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Daddy, Teach Me to Suck.
"Daddy, would you please teach me how to give a blow jobs?"
Had my daughter really asked me to teach her to suck cock or was my over-sexed imagination playing tricks on me? Hoping for the best, I asked her to repeat herself.
"Daddy, I want to learn how to give blow jobs. Will you teach me, please?"
It was hard to believe that my beautiful eighteen-year-old daughter Julie, a freshman in college, did not know how to perform fellatio. My ex-wife and I had encouraged her to remain a virgin until the right man came along, but I never held out much hope that she would do it. I wanted her to keep her hymen intact, but it wasn't realistic to expect her not to use her mouth. If you could have seen her, you would understand why I was skeptical. She was the sexiest number in town with her centerfold tits and a candy ass that you could eat with a spoon. I confess that I had my share of sexual fantasies about her, especially after my wife and I broke up and I was left without an outlet for my excessive sexual energy.
"Julie, are you telling me that you have never performed oral sex on a guy?"
Her angelic face turned crimson with embarrassment. "I never have, Daddy. I've never done anything with guys. You and Mom said I shouldn't, so I didn't. I wanted to plenty of times. I got so horny that I could hardly stand it, but Mom taught me a way to take care of myself."
"Have you ever used your hand on a guy?" She shook her head. My heart was racing with excitement. My beautiful young daughter, seemingly a total virgin, was asking me to rid her of at least some of that virginity. My wildest fantasies had not prepared me for this.
"Why don't you let Bob teach you?" As soon as the words were out of my mouth I wanted them back. Why was I trying to talk her out of it? I should have been ordering her onto her knees instead of suggesting that she give her boyfriend the pleasure of being first.
"Bob and I have been dating for more than a year, and we've never gone beyond kissing. He told me that if he doesn't get at least a blow jobs from me very soon, he'll find someone who will. I'm afraid I won't do it right. I want it to be perfect."
"Alright, Honey. I'll teach you." I decided to start with the basics. "Have you ever seen an ejaculation?" I asked. She shook her pretty head again. By then my hard-on was too prominent to conceal. My mind was racing as I tried to come up with a plan. I had a fine collection of pornography and was especially proud of the videos that covered virtually every aspect of human sexuality. They had given me hundreds of hours of masturbatory pleasure and now they would be useful as training aids.
I led Julie to the livingroom and turned on the big-screen TV. I selected a video entitled "A Thousand-and-One cum shots" and pushed it into the VCR. I sat next to her on the couch and took her hand in mine.
"Before you put your mouth on a man's penis, you must know what to expect. What you are going to see now are ejaculations, but in the porno industry they are called cum shots. I don't really understand why, but men love to watch other men cum."
I pressed the play button on the remote and a pretty porno queen appeared on the screen. A man stood next to her jacking his cock. His spunk shot out and splattered her grimacing face. Spurt after spurt gushed out until the slut's face was as glazed as a doughnut.
"That's called a facial," I explained.
"Oh, my God, Daddy. It's so yukky. Have you ever done that nasty thing?"
"Your mother believed that semen was good for her skin. She had a beautiful complexion. You figure it out."
Our breathing quickened and deepened as we watched men shoot their loads on faces, tits, bellies and asses.
"Why do they always pull their penises out, Daddy?"
"That's the way it has always been in porno, Pumpkin. The first time a man fucked in front of a camera, he pulled out at the end and shot off on the woman. It's like a period - no, an exclamation mark - at the end of a sentence. In real life, men usually don't pull out, except to prevent impregnation. It's a very unreliable method, so don't even think about doing it."
After watching a hundred or so cum shots, I replaced the tape with a blow jobs tape. "This will teach you some of the basics of sucking cock, Honey." Her blue eyes widened as the image of a woman with a fat cock in her mouth came on the screen.
"Notice how she is moving her head, Pumpkin. Forward and back and from side-to-side. Notice how she tilts her head to the left when she goes forward and to the right when she pulls back. See her drooling? She has so much spit in her mouth that she can't hold it all in. Wetness is the key to a great blow jobs. Your mother used to think about caviar when she was sucking cock because it made her salivate. She had expensive tastes. Variety is also extremely important. Every suck should be different from every other suck. Do you see how her cheeks cave in every so often when she gives it a really hard suck?"
We watched quietly for awhile. Sitting beside her and watching the look on her face as she was exposed to pornography for the first time was an incredible thrill. Then I noticed signs of arousal. Tiny beads of sweat popped out on her forehead. She licked her lips incessantly. Two prominent bumps appeared on her chest as her nipples hardened.
"They always pull their cocks out and blow their loads in the girls' faces, but that is mostly for the entertainment of the viewers. In real life, most guys leave their cocks in. It feels good to give a facial, but it feels a lot better to shoot off in the mouth. It's my favorite way to cum."
"You mean I have to take that yukky stuff in my mouth, Daddy? It must taste horrible."
"Yes, you have to take it in your mouth and, not only that, you have to swallow it. Never spit it out. Always wait until he's finished before swallowing. Let your mouth fill up and then take it down in one hard gulp. And it doesn't taste horrible, it has hardly any taste at all. And don't expect any warning. Most men won't give a warning because they are afraid the woman will stop."
By the time I had watched one hundred cum shots and an equal number of blow jobs, I was ready for anything. "Well, shall we get started, Julie?" I pulled my pants down around my knees and exposed myself to my innocent daughter for the first time...

What's in a Cum Shot?
"No, no, it's true. It says right here 'Cum Sucker: four ounces Jack Daniels, four ounces Southern Cumfort, four ounces Morgan, and, for ladies, four ounces of sperm,'" read Stephen from a bartender's website.
"Come on. No bar in the world is going to actually offer a drink like that. Or if they do, they're certainly not going to make one," my old buddy Harvey countered in his commonsensical manner.
"But all the others just list standard ingredients," Stephen continued. "Let's see there are two different recipes for a Cum Shot. There's the Cum Dumpster, Cum In A Tub, Cumstain, Blowjob, Cumlips, oh, and the Cockteaser. One more: Cumshot In The Eye. Ooh, that's gotta hurt."
"What's in a Cum Shot?" someone asked.
Laughter all around mixed with one "You oughta know" and one mean spirited "He knows when he tastes it."
Once they quieted down Stephen went on reading from his laptop's browser.
"One part butterscotch schnapps and one part Bailey's Irish Cream. Top with whipped cream," he said, emphasizing the final word with a glance in my direction, raised eyebrows and a smile.
"I'd be surprised if any place even listed these drinks," Harvey added.
Big Mike our intolerable host, again waking from his drunken stupor, threw in his two cents, "I'll bet Lisa's never had a real Cum Shot."
The rest of us just ignored the obnoxious prick, hoping the alcohol he'd consumed would finally shut him up for the night. Actually, had any one of the others said this it would have been a turn-on - or a dare. With Big Mike it just sounded vulgar.
The nine of us had finished a two-day sales conference at 7:30 on a Friday night - too late to catch any flights out until the morning. We'd met at the hotel restaurant for dinner, then moved to the bar for a little postprandial conversation and a lot of alcohol. It had been a rough conference with the national marketing director chewing us out for not achieving our quarterly sales targets. Everyone deserved some unwind time.
As is typical with this group and something for which I've never stopped thanking my lucky stars, I was the sole woman. Remember learning about potential and kinetic energy in high school science class? Every three months we were the potential energy equivalent of a gangbang. Nine men and me. Though it had never happened there was always the playful, sexy, excitement in the air. I, for one, could feel it - at the least I could fantasize about it.
Heaven. Almost. There was always Big Mike. Probably not too bad a guy when he'd lay off the sauce. Since we'd never seen him in the "off" condition, he was what could only be characterized as described above: an obnoxious prick. I'm generally not one to call people names, but if there were a dictionary entry for "obnoxious prick" you'd see Big Mike's mug! Never a nice word. Never a team player. Always nasty and negative. Always exhausting and egocentric.
Yet, somehow since the meeting was held this quarter in his town and the restaurant kicked us out at 9:00, we'd left the bar and taken two rental cars plus Big Mike's battleship back to his house.
"Judy tells me it's classy. It's twill or toile or 'twat' or something," Big Mike had explained, leering at me with his crude shot at a rude pun. "To me a chair's a chair. It's where I put my butt. All I know is that it's expensive. Just be careful," Mike had warned us non-stop since we'd arrived. His wife's new, custom cabriole wing chair and matching pillows was delivered today and she hadn't even seen it yet. "Lucky, I can afford her. She's at her mom's in Baker, but she'll be back in the morning. If anything's messed up, she'll have my head. Just don't go near it, you assholes."
There you go, our gracious host.
Crowded into the cozy living room, Stephen still searching for salacious drinks, my brain ruminated about why they were called cocktails in the first place: in my addlepated condition I was so proud of whoever put the words "cock" and "tail" together. With way too much alcohol coursing through all our brains and veins, the conversation turned back to sex and, as I was the only female, I was the center of attention. (Did I tell you I was with nine men? The thought alone made me moist.)
"Judy'll have his head,
Big Mike'll be dead,
Don't you dare
Go near the chair."
When he got snockered, Harvey liked to think he was Calliope. At least his dreadful attempts at poetry made everyone lighten up temporarily.
Harvey was also the guy in the room with whom I was closest. Plus, I had once drunk two loads of his cum on one business trip - without any marital infidelity!
"So, Lisa, have you ever had a Cum Shot?" he asked.
But with Harvey's question, suddenly I wasn't simply the only female. I could see the looks on their faces. My mouth had just become the center of a bull's eye! If I had looked in a mirror I know there'd have been concentric circles surrounding it.
To tell the truth I'd always been more than just a fan of fellatio, I was a fanatic. Though I took pleasure in sucking, it was the semen to which I was addicted. The feeling of a smooth cock between my lips was a real turn on, yet semen was nepenthe. I could have an orgasm just drinking a condomful. (Harvey, that time, had kindly provided exactly that treat.)

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