index


Message-ID: <63399asstr$1435050602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Johnson's Heaven, Episode 4: Florrie (MF Oral)
Lines: 863
Date: Tue, 23 Jun 2015 05:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Johnson's Heaven
by Kellis



Episode 4: Florrie


"You like this thing, don't you?" said Johnson, holding up the more 
complicated of the two strap-on dildoes that Clara had bought on her 
earlier excursion.  The shaft was large enough to contain two D-cells 
for the vibrating element in the head.  A foam-tipped protrusion above 
the shaft formed a separate clit tickler.  The whole thing extended no 
more than seven inches from the belts, probably because of the 
protrusion.  Model testicles were not included.

They lay together on her bed, still recovering from their recent 
exercise with that article.

She grinned.  "How could you tell?"

"Most women seem to have rather sedate climaxes, compared to men, but 
one learns to recognize them.  And when the girls aren't sedate, you 
suspect they're faking.  I've fucked you, what, a dozen times?  When 
your moans turn to grunts, that's it.  Right?"

She shrugged.  "You expect me to notice?"

"I guess not.  With me up your ass, this bulbous head buzzing in your 
pussy and the foam bumping your clit, your grunts are twice as loud.  Do
you deny coming just now?"

She sighed.  "That combination is just ..."

"Too much?"

"Out of this world!"

He chuckled.  "I'm glad to hear you found something interesting here."

Her eyes popped wider.  "Interesting?  Johnson, life with you is 
fascinating!  So far."

"For both of us."  He studied her appraisingly.  "Helen, I think I've 
been looking all along for a woman like you."

"What kind of woman is that?"

"One who really loves sex.  I can be more precise: one who loves fucking
however she gets it.  I believe that's you."

She nodded with a sigh.  "Too much sometimes."

"I like what that implies too."  His voice changed timber.  "I want to 
attend a convention that's coming up, take you with me, show you off."

"Show me to who?"

"Some of the other attendees."

Her eyes sparkled.  "I'm not a marble statue, Johnson."

"I'll say you aren't!  But posed on all fours on a coffee table, wearing
only a smile, with big boobs drooping and big ass in the air, you'll be
a knockout."

Her eyes rounded.  "Who'll be looking?"

"Half a dozen other attendees.  We'll put one of them underneath you on
the coffee table, the one with the biggest pects."

"Oh god, Johnson -- with another standing behind me?"

"One in front too."

She took a deep breath, eyes like saucers.  "That sounds ... that sounds
..."  Her gaze turned inward.

"Is that the kind of fucking you love too much?"

"Oh, god!"  Her hand flew to her groin.


* * *


"I've got a new girl coming this morning," said Johnson at breakfast.

Clara cocked her head.  "I suspected as much."

"Did you?"

"It's why we didn't fuck all day yesterday."

He grinned.  "Got me all figured out, have you?"

"Maybe not.  But what you do includes an element of showmanship, doesn't
it?  You like to pop them a mouthful."

"Showmanship?"

"And it reduces the chance of disappointment."

He said thoughtfully, "I don't think I'll ask you to explain that."

"Because you might get one who turns you off."  She paused then 
shrugged.  "I've been wondering, nowadays with the Internet, why don't 
you make your prospects send you a photo?"

He sniffed.  "A girl with Internet access probably doesn't need to go 
suck a stranger's cock."

"Maybe not, but I could have sent you one and I'm sure so could 
Melissa."

"Who?"

"The last one who was here.  You _don't_ remember their names, do you!"

"My computer does that, and more too."


* * *


The woman admitted to the great room later that morning was a true 
carrot top with orange hair pulled back in a long ponytail.  She was of
medium build, wearing a plain black knee-length dress with half length 
sleeves and black pumps.  One hand clutched a small purse.

"Close the door and come on in," said Johnson.  "You are Florrie, right?
I'm Johnson and I love your hair."

"Thank you," she answered in an alto voice, smiling nervously as she 
advanced across the floor.  "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."  He gestured around at the three tripods.  "The green lights
on those three cameras mean they're already recording.  They track 
anything that moves.  I hope you don't mind them."

"I don't.  You said you'd make a video."

"Good."  He stood up and handed her a roll of bills.  "This is for 
coming."

When she had taken the money and stuffed it into her purse, he added, 
"Please strip off all your clothing.  You may hang it on that chair."

"All of it?" she squeaked.

He nodded.  "Every stitch.  I also told you nudity is required."

"But ... but I thought we'd talk a while first."

He smiled wryly.  "Bare skin seems to promote truth."

"Is that your experience?"  She shook her head.  "Lying might even be 
easier nude."

"Lying prone, maybe, but not by mouth."

She blinked and shrugged.  Her hands went behind her.  In a moment the 
dress hung over the chair.  Brassiere and panties followed.  She toed 
off her pumps and stood straight before him, biting her lip.

He nodded slowly.  "You're well shaped, Florrie."

Her only response was to cover her nipples with her palms.

He smiled.  "It's too late to conceal them, my dear.  Why do you want 
to?"

"They're too small."

"Oh, I don't agree.  What's the cup size?"

"B."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"I assure you, they'll grow.  Please take a seat facing me on that other
couch."

She sat on the edge with one leg tightly crossed over the other, hands 
clasped beyond the higher knee, and said suggestively, "You don't plan 
to be truthful?"

He smiled indulgently, undid the belt tie and spread his knees where he
sat facing her, almost in arms' length.  "As you see, I'm only wearing 
robe and slippers.  Or were you offering to help me strip?"

"I ... I'm sorry.  You're paying _me_."

He made a throwaway gesture.  "Do you go to school, Florrie?"

"No.  I'm a clerk in a drugstore."

"Pays well, does it?"

"Barely enough for my rent."

"You have an apartment?"

"With five other girls."

"Marianne lives with you?"

"Marianne?  Oh.  Yeah.  She's the one who told me about you."

"So you said."  He grinned.  "Not her real name, eh?"

"No."

"But she's one of my video stars.  All right, Florrie.  Are you ready 
for the disgusting personal questions?  You said she told you about them
too."

"I guess so."  She straightened her shoulders.  "Yes, I am."

"Good.  How old were you the first time you fucked?"

Her eyes widened.  "That's vulgar!"

"So is sucking cock.  How old?"

She hesitated and took a deep breath.  "I probably shouldn't do it, but
what the hell, Johnson?  I'm going to tell you the truth.  I was 
twelve."

"I'm paying for the truth.  Were you prepubertal?"

"It was before my period, if that's what you mean."

"As I recall, girls that age are very curious.  How did your first one 
happen?"

"My aunt's husband seduced me."

"Really!  Your uncle?"

"Not by blood."

"How'd he do it?"

"He let me find a series of pictures."

"Pornographic?"

"I'll say!  He and my aunt were having sex in them."

"Missionary?"

"Huh?  Oh.  That too.  They started off orally."

"With his cock in her mouth?"

"Yeah.  Then with the come leaking underneath it down her chin.  As soon
as I saw it, my bottom got ..."

"Wet?"

"I was going to say 'warm,' but that too.  Then he was tonguing her.  My
hand went straight into my shorts."

"You had already discovered how to frig?"

"Oh, yes."  After a moment she giggled.

When he cocked an eyebrow, she explained, "Nature teaches girls about 
that.  All they have to do is straddle something.  What's funny is that
somebody has to teach a boy."

He nodded.  "I think that's generally true, but also of girls.  You 
haven't heard of 'feeling parties?'"

Her giggle strengthened.  "Did you think they're for teaching about 
clits?"

"Aren't they?"

"They're to let you meet other girls who play."

"If you say so.  I suppose your uncle caught you looking at his 
pictures."

"How'd you guess?" she asked dryly.  "He caught me with my shorts down 
and rubbing like mad."

"What did he say?"

"'You're a noisy frigger.  I'll bet you scream when you come.'"

Johnson grinned.  "Not the usual remark, eh?"  He made gathering 
motions.  "Tell it all."

"I'm like, 'I can scream now.'

"He goes, 'Not yet but soon,' and pushes his sweatpants down.  His penis
looks exactly like what's in the pictures: sticking out and curving up a
little.  He and I both know auntie is off playing cards.  We've got the
house to ourselves."

"What did you feel?" asked Johnson.  "Were you afraid?"

"Not afraid at all.  You said it: I'm all tingly and burning with 
curiosity.  All I can see is his big ... cock.  I drop to my knees and 
suck it in like in the pictures."

"That was your first blow job, I gather.  How'd it taste?"

She shook her head.  "I'm so tingly I don't notice the taste.  I like 
the way it feels in my mouth.  And I love doing something so different.
It's exciting even when I gag."

"A natural born cock sucker!"

"That's me."

"It was already hard, you say?  He must've been watching you frig."

"I was in the den.  He'd been in the kitchen watching me over the 
counter.  They had a thick carpet.  I didn't know he was there until he
was standing over me."

"Was that also your first porn?"

"The real kind.  I'd seen some nudity on HBO."

"His pictures were eye-openers."

"So's his cock.  He goes, 'You're about to taste what your aunt loves.'"

"Did you know what he meant?"

"My friends and I talked about it."

Johnson chuckled.  "I can just imagine: 'When a boy fucks, white shit 
comes out his dick.'"

"We knew it wasn't shit."

"How'd you like that first mouthful?"

She grinned.  "It did seem like a lot."

"Did you swallow?"

"I had to.  The head was on the back of my tongue."

"Did you complain?"

"No.  I never even thought of complaining, even when he ripped my 
cherry, which should've hurt!"

"He did that right away?"

"He sent me to put down some towels then gave me a good licking."

"You're leaving out details."

"With his tongue on my clit, of course."

"Of course.  Did you enjoy that?"

"Oh, god, you know it!  So much so that it felt good when he first put 
it in.  I just kept coming."

"That's very unusual, Florrie."

"So I've heard."

"Did you bleed?"

"Enough to really stain his genitals."

Johnson chuckled.  "Did he complain?"

"He goes, 'Just call me Old Red Dick.'"

"Not very impressed by your sacrifice, eh?"

"I thought he was funny."

"You were pretty cool."

"I knew it could happen on the first time but not that much blood.  I'm
like, 'Should I see a doctor?'  

"He laughs a little and goes, 'Florrie, this is what happens to 
twelve-year-old girls left alone with Uncle.'

"I'm like, '_Some_ uncles, maybe!'"

"'Loving uncles, like me.'"

Johnson nodded.  "I doubt that was the end of your conversation."

"We talk quite a bit.  I want to do it again.  He says I have to wait a
few days.  We take a shower together.  He gets me a tampon and helps me
put it in then takes the towels to the washer."

"Did you tell your aunt?"

"No, but I think she knew.  I'm all over him after that, as you might 
guess.  A couple days later she winks at me and remarks about how loving
we've got."

"She never mentioned it otherwise?"

"No.  Not to me, at least."

"I'm sure you knew that you had your uncle over a barrel whenever you 
wanted to put him there."

"You mean with the law?"  Florrie shrugged.  "Ratting on him would not 
have occurred to me.  I'm only telling you because I know you don't 
really care."

"Did he fuck you again?"

"Every time she left us alone.  I even blew him once in the den while 
she was upstairs."

"But you already suspected she knew about it."

"When I had swallowed his come in the den and his wet dick was sticking
up, I'm like, 'What would happen if Auntie walked through that door 
right now?'

"He goes, 'She'd scream not to spit on her couch.'

"I'm like, 'Doesn't she swallow?'  Then I remember in the picture it's 
running down her chin."

"Presumably your visit ended after a while.  Did you ever fuck your 
uncle again?"

"Oh, yes.  Like I said, every time I could get him alone."  She grinned
with a toss of her head.  "The last time was about six months ago."

"He's a very lucky man."

"He says he makes his own luck."

"Very true, in this case at least.  Florrie, how many other men have you
fucked?"

She took a deep breath.  "I'm a slut, Johnson.  I don't really know."

"Do you mean ...  You couldn't mean ...  This place you share with five
other girls, is it a whore house?"

She grinned.  "Informally, you could say."

"Well, is it?  Do your friends fuck men for money?"

"Sometimes, but more often we just give it away for drinks and dinner, 
like most girls."

"To boyfriends?"

"Bar flies, usually."

"I see.  That suggests you and Marianne might have other prospects for 
me."

"Maybe."  She grinned saucily.  "If I give them a good report."

"You should be able to.  Let's go from the general to the particular.  
Do _you_ fuck men for money?"

"I'm about to _suck_ one."

"You said you were a clerk in a drugstore.  Turning tricks on the side?"

"Okay, I've done that once in a while.  Some guys would rather pay cash
upfront then treat to drinks and dinner."

Johnson's eyebrows rose.  "They proposition you that way?"

"Exactly that way.  They go, 'Instead of getting half drunk, let's cut 
to the chase.  Will you fuck me for a hundred dollars?'"

"And you accept?"

"Sure.  I just want to fuck."

Johnson chuckled.  "You show a masculine attitude.  Do you spare any 
wants for the future?"

She shrugged.  "My friend Denise went home with a guy last year and 
married him.  They just had a kid.  Who knows what the future will 
bring?"

"Who indeed?  Was Denise a slut too?"

"We all are."

"And amuse each other when men aren't handy?"

"Not me.  I don't swing that way."  She giggled.  "We amuse each other 
by running down our guys."

"What will you say about me?"

Her eyes twinkled.  "Maybe something like, 'He was all talk.'"

"We've just begun.  Pull your knees up and spread your legs.  Hook your
heels on the edge of the couch."

When she had obeyed, the camera behind Johnson whirred as Clara panned 
and zoomed for the close-up.

Florrie heard the sound.  "Who's running the camera?"

Johnson held up the unused remote control as misdirection.  He said, 
"That's disappointing."

"What is?"

"I was hoping your pubes would reveal your natural hair color.  You 
shaved them close this morning, didn't you?"

"Red is its natural color."  Her chin rose.  "What is it with men and 
shaved pubic hair?  Do they really want to fuck little girls?"

"Some do, I suppose.  Others admire the more visible folds of flesh.  I
like it either way."

"Maybe I'll let it grow.  Men do seem to like red hair."

"They believe it marks horny women.  Pull open your pussy lips."

Again the camera whirred.  Its narrowly-focused flood light came on.

"That's a lovely baby-hole," he said admiringly.  "Look over your 
shoulder.  I'll bet you've never seen it in such detail."

She strained head and shoulders to obey and exclaimed at sight of the 
huge enlargement, "Wow!"

"You say you're a slut.  It's obvious that heavy exercise isn't harmful
to a pussy."

Her finger explored within the pink cavern as she continued to watch the
wall-mounted screen.  She giggled.

"Feels good, does it?" he asked.

"I look at it in a mirror every time I shave.  It amuses me that I never
thought to look _up_ it."

"For that you need better light.  You are unusually wet."

She faced him with a grin.  "I love talking about fucking."

"And you talk well too.  That pussy is remarkably symmetrical.  Do you 
mind if I explore it also?"

She grinned widely.  "Not a bit."

He dropped to his knees before her and inserted his fingers, first one,
then two then three.

She sniffed.  "How unusual!  You didn't go for the clit first."

"I'll get there."

After a moment of continuing palpitation she added, "Be careful or 
you'll get wet."

He looked up at her quizzically.

She caught her breath.  "Lift up on the ... I guess you'd call it the 
roof."

His fingers flexed repeatedly upward.  Shortly a fine spray wet his 
hand.

His eyes widened.  "Where'd that come from?"

"I'm a squirter," she declared.  "But just a little bit."

He withdrew and studied the back of his hand.  "I repeat: where'd that 
come from?"

"Do you like it?"

He licked his hand and tasted his lips.  "No particular flavor."

Bending forward, he peered into the cavity.  "Does it come from the pee
hole?"

She said thoughtfully, "It doesn't feel like that exactly.  There may be
other tiny openings, like in your throat for saliva."

"You can feel it squirt?"

"I can feel it get a lot wetter."

"When you're fucking?"

"Especially then.  Especially when I'm coming."

He reinserted the three fingers and standing up, closed his palm over 
her shaven mound to compress the clit rhythmically from within and 
without.  She moaned and the general wetness increased detectably.  He 
continued until her hips twitched and she cried out, "Oh, my god!"

He soon desisted and sat back down on the opposite couch, grinning and 
sniffing his hand.  She heaved a breath, fell back on the couch, let her
feet hit the floor and returned his grin.

He said complacently, "I take it you had a little one at least."

"I did.  You know your women, don't you?"

"Thank you."  He got to his feet and flung off the robe, displaying a 
firm erection.  "Now it's my turn."

She eyed the approaching organ and said, "That's a pretty one."

He paused with the head inches from her lips.  "What's your standard of
beauty?"

"Straight, veins not swollen and a thin-skinned head."  Her hand came up
and pulled back the foreskin.  "Oh, yes!"

"How do you know it's thin-skinned?"

"It has a purple tinge.  The capillaries and the nerves are right on the
surface, which means higher sensitivity."

He said with deliberate irony, "You know your cocks, don't you?"

She grinned.  "I've made a study."

He nodded.  "You do get to study them close up.  How many, Florrie?"

"How many cocks have I studied?"

"How many have been in your mouth?"

She shrugged one shoulder.  "I told you, Johnson: I'm a slut.  I don't 
really know."

"A different one every week for two or three years?"

"Umm."  She thought a moment.  "Not every week, and sometimes two or 
three in the same week."

"Is over a hundred a fair guess?"

She shrugged with both shoulders.  "Maybe."  She giggled.  "It sounds 
like a lot."

"Not if you enjoy it."

"Which I really do.  Nothing else is like a cock."

"Here's one more.  Open your mouth."

Leaning forward, she audibly slurped him in.  After a moment's tongue 
work she backed away, licking her lips.  "Salty."

"Doesn't a cock have sweat glands?"

She blinked.  "Don't you know?"

"I never thought about it.  Suck."

She readmitted him and obeyed, bobbing gently.  One hand fondled his 
balls.  A side camera whirred as it zoomed.  Woops!  The remote control
was in his discarded robe, but Florrie hadn't noticed.

Her free arm went around his hips and applied counter pressure as her 
nose and lips compressed his pubic pad.

"Good god!" he exclaimed involuntarily.

She held that pose for a few seconds and withdrew.  Her eyes twinkled.
"Did you like that?"

"Florrie, did you ever find a man who didn't?"

"I had one told me it made him look like a girl."

"Do it again."

He stared down as her face darted forward.  Her fingers pressed his 
balls against her chin, permitting her to look up at him through the 
fringes of his pubic hair.

"He was right," said Johnson.  "And I can understand his complaint if he
thought you'd bite it off."

With the cock head in her throat she laughed hard enough that mucus shot
from her nostrils.  Snatching her head back, she cried, "God, Johnson, 
I'm sorry!" and her extended tongue licked the residue from his hair.

"Not a problem," he said, smiling, and stooped to kiss her forehead.  "I
like expressive women."

"That was a pun, right?"

"Also the truth."  He straightened up and thrust his hips forward.

Her eyes crossed on the proffered object.  "I'd like to keep that thing
but not by biting it off."  She spread her legs and pulled her knees up
into the earlier display position.  "Fuck me, Johnson, please?"  Her 
expression was one of sincere entreaty.

He hesitated.  "I'm paying for a blowjob."

"I want you to fuck me ... so _bad_!"

"After the blowjob.  Maybe."

"Oh, all right!" she said with a touch of exasperation, leaned forward 
and readmitted him.

He let her work for a while before declaring tightly, "Here it comes!"

She accepted his ejaculate calmly without spilling a drop.  When he had
finished and backed away, she opened her mouth wide to exhibit a tongue 
full of jizz.  He stepped to one side to let the rear camera see.  
Fortunately it did not whir, presumably because it was still zoomed 
from before.

When she saw that he had noticed, she swallowed in a gulp and grinned 
disdainfully.  "Is that about what you expected?"

He took a breath.  "You are very neat."

"Which is why you can get away with sucking a cock in public."

"Do you like to do it there?"

"It's thrilling.  My loving uncle likes it."

"Until you get caught."

"We got caught once."

"Who by?"

"A cop, would you believe!"

"That has a sound of a good story."

"Want to hear it?"

"Florrie, you like to brag, don't you?"

She giggled and nodded.  "When the audience appreciates it."

"Do you still want to fuck?"

"Umm.  Not so much."

"I hope the taste of my jizz didn't put you off."

"I think it was your refusal.  Anyway, you've got what you paid for."

"That's true."  He found his robe, shrugged back into it and withdrew a
third roll of bills.  "This is yours, including a bonus for your 
frankness."

"Thank you."

She slipped efficiently into her clothing without dallying.  Shortly she
stood with purse in hand.  "It's been interesting, Johnson."

"Yes, it has."

She shrugged one shoulder.  "I may not be your cup of tea.  You might 
like one of my housemates better.  Should I tell them to call you?"

"I have no complaint, Florrie.  But, yes, please do.  Say, next week.  
And tell the man at the desk downstairs to call you a taxi.  It's on 
me."

"Okay.  Goodbye."


* * *


When he had watched the rerun in the office with Clara, he shook his 
head with a sigh.  "Not one of the better ones."

Clara regarded him oddly and bit her lip.

"Say it," he ordered.

"What put you off?  I can't believe it was her twelve-year-old first 
fuck."

"Can't you?  But can you believe any twelve-year-old would be so 
unfazed, getting caught looking at her uncle's dirty pictures?"

Clara thought a moment.  "I think she wanted us to believe she was 
overcome with sexual feeling."

"Oh, yes, in a virgin at age _twelve_?"

She chuckled a little.  "Too much for you, eh?"

He sighed.  "Although it probably happened just the way she told it.  
Too bad.  I should've fucked her and then jizzed down her throat."

"Why didn't you really?"

"I broke my rules with you and seem to've got away with it.  I was 
damned if I'd do it again."

"What rules?"

"Just one that I learned the hard way: don't put your cock in a woman 
below the neck until she's been tested for STDs."

Clara's gaze was interested.  "How do you test them?"

"Really only one way: send them to a doctor for a pussy smear."

She blinked.  "I thought that was for cancer."

"Yes, but also for bacterial infections.  It covers the waterfront."

"'The hard way,' you say."

"Caught the clap.  But the antibiotics worked."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"But I can't send every woman to the doctor.  They won't stand for it.
For that matter I don't have a tame doctor."

"Why did you take a chance on me?"

"You were ... intelligent and obviously sincere.  And I found myself 
obsessing over you.  Which I still do, by the way."

"'Obsessing?'"

He shook his head.  "Clara, you are a remarkable woman in many 
delightful ways.  Even your genital odor is attractive."

Her eyebrows rose and she shifted in her captain's seat.

Grinning, he dropped to his knees before her, worked her pajama bottom 
down and buried his face in her crotch.

She sighed heavily.  "Johnson, I love your idea of proof.  Ooo, that's 
so sweet!"


END

kellis@dhp.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+