Ode To A Cali Courtesan Ch. 02

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More with Megan and her astonishing mouth.
60.3k words
4.65
40.7k
25

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/07/2013
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(this is a sequel to Ode to A Cali Courtesan, and takes place, as did the prequel, in real time. Thank you. These recollections are attempts to freeze a particular time, forever. Danbury 200)


My spent cock still deep in Megan's mouth, I lie back on the hot bed, nearly unconscious from the dramatic, wild sucking off.

Utterly drained, dick stiff but rapidly dwindling, my eyes closed in some of the deepest pleasure I have ever experienced, as I indolently float on orgasm pleasure, I can still feel, wet, warm, and softly mouthing, Megan's working lips, continuing to nurse my softening, cum benumbed tool...

It's as if she were still hungry, and THS is the conceit I am amazed and amused to witness! I offer it to you here as a kind of paean to her amazing skill set!

It is as if she has gotten nowhere near enough of sucking, of cum, even as her lips grip and regrip the dwindling tool, as her throat swallows and swallows...

I reach down and stroke her head and she coos, but almost plaintively, as if she had been expecting more cum. Considering the amount I just pumped into her, that's hard to fathom.

I am not complaining - not at all. Just amazed she has the stamina.

She holds my softening member as if still famished, her lips working with hungry dedication, staying on it, still softly moaning, her groans vibrating through my softening, still drooling tool as it slowly retracts into its snake cowl of foreskin, almost sore with delight.

I am stoned from orgasm and floating, and usually at this point Megan leaps up and is ready for me to go.

But not today...no, today will enter a kind of pantheon of heavenly cloudy dream histories, one of the handful of erotic dreams that is all a man will have left (or woman, either) to remember, as if by lightning flashes, till the end of their eros life...yes, this is a Hellenic remembrance, an ode -- I was not kidding you, I take my titles seriously!

Today a kind of history will be made, writ large by this gorgeous blonde amazon of cock...this handmaiden of Art itself...this perfect temple whore...the vestal queen!

And if you doubt me, then read on and you will see...

I simply float on cum sucked dopamine, and feel my cock, on its mat of fur, is resisting her reluctance to let it go...she tugs at it, worrying it like a puppy eating taffy, working her tongue all around the slackening foreskin, keeping her hands at her side, moaning softly and with nearly irritated appetite that more cum is not issuing from the piss slit, incredibly still hungry for cock and come.

Softly grunting, she keeps softly soothingly sucking at the deflating head, smashing it with her lower lip and tongue, her lips nibbling, fish-like, at the shrinking mushroom head, the sperm dripping from it onto the ridge of cock helmet, the tongue coated.

And she does not surcease after the usual minute or so.

I think I drift off for a few minutes, but when I come to again, I realize hazily as I look down my body, eyes half closed...that she's still nursing it softly. As I drift in and out, I feel the warmth of her matted blonde hair on my belly and my shrinking member, and can feel the not unpleasant, soft, milking, insistent vacuum of appetite, her cooing persistence, mixed with suckling drooling sounds, as I drift, daydreaming, coming down off my dopamine high.

Remarkable.

She croons as she now takes slow, long, flat-tongued licks of my belly and hips, but always returns to the shriveling cock, now tonguing the sac that is also spreading back down onto my thighs, losing its tight-bagged tension, pancaking out.

As if to celebrate this apres-denouement, the sun comes in the window through the flat space between the sunshade and the balcony wall it illuminates her blonde hair, and the cock itself and her mouth.

She shows no signs of stopping, and it feels too lovely to stop it myself. I do wonder what this renascent hunger is...but not enough to stop her...god no!

Instead I look down and enjoy this most unexpected coda to a cum.

It's totally mental, this erotic stirring in my mind -- for my cock is dead numb, sucked off and out.

The bed is bathed in the light from the late afternoon beach sun, a Courbet-like light of crimson and gold and blue. She remains busy at her task.

As I wake fully, I prop my head up and see, now, spot-lit, the cock falls to one side, glistening, sticky, a stray pubic hair now going into her mouth without protest. She seems to welcome the scratchy length of it, the coil. And she lick lips from one side of the tube to the other, she noses the accordion of lax foreskin, sniffing at it inquisitively, softly protesting its deflation, the cock head squishing lazily under her working mouth, the foreskin beginning to swallow the whitening helmet, but as it does she takes a new, re-needing grip of it with her wet, bruised mouth and sucks the head back out of its cowl with a moaning pop -- and she keeps pulling the head out with the sheer vacuum of her lips, making it pop in an out, a bubble rising on it as she drenches the cock with the cum spit that she still hasn't swallowed.

The sun glints off the sperm that glazes her cheek, off the glistening head of the dick itself, turning cream colored now, losing its purple hue, it's tube shape drawing in...being pop-sucked in and out of her mouth like a plopping se slug, a fat but sleepy serpent, and indolent and nearly formless, a big meat sack tube.

This is Cleopatra quality post-cum worship. No, more! I doubt very much even Cleopatra equaled what this amazing Teuton is lavishing upon me today -- you be the judge!

As she continues ministering to the slowly drooling, still stiff but slackening and softening, penis, I'm barely able to raise my head to look, I'm so drained and so high on the wild orgasm to which she's sucked me.

Finally I see that she has stopped and is raising her head from my cock.

Peering up at me dazedly.

A long string of cum drool remains stretched, seemingly frozen- between her now swollen mouth and the sheened foreskin of the cock that lies like a flattening cigar on my belly, a string that trembles but does not break as she now talks, her eyes still concentrated and narrowed with her own bliss. Her eyes closed against the sun but not leaving its spotlight.

"Hey, baby," she murmurs.

I smile dazedly up at her. Her face looms over me like a beatific cock nurse, glistening with drool, cum, smeared with juices from her hairline down to her chin down to her neck. She is smiling like La Giocanda...and the eroticism, the rank raw animal sensuality of the image is powerful.

She looks down at my cock, back up at me, her eyebrows raised slightly. She bites her bruised lower lip, the remnants of lipstick smeared along the edges.

She sighs, and flushes a little bit.

"Can we go again? Or do you want to rest for awhile first? Cuz I am hungry...so hungry..." She dips her head, and licks the cock from the base where it fits against the balls all the way to the tip, then mouths the head suddenly, lifting it off its belly bed and giving it a ravishing suck, before dropping it again, and mewling softly like a kitten against its wet length. Cum drips out of her mouth.

I am too dazzled by this disply of avidity to immediately reply.

She smiles hopefully, her head bowing a little.

"I'm so thirsty today, Roger," she whispers, and giggles and looks down, flushing with comely embarrassment.

I'm amazed and not a little bemused. It isn't that I don't believe her, which I don't, of course, it's that I am astonished at her work ethic. Her performance. That she has such stamina and can paint such a portrait, just after such an amazing display of sex hunger! That there is more in her!

Of course, she is upselling. She would like another hour of money. But she's never done this before. That's why it is novel.

I crook one elbow and sit up slightly, to look at the digital clock in the porno screen corner of her big display.

It's 3:50 and my hour is almost up. You don't mess with a whore's standard hours -- it's a sacred clock. And yet here she is, still at it! This is not just unusual, this is unprecedented.

She's never done this before - asked me to stay. It's not an unusual whore ploy -- they call it 'multiple pops' in the ads, but it's new between me and Megan and she must realize it, because she grins slyly.

"Appetite, Roger, somehow you have whetted today, " she whispers, and grins, shyly bowing her head back into the wet curve of the undercock.

I chuckle. I want her to at least sell me a little bit. I pretend I don't understand what she wants.

"You could make me come in ten minutes? Again? Darling, not even you have that capability. The spirit is willing, but my cock...well...he just came."

She simply looks up at me wide-eyed.

"Honey, yes, it is of course good to have the financial affirmation -- I love that so, but...the truth is...today I am genuinely horny for cocksucking and I want to drink him more, " she says hoarsely. "Drinking your cum was so good, but...but, oh, honestly, I am still so thirsty."

I sigh and lie back, loving the upsell.

She nods vigorously, her tongue coming out to lick at the rope of chin drool and sperm that connects her lips to my quiscent uncoiled hose of cock.

"Honey, you taste so good today, you have obviously eaten well, but I have learned to go with the flow, you know, and I am so into sucking your cock today - it would be a shame to waste this feeling, Roger, oh GOD." She stares at me, almost anguished. "It would be a SHAME to waste this hunger of mine, it doesn't happen often, I'm not lying about this."

She trembles as she lowers her head and licks the limp cock with real relish, sniffs it deeply closing her eyes, and now looks back up at me with near mischief in her dazed looking eyes.

"I'm the guy, huh," I say, gently mocking her.

She looks up and smiles.

"I espeicially liked," she whispers, "the way you mouth fucked me at the end." She giggles. "Just using me as your bitch, darling." She licks the foreskin. "Can we please do more of that?"

I sit up slightly and light the joint she's laid out on the table. I hardly ever smoke it but today I want to.

Especially if we're continuing, and it very much looks like we are. Megan really knows how to convince me.

I take in a deep breath, eye her wryly.

"So this is to be a joint effort, a plaisir de mutuale."

She giggles. "So yes. You know that of course sometimes I am not into a customer, but I think you know I love you and your beautiful cock, monsieur. And you would have to do your part."

I raise my eyebrows in fake outrage. "Me? Why should I have to do anything if I'm paying?"

"Because you want the best of me, you know?" She looks earnestly at me, cum still gleaming on her open mouth.

I have to laugh. Of course I've already decided to give another hour here. I've had a good month. What better use of my money could I do? Fund my IRA? Buy some stock? Please!

It's just unusual, the way she wants another hour. I don't think she's ever asked before.

And I don't want to appear to give in so easily. Megan loves a challenge. Indulge her!

"I'll need to check my I-Phone," I say.

She nudges at the cock with her nose, panting.

"I will get it for you," she whispers, but she makes no move to leave the bed. She puts her pouting lips just at the belled, shrinking slit of the head, and sucks in the cum drool and smacks her lips, dropping her head slightly in delight, eyeing the cock with nascent hunger, sniffing at it, even while looking hopefully back up at me, a puppy with a toy she hopes her master will allow her to play with.

I smoke another draught of weed, staring down at her in surmise -- and I admire, even more! Her dedication to the almighty dollar coupled so strongly to her obvious natural desire to please - such a synthesis of talent and avarice is a wonderful thing. Synergy, I believe they call it in business. I call it artisanry at the highest level - and she's just upped her beautiful commercial art - again!

It is a banner day. I've never done a 'double' with a whore before - let alone Megan. She's expensive.

And yet...she does seem particularly into her work today...it's curious...I wonder why...and why not take advantage of it?

I look down through the curlicues of marijuana smoke at an erotic scene worthy of a Turkish seraglio etching by Durer.

She now takes the tips of both her forefingers and puts them on either side of the slackening head of the cock, pulling the hose upright, as if worshiping a totem, stretching it like taffy, supporting it on either side upright, so she can address the helmet head with reverence and tense, famished concentration.

I'm going to pretend I'm not convinced - I just love to see her sell her cocksucking skills and she seems to enjoy it.

The head is drawn up and smashed together, nodding sleepily to one side as she smells it, as if an infant unwilling aroused from deep slumber, the mushroom cap slanting, the piss cum slit leaking.

Her eyes stay on the cock as she pleads softly into the head.

"Let me watch you as you rest, Master, and slowly makes more cum in this beautiful cock, coming up from this marvelous sack of balls."

She lowers the slack penis, letting it fall to one side, and her devilishly pleasurable fingers now trace lightly over my still pulsing scrotum, butterflies of tracings, sparking...flitting, teasing, flirting with the bag, fingers fluttering, hovering...

Megan is working herself up, her hysteria is like a self-stoking combustible fire, one of the best parts of her as a whore.

"OH, oh, please let me caress this pipe, the beautiful meat, while it rests and store up more cum...let me stay here with your cock, oh please - eat your meat again and again...oh god!"

Closing her eyes as if in ardent pain, she pushes at the middle pipe of cock, then up, a narrowing rope of drool rivuleted down the belled, in-drawing mushroom head, whose top she now uses her fingers to twist slightly from left to right and back again.

She looks so serious now. Her cheeks glazed with drying, sexily whitening drool and cum, her mouth working, her tongue coming out to whirl about the cock head, basting it, swirling it around as if decorating a pastry, smacking her lips, giving it one last tongue lashing, and then, dramatically, she just removes her hands, to let the cock fall onto my belly.

She stares at it, cries out, and now, with just her head, she now bends down and, using only her mouth, she sucks up the worm of wet cock just with her lips, and it disappears with a slithering, worm-like wriggle, into her mouth, her cheeks working and hollowing.

She holds it in, sucking, but now suddenly drops it almost all the way out of her mouth, deliberately letting it almost fall out, but then at the least millisecond catching the side of it as it falls, the skin stretching out as she holds it just by the side foreskin, now holding it in her mouth like a mother cat holds a kitten by the neck, the rest of the cock hanging down, dripping onto my thigh.

The cock hangs there, sleepily, stretched, just by the collar of foreskin. After a few relishing moments, where drool slides down onto the limp, stretched taffy of cock, she then lets it fall back onto my belly, drenched with more drool.

She does this repeatedly, each time adding to the glaze of saliva on the roll of bouncing, re-sleeved, pale cock. Each time she gives a little moan, watching it bounce when she releases it. A cat toying with a flesh mouse, the slit still leaking little tears of clear cum from the touseled open sleeve, circumcized top.

She yearningly watches the cock as it rolls to one side, then the other, although it's so close to her she has to practically cross her eyes, but it's as if she can't get enough of watching it bounce.

I let my legs fall open, to give her better access. I'm enchanted by this cock play, even if only mentally. Physically my cock is numb.

"I want to watch your cock lie across your leg as it rests, Master," she breathes, her 'r' sounding harshly erotic.

She keeps softly rubbing her cheek on the quiescent cock, then letting it fall again. "Just stay here with it. It lies here so pretty."

She coos, and nudges it with her nose.

Her proud demonstration that she has truly learned the art of worshiping soft cock. I had taught her this, after all.

Jesus!

"Just to be with the cock," she moans. "Just... breathe in the cock smell." She takes a long inhalation.

I am so enjoying the sales job. Let her keep going!

"Oh, Master," she sighs, looking up at me. "Just...look at this penis," she murmurs. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

She holds it up in the sun like a shining sea serpent she has plucked from the ocean foam, a gilded, rope of gold gift she has brought to me, proffering it for a full minute, staring down at it in rampant delight. As she does, she continues to paint the now-somnolent meat roll with spit from her tongue, basting it, letting the saliva bubble and pop along with the traces of cum from the orgasm, all the way from the slit of the head down to the root where it nests into the sac with a wrinkled angle of sticky bag skin.

"A pretty picture," she groans.

Well, beauty is in the eye of the beholder! Ha - but she seems entranced, and that is what matters, LOL...

She pants a little bit. Drops the cock back onto my belly.

Hovering over it.

"Look at it," she says, almost to herself. She frowns, one hand snaking to her pussy. She begins to grunt and move in a frig, her eyes worshiping the snake as she does. Isis...Osiris...

Moaning, slightly foaming at the mouth as she nudges the cock with her nose.

I watch, fascinated. Lying back and forgetting the ruse of the I-phone.

How can she give such a performance after her athletic suck, the wild frenzy? She has another game in her? God!

Only the truly talented enjoy demonstrating their art like this. Her sheer professionalism overwhelms me.

"I'm so hungry," she whispers to the slit at the wrinkled cockhead, the ring of foreskin turning back to red and lightening up into pink-blue as it rolls to one side again. She blows on the rod and I can feel it drying, tightening the skin as it does. She blows hard enough to move it slightly, which takes a real chuff. Then she breathes in right above the marbled foreskin.

"This heavy meat. So MAGNIFICENT! And- I will make him hard again eventually," she murmurs into it. "Turn this rod hard and red and make him SQUIRT for me. Roger, I WILL eat and drink from this cock again!"

I have to laugh, finally.

"Megan, darling, you've never upsold me before. Should I be flattered? I guess I will be."

She glances up at me, giggles unashamedly, and smiles above the glistening cock, the red dome of the split glans fading now, the bottom of the tube already parchment white again, strands of gluey spit connecting it to her chin and cheeks.

She shakes her head stubbornly. "He is what I need to drink from, Master, he is the master, too - "

She noses the cock, smiling, eyes shining, petting it with both hands, trapping it and rolling the slackening darker band marking the upper foreskin, lolling against it now wooingly.

"My strong and masterful sweetheart," she whispers. "My liebchen."

Now she looks back up at me from just over the cock, keeping her face very close to it.

"Also? Like I told you." Her face is child-like, wide-eyed, every inch the innocent. "I'm so horny today, Roger, I - I am SO in the mood - doesn't that count for anything honey...that I truly just today want your cum so much again?"

"So this really is an act of charity on my part to let you suck cock?"

She smiles wickedly. She licks her honeyed lips, and slurps at the head of the still drooling cock, the cum still roped along one side of it where she's left a little bit.