I realized it was a huge mental turn on somehow to switch roles and pretend to be the one sucking the cock. It was a thrill to be like the women I admired so much when I received great oral. I understood, mentally a least, getting pleasure from pleasing. I started more and more fantasizing about sucking a dick again, but this time being able to make it come. I wondered if I ever did get the chance, would I be able to suck a load out? One thing was now apparent, I really wanted to try. I began seeking a potential encounter and met a few guys but realized I'm not really into guys, it was only really about the cock. I wanted it to be at least as big as mine and I loved the idea of the contrast of a black dick as well. It gave me that extra little jolt of excitement, pushing my boundaries a bit more. No doubt about it, I wanted to suck a big, hard black cock and make it come. It had to unfold perfectly or I knew I wouldn't be able to get into my role as a cocksucker. I met a few more. The pace slowed. She’d find herself alone for stretches at a time, resigned to listening to a thinning crowd in the adjacent room laughing about the whore they had created. She liked hearing this talk: she liked to hear that she had been built out of the minds of men - constructed by them and for them.And then, finally, the moans of one last orgasm. A final load deep in her ass. A pat on her cheek.Relative quiet. The crowd was gone. Classical music, once more. The apparition of Jack faded into oblivion. And she herself faded, exhausted, into a deep, contented sleep.____A tickle on her thigh. Her eyelids fluttered open. Blurry vision crystalized, and she could see once more. Her blindfold and duct tape were gone, and bright morning light poured into her mind.The outline of a man. Jack. Sir. Him.“Good morning, beautiful.” He kissed her softly on the cheek.“Good morning, Sir.” She smiled and tried to turn to her side. The straps prevented her; she was still restrained, spread eagle, face.
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