink while you rest up?”

While I rest up? I fucked her face like a jackhammer, and she asked if I needed some rest? That brought a few negative qualities back to mind.

“Look, I’m just resting for your benefit. When you want me to stuff another hole, you just let me know,” I said. 

“O—oh, I should’ve known. I’m ready now,” she apologized.

Truth be told, that was something of a lie, but I couldn’t let her know that.

“Then get me hard and put the condom on, already. If you want me to blow your back out, the least you could do is take care of the prep work. God…”

“Oh! Of course! I’m sorry, I’ll go get some…”

I pulled out my phone while she ran off. She came back with a Nightmare Before Christmas bag (of-fucking-course) which was filled with a frankly hilarious number of smaller drawstring bags, all of which were labeled. Why the fuck did she have so many? 

“S-sorry. I didn’t know if you had a preference, or what size you were…” Dork-ass set the sack full of neatly sorted raincoats on the coffee table. “…so I just bought a bunch.”

“Kinda doesn’t matter. Rubbers are always tight on me, but thanks for trying, I guess,” I said, dismissively.

Millie picked a larger one from one of the bags, grabbed a little bottle of lube from the side pocket, and knelt between my lazily spread knees. 

“I’m sorry you have to wear one. My parents would freak out if I was on birth control,” she explained.

“What would they do if they caught you getting face-fucked on their couch?” I sneered.

“You don’t need birth control for that…”

She delivered it deadpan, but I think she was trying to be funny. I thought it was funny, at least. I’m not sure though, because I didn’t look up from my phone. I tried to tell myself it was because I didn’t care, but I was honestly worried that the anticipation of feeling her mouth on my dick again would show in my face. Or the shame that came along with it. 

God. I could never play truth or dare again. I’d have to spend the whole game doing dares. I’d be terrified at the possibility of being forced to tell a room full of people that the best head I ever got was from Mildy-fucking-Cheese. And it wasn’t even close. 

A more intimate sigh of pleasure escaped me when I felt her lips this time, and my cheeks started to burn. I flipped my skirt down over her head to make sure she wouldn’t see. I kind of like that look anyway, so it was a win-win. She didn’t react in the slightest.

It didn’t take long for me to get hard once she started, but it felt so good that I considered asking her not to stop—Immediately kicked myself for that. 

She gently stroked a dollop of lube on my shaft and put a few drops in the condom before she rolled it down. It was a little tight around my wide base, but her careful prep paid off. As she applied the lube to the outside, the friction of her strokes made my breath catch. 

“All done, Miss Kamiya!” She gave a small bow like she was in a maid cafe or something. 

“Took you fucking long enough…” I groaned, cringing a little.

As I started to stand up, she jumped back out of my way and stood patiently, albeit with an eager bounce. Guiding her by the shoulder, I brought her to the arm of the couch and bent her over it. I rolled my eyes and pulled her granny skirt to her ankles. I raised my eyebrows a little. Where I expected to find some hand-me-down panties to match her period-accurate suffragette skirt, there were instead a pair of spats— like, compression shorts.

After a few seconds, she looked cautiously over her shoulder and asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Did you piss yourself or something?” I poked her weird choice of undergarment, which squished and briefly stuck to her skin—very damp. 

“S-sorry… um… I…”

“Spit it out, drippy. I don’t do pee stuff,” I exhaled, frustrated and impatient.

“Nono… I just… I get really wet, especially when I’m trying to keep my cock soft. It’s not anything gross…”

“Speak for yourself…” I grimaced briefly, but was immediately distracted by my next thought, “…why are you trying to keep your cock soft while you’re fucking, you weirdo?”

“It just gets in the way… and things get a little messy,” 

“This ain’t messy to you?”

“I-It usually doesn’t get that bad, but I um… I really liked going down on you. Sorry,” 

I couldn’t help but smile a little at that. ‘That’s right, bitch. At least you know a perfect 10 when you see one,’ I thought to myself.

“You got this wet and kept your dick soft? Bullshit,” I laughed, shaking my head.

“It’s true, though!” she protested, pushing herself up to look back at me, “I’ve just had a lot of practice.”

“Look, I’m sure you have tons of practice with soft dick, sweetie, but I’m not touching those…” I scowled, leaning away, “pull 'em down, and show me what I’m gonna be working with. If I don’t feel too barfy after, maaaaybe I’ll touch it.”

Millie looked a little miffed but listened. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband, dropped them down around her thighs, and leaned back over the arm for my inspection.

My eyebrows and jaw both dropped a little bit in surprise. Millie’s cock, tucked between her legs, slowly parted from her slick cunt as she bent over. It made a sound like a post-it peeling off the wall, and her juices strung between the X and Y bits as they parted. I grabbed it almost reflexively, which made her squeal and shiver. 

I ran my other hand along her pussy, still in disbelief. Millie buried her face in one of the couch cushions to muffle herself as she drooled a few drops of clear, viscous liquid from both her genitalia. 

She was telling the truth, though. Her pussy was slavering, but her cock was completely soft… and bigger than I expected. Like… as long as mine was when it was hard, though not even half as thick. Aside from being extra squishy, she was pretty much clean. No discharge, and no offensive odor or anything.  

“D-do you want me to go wash up?” She hesitated.

“No, I believe you,” I laughed, somewhat enjoying the feedback I got from teasing her. 

She groaned, squealed, and gasped as I played, pinpointing her sweet spots, and avoiding spending too much time on them. I was a bit fascinated at how much she leaked without getting hard. I don’t know how long I prodded and stroked, but she finally spoke up.

“Mia—Miss Kamiya, I mean… c-can we move this somewhere else?”

“Oh? Not enjoying yourself, Mildred?”

“No, that’s— aaahh—not the problem. I—If we make a mess on this couch, my parents are going to know…”

“If we make a mess, dear?”
“If I make a mess… s-sorry…”

“Oh, what are you worried about? You haven’t even gotten hard yet. You take pills for this or something?” I taunted, sliding a hand up to grope her ass. 

“N-No… I—It’s just starting to ache… I don’t think I can keep it soft for much longer if you…”

“Aww, little Millie’s balls getting blue? Well, wherever they are… nothing swinging down here. Just a slimy little pussy, and a big floppy cock.”

“P-please, Miss Kamiya… I can’t take it anymore…”

“Aww… don’t you want me to fuck your little pussy?”

“YES—u-um… I mean… yes… I ju-“

“If I lose this wood dealing with your bullshit, I’m not waiting for you to put the rubber on again, and I’m not barebacking you either.”

“I want it. I’m sorry, Mia. Please fuck me,”

I was getting a little more into it now that the freak had remembered her place. I leaned over and whispered, “If you can hold it in until I’m done with your nasty little slit, I’ll let you put that pencil dick inside me.”

Millie’s eyes lit up, and she looked over her shoulder. 

“I—inside?”

“Whichever hole you want, Millie. Both of ‘em, even… if you can still get it up, of course,”

Her eyes lit up as she nodded.

“O-okay…”
I stood back up, and licked my lips in anticipation, running my throbbing cock up and down her pussy. I’d been talking a lot of shit, but despite the rest of her hideous form, she was pretty appealing from the waist down.

“W-will it hurt?”

I stopped and looked back up at her. 

“I-I can take it, but… um… am I going to tear? … I-I’ll be quiet, sorry…”

I had stopped because her whining reminded me of my first time. Spoiler: it hurt. It burned like hell, I bled a lot, and the guy fucking me didn’t seem to notice or care. I tried to fake moans while I was holding back tears, and I acted like everything was fine afterward because he said I was good. Sure, I’m a bitch now, but I was a scared virgin once too. I felt just a hint of warmth in my black, frozen heart.  

“I’ll go easy at first. Tell me if something doesn’t feel right,” I said.

“N-no, I can take it. J-just do it however—“

I grabbed a handful of hair and hissed into her ear. 
 
“I wasn’t asking. You will tell me if it hurts. You understand?”

“Y-yesImsorryIwillIpromise.”

I let go of her hair and gently patted her head.

“Good girl. Now relax…have you ever put anything here before?”

“N-no, I tried with my fingers a few times, but it just felt weird…” 

“Fingering is only fun with friends, don’t you know that?” I laughed.

“Please put it in…”

I lined up my shot and gave it a tiny push. It slid in past my head with almost no resistance. Her breath caught in her throat, and she started to squirm.
“You okay?”

“O-oh my god, you’re huge… oh fuck…”

“Does it h—” I began.

“J-just… really intense…please don’t stop”

When I pushed forward a little more, she threw her ass back and completely buried me inside. She made a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream. I’m not completely sure, because I made a similar sound as her pussy clamped down, and her spasming squeezed me from every side.

I started to ask if she was okay but before I got a word out, she moaned, “Fuck me, please.” 

I happily obliged. I beat that gangly little nerd’s pussy half to death. Do you know why?

…

Because it was amazing…

…

and that pissed me off so much. 

She asked if she’d tear? She was so wet that I could’ve started with my fist. Her pussy stuttered like her nasally dweeb voice, spasming irregularly and squeezing me every time I moved. 

I couldn’t stop my moans anymore. I screamed in my throat, dug my fingers into her hips, and smashed that peach into jelly. If you could hear the sound it made over our moaning, you might think I was being literal. Her juices were splashing as we collided, our thighs were coated with runoff, and every once in a while it would squirt out as our hips slapped together. This was the pussy Ben Shapiro has nightmares about. 

“O-Oh my god I’m gonna cum… Mia, I’m gonna cum please don’t stop…”

She didn’t have to worry about that. I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. Millie stuffed her face back in the pillow. I think she could’ve shattered glass with that scream. The geek’s legs were shaking so bad that she probably would have fallen off the couch entirely if my fingers weren’t white-knuckled around her skinny ass. 

Once she started to cum and clamped down again, it was over. Not that I didn’t keep fighting it, but I felt like the little pig in the straw house at that point. Her pussy ripped every last drop out of me, and my level of compliance was a non-factor in the equation. By the time I managed to pull myself out, the condom looked like a small water balloon. It sloshed out with a small tug, the outside coated in her moisture.
 
Millie cooed in delight, her sweaty, reddened face resting softly on the cushion in blissful exhaustion. I squeezed her ass and gave her a quick slap across it. She squealed in delight but seemed too exhausted to do much else. Little did she know that I was only holding onto her ass because I wasn’t sure my legs were going to handle my weight on their own. I chanced it to take a step back, and survey the scene. As my eyes wandered further down, they nearly bugged out of my head. I stuttered out a reflexive, “Holy shit!”

“W-what?” she hesitated, still resting her head on the couch.

“N-nothing, just… just a bit of a mess…” I lied. 

I didn’t want to say it. My cheeks burned red, with equal parts embarrassment and frustration as I started at the twitching monster between her knees. And I do mean between her knees literally. Mildy had a fucking cannon downstairs. I stared for a few more seconds, trying to keep my face neutral, walked over to the couch, and sat down. God, I actually crossed my legs like I could hide it at this point.

“Th—that’s okay…W—wwwwas it… good for you?”

“Pretty good. Like, for a virgin, at least. What about you?”

“I’ve never cum like that before… I feel all squishy and tingly… y-you’re so good…” she gushed, her eyes lighting up when I looked down at her. 

“I know. When you get your land legs back, would you get me something to drink? I worked up a sweat laying that pipe,” 

She popped off the arm of the couch, and back to her feet with surprising enthusiasm. 

“O-of course. I’ll be right back. Do you want water, or… I think we have some sodas and sparkling—”

“Just water’s fine, thanks,”

She turned to walk away, and I found myself staring at her deflating half-chub as soon as she wasn’t looking. I turned back to my phone and scrolled aimlessly, fuming. 

Look, I’m not really familiar with inadequacy, because I’m the fucking best, alright? If you forgot, go read the first paragraph again. 

I think you probably guessed, but I’m a bit of a size queen when it comes to my “assets”, and that little dweeb’s uncut donkey fuck-log mortified me. 

How many times had she overheard me bragging in the halls, and just snickered to herself? I almost lost it thinking back to her calling mine “beautiful” earlier. Was this little bitch making fun of me!? “Beautiful!?” Yeah, and you have an “interesting” nose, you fucking harpie. Fuck you.

…

But you know what made it so much worse?

Every time I thought about it, it heated me up. My cock bounced, and my pussy got a familiar itch I couldn’t quite scratch. I tried to put it out of my mind, but my body wouldn’t allow it. I was randy for the disgusting little goblin’s freakish moose cock, and it hit me like a recursive script loop. The hornier I got, the more embarrassed I got. The more embarrassed I got, the hornier I got. 

I could find ways to make myself feel better about the earlier stuff. Of course, I liked her treating my spit like liquid gold. Of course, I liked her worshipping my cock with her mouth. Of course, I liked slamming her drooling pussy. I could make those about me. I liked them because she knew what the score was. Whatever bullshit I came up with, it was all about me stooping to grant favor to an unworthy, wretched mortal because their offering pleased me. 

Her head game? Amazing, but I’m perfect. Pussy? She’s top 10%, but I’m top 1. No contest. 

I couldn’t do that with this. I told myself that it was too big. That’s probably why she had to pay me. It was useless. If some crazy ho wanted something that big, they’d just buy two fisting gloves instead of one. It was uncut too, so “Mildy Cheese” was probably a more appropriate nickname than I thought. Ugh, so gross.

… 

That was the problem, though. I wanted it. I was the crazy ho. It was the first time in years that I had wanted something sexually other than food for my ever-growing ego. I felt like a grade-schooler that had just discovered crushes. I was angry that I couldn’t get it out of my mind. How dare she put butterflies in my stomach? I did my time already, you little creep!

…

No.

I am Mia Marie Kamiya.

I do not swoon. I do not pine. I do not humor this slow-burn bullshit. It is beneath me. I tell the pissants what I want, and they fall over themselves to give it to me. Millie played the secret chord, and the Goddess was pleased. She saw that it was good, and wished to partake. 

I stood up, took a breath, and prowled towards the kitchen. 

I was going to get that dick, and little Millie was going to revel in the privilege of serving me.


