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I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 01

By: JRob



My wife Nancy Jean and I have been married just over seven years. Seven good years. We both had decent jobs, made good money, a horde of friends and middle class suburban lifestyle.

Nothing great, nothing extraordinary.

I suspect we were a fairly normal couple in most respects, even in the sex department. It surely wasn't as active as when we were dating, but we still managed lovemaking sessions a reasonable three times a week or so.

Nancy Jean has always been an active lovemaker. She would take the initiative from time to time, getting me to do what she turned her on best. Other times she'd be more submissive, and I would be the boss. Either way, we seemed to work well in the bedroom together. Maybe not frequent enough for me, but adventurous and satisfying when we did connect.

I learned early on that oral sex was an integral part of Nancy Jean's lovemaking wishes. She taught me to go down on her the way she liked; how she wanted to be taken to the highest degree of satisfaction. She had creamy white thighs, a trimmed bush, and active backside. By that I mean she would throw her hips at my face as she enjoyed my mouth. And on her part, she gave the best head I had ever had, bar none. She loved sucking my cock, and knew more tricks than the porn stars we'd see in blue movies. 

Nancy Jean and I attended high school together, but I moved away the summer before my senior year. My wife and I didn't date back then. She was older, having been held back a year in middle school because of illness. I knew her as a pretty girl who told me jokes in biology lab, one who loved to spend time in the library studying rather than daydreaming about boys. At least that is what I always thought.

As luck would have it, I ran into Nancy Jean by accident at State University. I had transferred there from a local community college, while she had attended since graduation from high school. We literally bumped into each other at the student union. After overcoming our surprise of seeing each other, we spent several long hours catching up over dinner. 

After a few dates we became inseparable. It was in my car, overlooking Tinicum Lake late one Saturday night, that pure and demure Nancy and I first made love to each other. There was no intercourse that night, but I did bring her to orgasm with my mouth and she reciprocated with every boy's fantasy. 

"I'm old fashioned, I guess, but I want to save that for my wedding night," said Nancy one night after I asked for the one millionth time to climb between her creamy thighs and insert my hard cock into her pussy. 

Heck, I wasn't complaining. Her blowjobs were superb, and I never went back to the dorm horny. It was in my dorm room one Tuesday night, with my roommate down the hall, that Nancy pulled her head off my dick and uttered the four wonderful words I will never tire of hearing. She looked at me, smiled, and told me to do one little thing: "Cum on my face".

Seconds later, I did, giving her a pearly necklace which she proudly wore for the next few minutes.

If I hadn't been in love before, I surely was then. And on numerous occasions over the next 18 months I shot my hot sauce onto her face, with Nancy Jean savoring the creamy loads like fine wine.

We had intercourse for the first time on our wedding night, and for the next several months the missionary position became our favored way of having sex. Later we experimented with different locations and positions, like all couples do. After a while we began varying the way we orgasmed between intercourse and good, old fashioned, oral sex. And when she took me orally, invariably I climaxed on her face.

Not once did I have a reason to complain. 

Which brings me to the night of our 10-year high school reunion. It was a festive evening at the Embassy Suites near the airport, complete with everyone telling those tall tales which abound at these get-togethers. This one was now a vice president of this or that, another had her own company, while still another was a professional athlete. 

We were late getting to the festivities, mostly because I begged for and received a fantastic toe curling blowjob in our hotel room before heading downstairs. That meant Nancy Jean had to head back to the bathroom to rework her makeup, straighten up her pretty light blue chiffon dress, and brush her brunette hair to perfection. It was worth the wait. We were doing Tequila shots while she made herself presentable, and had a bright buzz when we hit the elevator.

Nancy Jean and I cruised arm in arm around the banquet room, talked to some old friends, and joked with others we hardly remembered. Some we couldn't recognize, while others looked as if they stepped from high school into the hotel. Throughout the evening I sensed men's eyes on my wife, and from time to time snickers, but I chalked it off to remembrances of embarrassing moments which every has of their high school years.

We continued our belts or libations, danced a few slow numbers, and drank some more. Soon the buzz became a blitz for my little wife. I always knew when the booze was hitting her because she would insist on standing, and the resultant swaying gave away her inebriation. We danced a few slow songs together, and from time to time guys would cut in and I gave way and would watch them dance. 

Every once in a while I'd see a hand slid down a little too far, but Nancy Jean would gracefully tug it up onto her back and smile.

Midway through the night my evening, and my marriage, suffered a serious---pardon the expression---blow.

I was answering nature's call, sitting in a stall in the men's room, when several guys entered. Obviously on the down side of several dozen cocktails, they laughed at each other's jokes while doing their business. When their conversation turned to their high school days, I received the shock of my life.

"Did you see Nancy Jean Cochrane? She still looks as hot as ever," slurred one. "She looks great, just like the old days in that dress."

I smiled with pride at the mention of my wife's maiden name. But that smile was short lived.

Another replied, "You bet, she always had a great ass!"

"No kidding," said a third man. "But I'll bet her mouth is still her best asset."

"Oh, you know it," said the first man. "Nobody gave a blow job like Nancy Jean."

"Remember our names for her?" asked one. "Naughty Nancy for one."

"Nancy Jean Hoover!" chimed in another. 

"How about Super Sucker!" added another voice. 

"Messy face Nancy," laughed one. "You know, for that sticky makeup she used to get on Saturday nights."

The guys laughed at their comments. 

"Messy is right on the mark, I've never known a woman who liked cum on her face as much as Nancy Jean," said one man, laughing. "She never swallowed, but that didn't bother me. I loved cumming on her face! She could teach my wife lessons!"

"Oh yea, that was great. I can't imagine how she can walk around tonight and not blush. I mean, I bet she sucked off at least 20 guys here."

"Twenty? Try 30. Heck, we remember when we voted her Nancy Jean, the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High?"

"Yea, and she truly believed that fake Oscar we gave her was for her acting in the senior play...heck I voted for her because I wanted her to keep sucking my dick!"

The guys left the men's room and I couldn't move. My wife, my loving wife, being talked about as if she were a lowly slut. When I knew her she was 18 and a perfect young woman. Sometime in the year after I left school she became addicted to cock.

I splashed cold water on my face before leaving the room, my mind a jumble of emotions. My wonderful, decent wife had the reputation of a class whore. I didn't know where to seek her out and smack her, or take her out to the car and get her to use her well-known talents on my hardening dick.

Out of the rest room, I glanced around and finally saw my wife talking to her high school sweetheart, Biff Barnes, the football quarterback. We had met earlier in the evening and he struck me as a mental midget. But there Nancy Jean was, throwing her head back, laughing, and seemingly oblivious to his obvious undressing of her with his eyes.

Sauntering over to the twosome, I managed a smile. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe the comments by the guys in the men's room. I wanted to confront her, but what would I say. It happened before we were even dating, much less married. In a way it was a turn-on to know she had a bit of a reputation. On the other hand, I was jealous that others had sampled her ample charms.

Why ruin the night, I finally decided. She's having fun with her old friends. If she wanted rope, I'd give her some and not ruin the evening. 

For some reason, I decided to leave the banquet hall and slyly look in to see what would go on in my absence. Thinking back, it was a mistake.

I mentioned to Nancy Jean and Biff that I needed to get some old photos to show around from our room, and my wife made no move to join me. I made my way out of the banquet room, but doubled back to a different entrance and gazed inside.

I spied Biff glancing around, and then motioning to the door with a nod of his head. Nancy Jean smiled, mouthing "yes", and watched him leave. Seconds later, she followed.

The two met in the hall, and stole their way out a side entrance. When I reached the back door, I caught them walking toward a car on the side parking lot. Biff opened a door, reached to unlock the back door, and the two got into the back seat of his car. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out they weren't going to merely be discussing old times.

My first inclination was to go over and beat the two of them to a pulp, but instead slipped behind an evergreen tree. The windows on the car were already starting to fog over. I had a perfect view of the two of then necking, and could clearly hear his words between pants. 

"Suck my dick, Nancy Jean. Suck my cock like the old days."

There was a murmur, then a loud "zip" as his trousers were unhooked. Then my pretty wife's head lowered onto his cock. I had to move a bit closer, but there was no dispute of what she was doing. While it was in the realm of reality that a poisonous snake could have bitten him...and she could have been sucking out the venom, I sincerely doubted it. Why, his hand was on the back of her head and she was alternating licks and love bites on his bulging dick. His moans were loud as she slurped his cock. 

I watched in shock as her head bobbed in his lap, licking him like a Popsicle. He murmured dirty phrases at her while thrusting his pelvis up at her face. There was no doubt he loved it, and it wasn't long before his breathing became fast and furious, and her head lifted off his dick. 

"Cum on my face, lover," was all she said, and after several sensuous strokes his volcanic dick erupted searing hot lava ropes of cum all over my wife's cheek.

Nancy Jean kept stroking his cock until he was totally spent, gently rubbing his hot sauce all over her now sticky face. 

The two quietly spoke, but my ears couldn't catch the words. Not that it mattered. My pure, innocent, loving wife had just blown someone she hadn't seen in years, and right before my eyes. I backtracked from the hiding spot and made my way back to the hotel banquet room, my mind wondering how I should handle its newfound revelation of adultery. First I stopped at the bar, grabbed a beer, and then looked at the entryway where Biff was smugly making his entrance. 

He said something to a blond man, and the two high-fived while laughing at what must have been either a great joke or more likely, words about my wife. The blond shook his head, looked around the room, and then went out the way Biff came in. I sipped my beer, my eyes trailing Biff around the room. After a bit I realized the man he had spoken with minutes before never reappeared. 

"He couldn't be..." I thought to myself in disbelief. Like cold water hitting my face early in the morning, I snapped my head back. A light in my brain went off as I made a beeline back out to the car. What I caught was the tail end of the blond jerking off his dick against my wife's face.

History repeated itself as the man rubbed his spent dick against my pretty wife's now messy face. She laughed at something he said, and he patted her on the head before emerging from the back seat, tucking his shirt into his pants. 

Sitting in the shade of the evergreen, watching the white man sauce cascade down her cheeks, I realized my wife was indeed a slut. 

As further evidence another man came up to the car and knocked on the window. The door opened, and he slipped inside. Again, history repeated itself. 

"Oh Johnny it's so good to see you," my wife cooed. "Did you bring me a present?"

"You bet, Nancy Jean," said a familiar voice, one I had heard earlier in the evening in the men's room. "Nancy, I brought you this here lollipop. Remember it?"

My wife laughed. "Remember it, how could I forget it? It was a regular part of my younger days, and it supplied me with a lot of protein if I remember correctly!"

The two laughed, but not for long. Soon their talking had ended and my wife was slobbering and moaning over his cock while he was moving his lower half toward ecstasy. Nancy Jean was licking the velvet cock slowly up and down, then circling its head with her ovaled lips and sucking on it. She worked the tip, not taking an inch into her mouth, but the guy didn't complain. His head was back and his hands caressed my wife's head as he rocking inside her mouth.

"You want my cum on your face, Nancy Jean?" asked the excited man. "I'm gonna cum soon." 

She lifted her head off his cock.

"Do it, Johnny, shoot it on my face."

He obediently put his hand on his cock began jerking off. Up and down his hand caressed his dick before it ejaculated all over her face. As he lay back, exhausted, she kept rubbing the dick on her messy, sticky face. 

My wife, the world class fellatrix. A cum freak. The super-sucker of two millenniums. Hours ago it was me getting blowjob, now it seemed like the entire senior class was going to empty their gonads on my wife's face. 

Three more men were entertained by Nancy Jean's talented mouth before the ritual ended. I noticed that as she waited for each new arrival she would rub the sperm into her face, sometimes licking it off her fingers. Not one man had fucked her, surprisingly, and she never undressed. Only the guys disrobed in the sweaty back seat of the car, and each left with a huge smile on his face.

The ordeal ended as it started, with Biff re-entering the car after the rest of the men had shot off their creamy loads in her wanton face. Biff unzipped his trousers before entering, easing down his pants once he slipped into the vehicle. This time he lay back against the door while Nancy Jean knelt on top of him, rather than merely bending over for the blowjob. She had to work double time, as the man had already shot his jism once. And work his cock she did, alternating sucks with licks on his well-cleaned dick. 

"You're an angel, Nancy Jean, you are an absolute great cock-sucker. So much better than my wife. Your mouth feels just like it did years ago, the best in the world." The man continued to marvel at my wife's oral talents, but I tuned out the words and just watched her actions. 

She was unbelievable. She never missed a beat, and seemingly never tired of the assault on her mouth. 

"Yummy. You taste so good Biff, you have made this a night to remember!" she purred in an understatement of huge proportions. "I've wanted this for so long."

And she got it, as Biff's cock erupted its hot sauce once again over her face. 

I'd seen enough, and this time I walked slowly back toward the hotel. Again I sat at the bar, quietly awaiting the arrival of my wife. My mind was a jumble of emotions, but sitting there my cock spouted a hard on from the thought of what she had done. I was pissed, amazed and shocked, all in one.

Soon Biff arrived in the room, and he joined his friends --- undoubtedly each a blowjob recipient --- and tossed down a beer. A bit later, after stopping off in the ladies room I surmised, Nancy Jean re-entered the hall to a round of applause from the men. 

Men leered, wives looked on with questioning eyes.

My wife smiled, looked around the room and spotted me, and strode over. The look on her face was priceless, but I couldn't detect any embarrassment. Her face was made up, with no telltale signs of recent activities. Her dress, however, was another matter. There were several wet spots above her breasts on the dress, and a noticeable stain on a sleeve.

"Hi honey, have you been back long?" she asked.

"A little bit, where have you been?" I inquired. "I've missed you."

She looked at me and bent over to kiss my cheek. I could smell soap, but there was an air of cum along her ears. 

"Oh, I was just freshening up," she said. "And catching up on old times with some of the guys. They haven't changed a bit over the years. Then, clumsy me, I spilled stuff all over my dress and had to get soda water to clean it off."

No, I thought to myself, the guys hadn't changed.

Apparently neither has my wife.

My wife Nancy Jean was and is still undoubtedly the Blowjob Queen of Ridley High.

I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 02



In the story, "I Married a Blow Job Queen", I reluctantly told the tale about my wife, Nancy Jean, and her proclivity to sample an assortment of cocks. I learned that she was very orally active in her younger days, and those trait, unbeknownst to be, continued outside the matrimonial bedroom. Please take the time to read that tale before reading this follow-up story, which deals with the months after my capturing her in the act. 

Feel free to send feedback. Many of you wrote after reading the original story that my wife was a worthless whore, while others said she had a problem she couldn't possibly deal with. Some told me to immediately leave her, while others said she surely loved me but needed help with her problem. Whatever your thoughts, here's the next installment about my wife Nancy Jean, the Blow Job Queen. 

Shocked and humiliated. Those feelings raced through my body, keeping me awake. Nancy Jean, the Blow Job Queen, was my wife. MY wife. And she was still down there at the reunion, with Ridley High's "finest".

Earlier I demanded she tell all. I wanted to hear all the details. Names, places, how, when, why. I wanted to wallow in her shame.

Nancy Jean had licked, sucked and blown her way through high school. Not content with that feat, she continued blowing her way through college right up to our wedding day. She even admitted to having blown her best friend's husband the day of our nuptials, in the church cloakroom, no less. 

Even being married couldn't stop her. I caught her sucking and licking at least five men at our 10th high school reunion. They probably weren't the only ones. Everyone knew about Nancy Jean. Or should I say, nearly everyone but me until that fateful night. No wonder all the women at the reunion whispered as Nancy Jean walked by.

My wife had been a common slut in high school, opening her mouth to nearly any cock All it took was a nice car, dinner, movie and some sweet talking and lo and behold, Nancy Jean would be in the back seat, sucking to the beat of the radio, at a drive-in movie, a secluded lakeside setting or even in front of her parent's home giving her date a good night suck off. 

My "sweet and innocent" schoolteacher wife apparently loved the danger of being caught almost as much as the act itself. I lie on our hotel bed that night, mad as hell, at her and at me. I couldn't believe my mind and my body was going off in such divergent manners. My mind swirled from hatred to disgust, while my body, specifically my cock, rose to a heightened state of hardness. I pictured my wife blowing various guys, some friends, some foes, some I didn't even know. I "saw" her on her knees, sucking the dicks, big ones, small ones, thick ones, thin ones. I envisioned her kneeling above men, bouncing her head up and down on rock hard cocks. 

I flashed back to my eyewitness, no way to explain her way out of it, account of her reunion activities. Of her sucking an assortment of guys, of her admitting to me that she had blew Biff, the football star, on the day of our wedding less than I kissed her first the first time as her husband. I learned she bad orally satisfied my best friend Connor on the night of my bachelor party. It didn't matter that the guys had gotten me a stripper that night, that I had received a blow job of my own. Once does not make a habit, and my dear wife had a habit of blowing men like the wind blows sails.

I stormed out of our room and slammed the door behind me. There was another hotel a few blocks up, a place where I knew I could be alone and think. The desk clerk flinched when I threw my credit card at her to pay for the night. I was too angry to be polite.

It was not a night for fitful sleep. The truth be told, I don't think I slept more than a couple hours. But I do admit to having jerked off twice while thinking of Nancy Jean's exploits. My mind kept flashing back to the reunion, of my wife's leaving the festivities and ending up in the back seat of car, servicing a parade of horny men. Men who shot off in her mouth and on her face, some of them more than once. I kept envisioning her mouth wrapped around a bulging cock, sucking the cum out of it with abandon. With no shame. With nary a single thought that she might caught by passerby, much less by her surprised husband. But I did see, I did catch her, I did observe her wanton ways.

I returned to the Embassy Suites late the next morning. Nancy Jean was resting on the desk, her head buried in her arms. She looked up as I entered the room, and her tear and who knows what else stained face told of little sleep. As soon as she saw me, the tears started to flow again.

"I'm so very sorry Jonathan, I'm so sorry," she quietly said. "I, I, I…" Words didn't want to escape the mouth that had served as the receptacle for so many cocks.

"Pppplease don't leave me, Jon, I love you," she stammered.

"Love me," I spat. "That's how you show you love someone, by sucking on any cock you can find? Have you no shame? What do I look like?"

I wanted to strike her, make her feel pain, but somehow while looking at her dishelved, beaten form a calm came over me. I almost felt sorry for her.

Over the next several hours we spoke of her terrible acts, the nasty things she had done. We talked about the men she had blown, and she told me she had know idea of why she did the deeds. She said some of the guys she had loved, some of them she had used, and others were merely quick and near anonymous nocturnal meetings. She knew she had done terrible things, that she had this unexplained need for cock. Nancy Jean had sucked big cocks, small ones, thick ones and thin ones. She called it an addiction, and it truly sounded like that was the case when she admitted to sucking at least 75 cocks in her young life. 

Through it all I had to admit to myself that I loved this woman, that she was a loving wife, that she was a great mother, and that she had a serious addiction. She clearly had an oral fixation. 

Now what? That was the only thing she said to me later that night. 

"What are we going to do now, Jon? Now what?" she quietly said, faced with the reality that our relationship was teetering on a dangerous seesaw. "I love you, I truly love you."

I knew she did. But I didn't know if I could deal with the fact that my wife had sucked off scores of men since turning 18, that she had cheated on me with her mouth since our marriage, and that I had witnessed her blowing an assortment of men at our reunion. I had kissed that mouth a thousand times, the same mouth which had sucked on numerous dicks. 

We decided to spend some time apart, she at her parent's home, me at our home, and speak after a week. That agreed upon truce didn't last long, as two days into it I frantically called Nancy Jean and asked, maybe even begged, her to come home. I told her I hated her for what she did, but loved her as a special soulmate who has been so supportive of me over the years. 

That night Nancy Jean and I held each other all night long. No sex, just a cuddling couple who needed each other. We spoke of love, of needs, of our future. She couldn't promise to be totally faithful. She said she had needs and they had nothing to do with my satisfying her in the sack. She needed the danger, the debauchery, and the control of having her way with multiple partners. On one hand, she wanted me to be faithful. On the other, she wanted something I just couldn't give…at least in the perverse manner she desired.

The next morning, after soul searching and arguing with myself, I agreed that I would deal with her needs. But, if I were to do so, there would be some ground rules. First, I needed to know in advance of when and where she'd be searching for the "hose" to quell her special fire. I didn't want to find out she'd been picked up by the cops or beaten by a lover or any such Enquirer thing. Second, none of her partners could be from our town or known to me. I didn't want the humiliation of a co-worker coming up and telling me what a great cocksucker my wife was. It was bad enough that our classmates and many of their wives knew she blew for sport. That was enough notoriety.

Third, no sex with any of her guys. Her pussy and ass were off-limits. Only her mouth was available for action. And finally, she was not to blow a bare cock. She was not to swallow any cum, she would not allow any of her lovers to spurt off onto her face. Each of her blow jobs would be on a condom sheathed cock.

Both of us realized it was not a negotiation but an ultimatum, and Nancy Jean quickly agreed to the terms.

"Just a second, honey, one more thing."

"What."

"If you do act on any of these urges, I want you to save the spent condoms and bring them home as proof you didn't swallow…and I want you to be sure to give me sex that night and once more the next day."

Nancy Jean simply smiled, then agreed to my demands. 

I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know whether she, or I for that matter, would hold up our end of the bargain. I hated the idea that she'd be seeing other guys, but I was terrified that she would find she didn't need me. 

Two weeks later I received a call at work.

"Honey, are you playing golf tomorrow?"

"Uh huh, and then Bill and I are going to the Phillies game," I casually replied. "Why?"

There was a silent pause. . .one that should have immediately informed me of the inevitable.

"I was thinking I would head up to King of Prussia, and, uh, well…"

"You mean?" I asked.

"Yes. I think I will take you up on your offer and maybe act on it."

The die was cast, and there was no telling what would happen next. Would she do it, would she go through with it, would she find a partner? I wondered throughout the next day. Along about one a.m. I had my answer. Nancy Jean entered our bedroom, looking ruffled and rumpled, holding a baggie with something sticky inside.

"Hi honey, I'm home," she said with a nervous smile, attempting to get at least a chuckle from me. "I did as you asked. He was from Pottstown, he has no idea who I am, he used a condom and the evidence is right here."

Sure enough the baggie had a load of what looked to be cum inside. Nancy Jean's hair was a mess and her makeup smeared. "Did you enjoy yourself?" 

She looked at me for a moment before nodding her head yes.

I told her to lie down on the bed and close her eyes, which she did. I tweaked open the baggie, then turned it upside down over her face. The creamy liquid slithered down, with splotches sticking to her face. I told her to rub it in, which she slowly did.

As she massaged the glob of slimy man goo into her face I stepped back and dropped my pants, springing my cock into the open. I crouched over her head, pointing my dick at her mouth, then pushed down into the moist opening. 

"Umm," she cooed, sucking my dick into her wet mouth. 

It was not to be a slow blowjob; rather, I fucked her face. In and out I pushed and pulled, deeper and deeper with each stroke as she got the rhythm of it. As the cum on her face began to dry I moved my ass a little harder, feeling my dick twitch in her moist mouth. 

It wasn't long before a load began to boil deep in my scrotum. Nancy Jean reached around to hold my ass cheeks, pulling my middle toward her mouth. My pubic hair came in contact with her nose as my dick was embedded in her mouth. It was a spectacular blowjob, and soon she was receiving the fruits of our labor, a fresh load of pent up manly semen. Her husband's.

I came with a grunt, emptying everything I could muster into her mouth. She swallowed and swallowed, sending the sticky substance down her throat and to her stomach. We stared into each others eyes as my cock exploded then began to shrink. My wife cleaned my cock before both of us turned over and went into a fitful sleep.

The next morning saw me fuck my wife with abandon, not holding a bit of energy back. She came twice before I did, and never did we mention the activities of the night before.

In the six months since our reconciliation, Nancy Jean has blown eight guys. Each was a one-night stand, each shot his load in a souvenir condom. I know, I have them in a plastic container holder. I deposit them there after squeezing the foul contents onto her face and having her rub it in until dry. Then I normally fuck her doggie style as not to get any other the other men's goo on me. Sometimes I spank her ass while I am doing her, since she's such a bad girl.

There are times I can't believe I've agreed to continue to be married to such a slut, but there is some sort of perverse pride to think of myself as the Husband of the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High.



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 03



People, by their nature, have a voyeuristic streak in them.

They see flashing lights and slow down, crawling along the highway while stretching their necks in an effort to look at the blood and gore.

Guys ogle girls, girls check out guys. There’s a little bit of voyeurism in everyone.

I’m a normal guy. I’ve attempted to look up a few dresses and down a few blouses in my day. Once I walked past a car in the parking lot of an Olive Garden and caught a glimpse of a couple making out. I slipped into my car and observed the couple break their embrace, look around and struggle into the back seat where they began making love. I couldn’t help watching. I’m human. 

Last weekend I saw a girl giving my best friend Steve a hummer. They were in the living room of my house of all places. And while I have that voyeuristic streak, this Kodak moment was anything but tantalizing. 

How could it be? The girl in question was my wife.

The nerve of that girl! For those who have read the first two installments of this saga, you know I found out at a high school reunion that my darling wife Nancy Jean was known as the Blowjob Queen of Ridley High. Her reputation was gone faster than a lead balloon falls from the sky. I caught her in the act at that reunion, learning that my darling, loving, schoolteacher wife of 10 years was a slut.

Nancy Jean begged me to stay with her, told me how much she loved me, and explained about her unnatural urges. In a nutshell, the woman loved to suck cock. She needed to suck cock. Mine wasn’t enough, she required variety.

Because of the children, we stayed together. I did love her, and knew deep inside she loved me, so although I did not grin, I did bear it.

I swallowed my pride and allowed her to satisfy her needs, as long as she followed the rules. Those rules were simple. She wasn't allowed to rub my nose it, and she couldn't play around where she might be recognized. She could not suck off men who I knew, or dealt with in business. The "cock-of-the-night" had to wear a condom, and she had to bring the used condom home in a plastic baggie. She had to tell me all the sordid details after showing me the plastic baggie.

For the last two years things had gone along swimmingly. She had blown a few guys, sucking on their condom covered dicks, and then told me all about it when she returned home. On some of those occasions she sucked my dick, but normally she’d jerk me off while telling the details of her naughty rendezvous. Every once in a while I would slip it in from behind and fuck her while she grunted out her sordid tale.

Until today, that is. Today Steve was coming over to help me install a ceiling fan. Nancy Jean asked me to go over to Home Depot for some gardening items, and a power screwdriver while I was at it. Unfortunately, I forgot my wallet and had to return home before entering the store. Was I in for a surprise? Uh huh.

I entered the house and stopped when I heard the telltale groans coming from the living room.

“Oh yea, Nancy Jean, suck it!” came the passionate manly howl. “Suck my dick!”

They obviously hadn’t heard me enter the house, and I stole my way toward the living room, knowing in advance what I would find. I wasn’t wrong, and boy was I disappointed. There was Nancy Jean, kneeling on the couch with her head bobbing up and down on good old Steve’s rock hard cock. 

He had lifted her skirt above her ass, and had her panties pulled down around her thighs. Steve’s fingers were diddling her pussy while his midsection bounced into her face. 

“Eat it baby, lick it too,” horny Steve begged my compliant wife. “Oh, you are one helluva cocksucker.”

Nancy Jean was attacking Steve’s cock like a dog chases after a tasty bone. She had her hand around the base of the dick, stroking it into her mouth. After a few minutes she pulled her head off of the cock but never slowed her stroking hand. 

“You have a great cock, Steve,” panted my wife, taking his dick out of her mouth and looking up into his rolling eyes. “But you have to cum soon, Jon will be home any minute!”

Steve’s answer was simple. He placed a hand on the top of Nancy Jean’s head and pulled it back down on his throbbing cock. He reached down with his other hand and placed it on top of hers, and the two jerked off his dick in tandem with the bobbing head. He kept nailing her mouth with his dick, pushing his own head back and closing his eyes as Nancy Jean focused on the task at hand.

“You’re the best cocksucker I’ve ever had, Nancy Jean. Oh yea, uh huh, you are great, you bitch. I love it when you suck my dick.”

Obviously this wasn’t an initial breakdown of our most recent vows. Steve must have been using my wife’s talented mouth right under my nose. Maybe after a round of golf or before we went bowling with Steve and his wife Kellee. Has this woman no shame? Has this man no honor?

His words sparked me back toward the affair at hand. “Oh yea I’m coming. Take it you bitch!” wailed the man who was supposed to be my best friend. “Suck it down you whore!”

Nancy Jean performed her own wet, sloppy, mind-numbing, toe curling method of fellatio. She was an expert cocksucker, as I and most of her old classmates could attest. She was breaking her promise to me, but there wasn’t much I could do at this point. I had caught her in the act, but couldn’t propel myself into the room to confront them. 

Of course I should have sped into the room and pelleted them with an avalanche of slaps, punches and screams. I could have yelled and hollered. Yet my feet were glued to the floor.

Steve bucked back and pulled Nancy Jean’s mouth off his still-throbbing dick. He jerked his cock several times, finally grunting and sending a greasy glob of sperm to line my wife’s face. Another rope emerged from his cock before she capped his spurting dick and sucked the sauce into her mouth. 

I quietly stole outside and sat in my car for a couple minutes before slamming the car door and heading back to my house.

Yelling to the neighborhood that I was home, I closed the front door and slowly walked into the living room. Nancy Jean came into the room and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Hi honey,” she said, an air of sex around her. Looking closely I could swear she hadn’t even washed the cum off her sticky face. She quickly turned and walked toward the basement. “Steve’s here…I’m getting some laundry.”

Steve emerged from the bathroom and came into the living room, a guilty look upon his face. Why not? I had nearly, in his mind, caught them in the act. I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t look either in the eyes, so I went into the kitchen to grab a couple beers. “I forgot my wallet and never did get that stuff at the store. But we can still install the fan.”

That thought only lasted a bit, as Steve begged off saying he wasn’t feeling well. Yea, I suspect he was drained.

When Nancy Jean emerged from the basement her face was white as freshly fallen snow. No fuss, no muss, no caked sperm on the whore’s cheeks. I was so mad, yet I felt helpless. I knew if I said anything we’d end up in a rip-roaring brawl, so I kept it to myself and when on with my business of the day. I finally got to the store, the ceiling fan got installed, and somehow she knew I suspected something, given the tension in house.

Humiliation brought blood flowing to my face that night as I remembered what my wife had done. I thought back at how she promised she’d change, but she clearly hadn’t. She was still sneaking around, sucking the dicks of people who knew me, people I trusted. It was obvious I couldn’t trust her, even with giving her the freedom to satisfy her guttural urges with men I would never know. No, she had to do it with someone who I dealt with all the time, my best friend. 

Throughout the night I would sleep for a bit then find myself awake, thinking about all of the slutty conquests she had made. The ones before we were married were understandable to a point, but those wicked trysts, like the parade of guys she blew at our 10th reunion, were not. And now today my not so darling wife showed me what an unreformed slut she was. 

Somewhere between nightmares number 4 and 5 I made my decision. I just couldn’t live with the situation any longer. Nancy Jean may be adorable and wonderful 25 ways 'til Tuesday, but her desire to use her mouth as a sperm receptacle was her choice. It was a decision I didn’t have to like. Or live with anymore. My decision to divorce her and use my knowledge of her unfaithfulness would not impact the settlement.

The next day at work, I thought about how I would tell Nancy Jean of my decision. In the midst of this deliberation my boss, Richard, walked into my office.

“Hi, Jon, how was your weekend?” he said with a strange, almost forced, smile.

I couldn’t tell him how I really felt, so I babbled something about it being okay. Not one to beat around the bush, Richard looked me over and asked if I would like a bigger office, who which I replied something to the effect of: “Who wouldn’t?”

To make a long story short, he said he’d decided to recommend me for the Department Manager position that had been open for about a month. All that was required is that the Division President give the promotion his okay, which Richard thought would be a mere formality. “You are the best qualified for the job, and I know you will do a good job. Oh, by the way, everything is okay on the home front, right? No surprises there, I hope, because you know how much Mr. Connors feels about family values and all that.”

I merely nodded, wondering if he knew that Nancy Jean was up to her old tricks with Steve. Maybe he was merely suspicious? My brain was sending all kind of messages from the left side to the right as he turned and left the room. I thought of the promotion, the dollars and company car that would come with it. Then it went over to the fact that I’d throw that all away if I went into divorce court with Nancy Jean. Or if the upper echelon at work knew of her oral addiction.

That night Nancy Jean was the perfect wife. Dinner was on the table when I arrived home, along with a nice Cabernet Sauvignon. She told me of her great day at school, how she had papers to grade that night, but wondered if she should slip into something “comfortable” after dinner or later that night. 

I told her later was fine, and that the French Maid outfit would be perfect. Sure enough she greeted me in that attire when I made my way to the bedroom after SportsCenter. Somewhere along the line that night I decided, divorce or not, that I was going to use the little woman as my own little whore that night, and I did. Nancy Jean told me how much she loved me in between licks of my cock. She jerked my dick for a while, sloppily sucked it, bringing me to near orgasm before sliding onto her back. While I loved her blowjobs, I kept thinking that so many had been in the same situation, and it was sometimes a turnoff knowing my darling wife had sucked so many dicks. 

I was happy to get on top of her and rub my dick up and down her wet slit. I teased a bit, then pulled back before firing my dick at her hole. For the next several minutes I fucked her like there was no tomorrow. I rutted her hard, thrusting deeply into her in an effort to expel all the shame I had at her transgressions. I couldn’t bring myself to kiss her, as who knew whose cum would still be in that oral cavity. Still, I humped her hard. I’m not sure it helped my hatred of her oral activities, but when I emptied my load in her I knew that at least for that moment I had her totally to myself. 

I wanted to confront her about Steve, but thought better of it. I had to decide if the promotion meant more than my self-esteem. In the morning I realized it did. I wanted the job, I wanted the money, and I wanted the car. 

The next evening I confronted Nancy Jean about Steve, and she was shocked I knew. She told me it had been going on for about three months, that she had only blown him, but that, yes, he refused to use a condom so the half dozen times he used her mouth she swallowed his cum sauce. She said she couldn’t help herself, it was so hot and exciting, but that she had cut it off after that close call over the weekend. I told her I was glad she cut it off, but that she couldn’t be doing any of her nocturnal activities anymore. When I told her of the potential promotion, she nodded her head in agreement.

The following week my promotion was announced, and Nancy Jean unexpectedly told me over a celebratory dinner that she wouldn’t be seeing men outside the area any more, that I was the focus of her attention. The fact she committed to be faithful was comforting. Somehow, I found a way to believe her. 

It was a mistake.

Oh, things went along great for several months. There were no telltale signs of her transgressions, no strange calls late at night, no unusual behavior. She didn’t ask for a night on the town, she was wonderful in the bedroom. She seemed very content and was very proud of my new role at the company. Everything seemed well. 

My new position required me to travel a couple times a month to our field offices, generally just a one or two night stay. I was worried that Nancy Jean might be up to something, so much so that I would call her each night to check on her whereabouts…which was really not necessary because I had two security cameras installed at the house which captured each of the entrances to the house. So unless someone was slipping in through a window, I knew who was coming and going. And no men were visiting. The odometer on her car didn’t show any abnormal use, she was always at school or home at the appointed times, and I truly thought she was over her oral cravings.

My job was fantastic, and my boss a gem. He gave me plenty of rope to run my operation, and was constantly praising our bottom line. Twice he took me to “his club” where he introduced me as one of the company’s rising stars. Nancy Jean and I had dined several times with the Johnsons, Richard and his lovely wife Samantha. I’d have to say that first year on the job was one of the most satisfying years I’d had. Nancy Jean and I had grown closer, her job was good, mine great, and our personal life wonderful. Or so I thought.

I was in Chicago, battling the winds, on a quick business trip in March about a year after getting my promotion. There were several business meetings during the day, but as was my custom I called my boss about 4 p.m. to fill him in on the details of the day. Richard wasn’t very talkative that day, in retrospect I should have known something was amiss, as he couldn’t seem to hold a conversation. Several times I had to ask, then re-ask, a question. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was hitting the sauce, but figured it was just a cold or a headache or something that was causing his mind to wander.

I called Nancy Jean that night and told her I’d be home the in two days. She was especially nice to me, and said she couldn’t wait to see me. The next day there was a change in plans, as several of the customers we were to meet cancelled, and I flew back home early. Since it was still early, I went to the office and was surprised to see Nancy Jean’s car in the parking lot in my spot. Confused, I went to my office and asked where my wife was. Carol, my secretary, had a confused look on her face, and said she hadn’t seen Nancy Jean in a couple weeks. 

“Couple weeks ago? But I was in Phoenix,” I said, “you must mean last month when she met me for lunch.”

“No, it was a couple weeks ago. She must have stopped in to pick something up, because I saw her in the hallway,” said my secretary.

I had no idea of why she would have been in the building, or why her car was in the parking lot right now, but soon I found out. I was walking to the lunchroom to grab a cup of coffee when I ran into Mrs. Perkins, Mr. Johnson’s secretary. The look on her face was full of surprise, and when I asked if I could see my boss she quickly said he was busy. Mrs. Perkins face reddened as she said it, and my mind immediately thought the worse.

I looked the woman in the eyes. I had long been one of her favorites around the building, and she would regularly get Nancy Jean and I company hockey and theater tickets. “Mrs. Perkins…. what is it?”

She looked at me and began to cry. “It’s, it’s, well, it’s just not right,” said the woman. “It’s not right what they are doing. I feel sorry for you but also…”

The woman began sobbing, and I offered her my handkerchief. After she regained some sense of composure, I asked: “What’s not right?”

The woman looked at the floor, then at me. “Mr. Johnson and your wife. It was bad enough when they’d go for a drive at lunchtime, but whenever you are away they do it right here in his office. It’s disgusting. It’s wrong.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Tears came to my eyes as the woman relayed the story of the sordid affair. She was embarrassed to tell all the details, but I begged and pleaded for all the information. Mrs. Perkins said that Nancy Jean and Mr. Johnson had been seeing each other since before my promotion, a fact they disguised from others at the company but not the boss’ secretary.

She said she had suspicions early on, as her boss began taking extended lunches and was behind “closed doors” with my wife. But it wasn’t until Mr. Johnson accidentally left his dictating record in the “on” position that the evidence was undeniable. 

The woman told me to head to my office, and that she’d drop a package off in a few minutes. The package consisted of a small tape cassette, very similar to the one I used. “I’m sorry I had to break this to you, but it really is disgusting what they are doing. She was up there today, behind closed doors, and I can just imagine what they were up to. And yesterday when you called in from Chicago she was in there too, probably doing some of that,” she said, nodding to the tape. “Please don’t tell anyone where you got that. I need my job.”

I stared blankly at the tape and nodded, thanking her for the tape and wondering how many others knew of my wife’s indiscretions? I’d hear snickers from time to time, but I truly thought Nancy Jean was being true. About 10 minutes into the tape I realized how wrong I was. Oh, the tape started with a lot of general business dictation, a couple items of basic correspondence and some fine-tuning of a report. It wasn’t until I heard a bit of shuffling and the sound of a button being pushed that my suspicions were confirmed. 

“Ah, Mrs. Roberts, so good of you to drop by,” said my boss; loud enough for anyone near his office to hear. “Did you bring the list of issues for our charity event? Thank you so much for working on this…. Mrs. Perkins, please don’t disturb us while we are working on this project, Mrs. Roberts’ time is valuable and I want to get her on the road as quickly as possible.”

I could hear the door closing, and some movement around the room, but it wasn’t until I heard my wife’s voice that I knew what was coming next. 

Mr. Johnson!

“Hi Richard, busy day today? Too busy for me?” It wasn’t the best of recordings, but that voice undoubtedly belonged to my wife. “I have to get back to the school by 1, so we don’t have much time. But I wanted to stop by and say, uh, hi.”

My boss laughed, and barely hesitated before telling Nancy Jean to get on with it. My mind didn’t hesitate for a second in understanding what “on with it” meant. I couldn’t hear a zipper sliding open, but I did hear what my wife said.

“Oh, you’re so big, Richard, your big dick is already hard for me!”

“No, you can make it harder, m’dear. Suck it!”

“Gladly…I love sucking your dick.” My wife was apparently in the midst of blowing my boss, and while I couldn’t see it I could envision it due to the near play-by play description given by my boss. 

“Oh, baby, you are a great cocksucker…that’s it, that’s it, lick the underside. Now the balls, please, lick my balls. Oh yes, like that.”




I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 03



“Mmmmm.”

“Jerk it while you suck it, honey, oh yea, more like that. Oh that’s so wonderful. I love your mouth on my cock,” said the horny man. “I have to sit down or you’ll give me a heart attack….no, no, stay on your knees, Mrs. Roberts. Come over here. Now get up on the couch.”

There was some movement, and my wife apparently knelt on the couch in Mr. Johnson’s office I had sat on countless times myself. 

“We don’t have long,” she panted.

“Then suck, woman, suck,” was his practiced reply. 

The man moaned a little and commented on my wife’s cocksucking technique. He loved it. Who didn’t? He also loved my wife’s ass, as he apparently was playing with it while getting sucked off. 

“You have a nice ass, Mrs. Roberts. Oh yes, and I love your garters and stockings. It is so hot having you suck my dick in such an outfit. Women today wear that darn pantyhose, which is a shame. Your stockings look great on you. You must drive your students nuts when you bend over.”

“Muffsleskl. Thsamrl Yoou.” My wife said something with the man’s dick in her mouth, but whatever she said was not discernable. I think she was thanking him for the compliment, but who knows?

The man began pleading for my wife not to stop sucking his dick. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Roberts, oh yes. You make my dick so big. You suck my cock like a pro. Go, baby, yes. Suck my big dick. Suck it.”

Apparently he loved it, because it wasn’t long before I heard the telltale words. “Oh yes, I’m cumming. Yes!!! Swallow it all, you cocksucker. Suckkkkit.”

I couldn’t hear much for a couple minutes, but apparently the cheating twosome were making themselves presentable. They made some small talk, he thanked her at least twice for being so accommodating, and told her he’d like a replay over the weekend.

“But Jon will be home!” 

“Make an excuse to go shopping for a bit, it won’t be long. Samantha is going to her mother’s Saturday afternoon and I’d like us to get together. I don’t want to wait until next week to have your lips around my cock. Call me on my cell phone and give me a time, okay? I can’t wait for you to suck my dick again, but I do have to get to a meeting now!”

I heard the door open and Mr. Johnson talk to his secretary about heading to his meeting. The last words I heard were he thanking my wife for her “hard work” on the special project. Special project indeed!

I should have known it. Once a cocksucker, always a cocksucker. There was a reason my wife had been known as the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High. I just didn’t know it until after we were married, and I surely thought she was over it. Apparently not, because even after threatening to leave her, even after agreeing to special conditions for her to stray from our martial bed, you name it, she still betrayed me with my best friend, with my boss and who knows whom else. She might have blow the division president to get my promotion. Maybe sucked off the entire board of directors. 

With the help of Mrs. Perkins I was clued into when the lying twosome would get together. They never met for more than an hour at the office, normally 30 minutes or less. Sometimes they had a lunch rendezvous, where my wife would blow the old geezer right in his Cadillac. How they were never caught was a mystery, although my guess was that they had been spied on at one time or another. Heck, giving a guy a blowjob in his car in a restaurant parking lot or mall garage during broad daylight is bound to draw an accidental voyeur. 

Mrs. Perkins told me that the two were having lunch at Frank’s Diner one Wednesday, and I made a special trip back home that morning and actually watched the cheating twosome in action. They parked behind the diner, and after a quick lunch the two escaped to his car where she had a quick desert of cock au natural. She knelt on the passenger seat and dipped her head onto his lap, and while I couldn’t see the entire action I did see her head bobbing. After only a few minutes his head pushed back and his hand held her head. A minute later her head appeared and she wiped something off her lips. I didn’t need a picture to know what happened.

That afternoon Mr. Johnson called me into his office and told me I was doing a good job, and that I had a wonderful wife who was willing to go the extra mile to get things done on the charity event. I thanked him, but what I really wanted to do was beat the living crap out of him. That didn’t happen, though, as the almighty dollar was too important to me. But after my second sparkling performance appraisal and a promotion to district manager, I felt it was time to end the charade.

It was a Saturday, and I would bet dollars to donuts that my wife had been with Mr. Johnson, or someone with an active dick, that afternoon. This woman arrived home having blown someone that day, and it wasn’t me. My bastard boss had probably heard from my wife and got his cock cleaned and drained by her talented lips. I calmly sat her down and handed her the divorce papers, complete with a transcript of the tape and several copies of incriminating photos I had a private detective take. Those items, along with several candid interviews of some of her past conquests made a tidy package, and she couldn’t suck her way out of this predicament. 

I wasn’t a totally vindictive man. I realized I had allowed some of the escapades to occur. I made her my offer of a settlement and she readily accepted. She got the house and a small monthly stipend, which, when added to her schoolteacher’s pay made ends meet. She wasn’t living the high life, but she wasn’t destitute. 

I moved to an apartment near work and devoted myself to the job. Never once did I confront the boss, who Mrs. Perkins believed was living in fear that I would disclose his indiscretions to his lovely life Samantha. I didn’t, though, preferring to have him wait and wonder, knowing I had him by the balls. Heck my wife had him by the balls, literally, while I merely had him figuratively. 

Ultimately he took a different job with the company while I was promoted to his slot. It was great to know that dear Mrs. Perkins, his secretary for more than 20 years, refused to go with the man to his new assignment, choosing to remain in friendlier confines as my assistant. 

Irony of ironies occurred about a year later when Mrs. Perkins buzzed me. “Mrs. Roberts to see you, sir.”

Mrs. Roberts? There is no Mrs. Roberts anymore. But there was, as my ex-wife appeared at the door late one Friday afternoon. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would drop by. Could we talk? In private?” she added, nodding at the door. 

I figured she wouldn’t bite, so I shut the door and sat on the couch next to her.

“I know you are busy, Jon, so I will get right to the point.” My ex-wife wove a tale of how the money was tight and that it was tough keeping up the house. She said she didn’t want to move, and wondered, pleaded, if I’d agree to a slight addition to her alimony check.

I told her she was in no position to be asking me such an outrageous question, and how it was she who had caused all the problems in our marriage. Years of cuckoldry had made me dislike the woman, as everyone in the Tri-State area, it seemed, knew that she was the easiest fellatrix in the Valley. 

The woman was shocked with my response, but soon that little smile crept into her eyes. “Couldn’t we come up with a little bit of an accommodation to help me out?” she cooed.

My ex-wife knew how to play to a crowd, and this crowd was in my pants. She slipped to her knees in front of me and opened my zipper. Reaching inside, she pulled out a hardening cock. “Oh, there’s my little monster. I’ve missed you!” she said with a smile, licking my mushrooming cock and rubbing it along her cheeks. Nancy Jean rubbed my dick, and then stroked it while looking up at me. “Couldn’t you help just a little insy winsy teenie weenie bit?” she cooed.

I was under the spell. “Suck it!” was my reply.

“Help me?” was hers.

The offer was too good for me to pass up, dislike or not. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you. Now suck it.”

And suck my cock she did. It didn’t matter that she was a blowjob queen, or that she had blown more than a hundred men while married to me. It didn’t matter that she had blown her way through high school, sucked my closest friend on the night of my bachelor party, and licked the dicks of my best friend and my boss. All that mattered this afternoon was she was sucking my dick. 

She blew me, and why not, it is what she does best. Love her or hate her, Nancy Jean Roberts is an outstanding cocksucker.

She sucked me, alternating slow, sensuous licks up, down and around my mushrooming cock. She stroked my rock-hard dick, jerking it off while looking me in the eyes. She kissed my bouncing balls, licked between my balls and my asshole. She quietly mouthed nasty words while stroking me, then slowly put my dick back into her mouth where she was content to bob her head up and down my shank. 

I hadn’t cum in a while, so my former wife was blasted with a quart of sticky cumsauce, most of which she took down her throat but some of which made its way to her cheeks. She stroked my dick against her face, rubbing the cum into her creamy skin. 

Looking down at her, I told her I had a meeting to get to, and she nodded her head in practiced understanding. She wiped her face with a Kleenex and started out the door, reminding me that she could use a boost in her monthly check.

I nodded, and told her she could seal the deal by visiting me in my office Wednesday afternoons after school. She nodded her agreement. 

Nancy Jean left the office and I picked up a couple folders from my desk. I straightened my tie, and then strode out of my office.

My secretary gave me a knowing look.

“Ah, Mrs. Perkins,” I said with some embarrassment. “Pencil in a weekly meeting with Mrs. Roberts for 4 p.m. on Wednesdays.”

“Yes sir!” she said with a smile, knowing full well what would happen at that meeting. “Will 15 minutes be enough, or should I block a half hour.”

“You know the drill, 15 minutes should be fine,” I replied. “Oh, and remind me to give you my tape recorder before that meeting, not after!”

We laughed at the little joke.



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 05



The first time Nancy Jean sucked my bulging dick I was thoroughly impressed. No novice mistakes, nicks or bites. Just a first class, best of breed, swallow it all, got to have more blow job. 

Later I learned her technique was honed through repetition. She liked to practice, lots of practice. 

Years later I unexpectedly found that Nancy Jean was the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High. She bobbed her head on many a cock; in back seats, front seats, football-stadium seats, you name it. If you were a guy you had a chance at having your cock visit her mouth. 

Still, in those early days, I didn't know all the details but I sure benefited from her expertise.

That was then, this is now. As mentioned in the first installments of this series, over time I not only enjoyed the fellatrix and her outstanding actions, but I also learned --- sometimes first hand --- that mine was not the only cock she sucked. I tried everything to keep our marriage together, but in time I had to break things off. 

Let's face it, the fact that your wife was sucking guys off with regularity isn't the foundation for a healthy marriage. She was addicted to cock, and it did not have to be mine, her loving husband. We broke things off and life went on. 

But as I've written, there is more to the story. Since my school teacher wife didn't escape marriage with much...even the most feminine judge wouldn't have given her the works given her track record, she came to me and asked for financial help to ensure she kept our former home before the mortgage company took it away.

I, knowing what her "assets" really were, agreed to help. And since that day I've had a regular weekly schedule of blow jobs in my office from my now ex-wife. Recently we'd backed down the frequency to an every other week schedule, but I have to tell you it is a king-like feeling to know that, like clockwork, er, clockwork, once every two weeks, my cock was going to be cleaned and polished by the pretty schoolteacher.

That's a story in itself, because I had actually married, and divorced, the woman twice. The joke my friends had was that three times was a charm, and we'd walk down the aisle again. But that was never going to happen. I had learned my lesson. Nancy Jean had special talents but being an adoring wife wasn't one of them.

Which brings us to last Thursday. Work that week had been unbearable, my girlfriend broke up with me, and I was in need of a pick-me-up. Some guys might like a beer, I liked my wife's sensuous lips, and this was the week I got to use them the way I liked. 

I looked forward to her visit, so much so I had my secretary block an extra few minutes. Mrs. Perkins advised me at lunch that I had to be in my bosses' office no later than 4:30, and that my meeting with my ex-wife had to be done by then. 

"It never takes real long, Jon, does it," said my secretary with a smile. 

The woman knew what went on behind my closed office door. Heck, she was the one who let me in on the fact that Nancy Jean had been giving my former boss blow jobs behind my back. Over the years Mrs. Perkins took a major dislike to my wife, who constantly gave her attitude and very little respect. 

On one occasion Mrs. Perkins told me that if she saw Nancy Jean outside the office she'd give her a piece of her mind. Nancy Jean was not on Mrs. Perkins' Christmas card list. But she was civil in the office. 

One night when we were working late, Mrs. Perkins asked me point-blank why I continued to cavort with my wife when so many other women were out there. 

"It's simple, Perk (my pet name for her), she has special talents." My secretary looked at me and shook her head. 

"Men! You all gush over nasty women!" Then she smiled and added, "I can't blame you, though. I bet it's humiliating for her to come here and, uh, you know, orally satisfy you." 

"Mrs. Perkins! Watch your mouth," I laughed. "Maybe we just talk in there behind closed doors." 

Now it was her turn to laugh. "If that's the case remember to leave your speaker off. It's a good thing I was here a couple weeks ago when you accidentally left it on. It was quite, uh, interesting listening to that little escapade. Your wife really gets into giving head, and you never let up letting her know what a slut she is. And that woman is a real slut." 

Now it was my turn to blanche. I had no idea she had heard my wife giving me a blow job, but I was very glad she ensured nobody else was able to listen. 

"You know, Jon, she really treated you so bad for years, I think it's great you are doing what you're doing. She deserves the humiliation. She could have ruined your life. I was thinking of her, doing what she was doing to you in there, and I have to admit I enjoyed listening. Not because of the sex, but because over the years she has been, well, mean to me and having you lord over her, humiliating her with your talk, seeing her come out embarrassed, makes me feel great." 

I hadn't known my ex-wife had been such a bitch to Mrs. Perkins, and I was determined to make Nancy Jean pay. 

Four o'clock couldn't come fast enough. I was going to get my cock sucked.

* * * 

Mrs. Perkins buzzed me at 3:40 when Nancy Jean arrived. My ex-wife looked precious in her demure outfit. Blue dress, nice nude stockings which I knew were thigh hi from my insistence, and black pumps. The woman looked business like and pretty at the same time. 

Nancy Jean entered and we engaged in a little small talk until I moved things on my mentioning the upcoming meeting with my boss. I walked over to my door, thought of locking it, and then moved back toward my desk. Normally we'd move to my office couch where I could get comfortable, but today I had a different idea.

I slowly unzipped my tailored suit pants, dropped them to my ankles, and sat in my office chair. 

"Here you go, Nancy Jean, come and get it." 

My ex-wife shook her head and said it would be nice if I treated her better. I replied that she had a job to do, and it was time for her to do it. 

As she moved around the desk I asked her why she treated Mrs. Perkins so poorly, and my ex-wife surprised me with her response. 

"She's just an old bitch with a fat ass," said Nancy Jean, dropping to her knees and working my underwear down my thighs. "She's always so prim and proper, and I know she told you about my indiscretions. She didn't have to, she could have kept quiet. Every time I come in she sort of looks down at me." 

Nancy Jean began her oral assault on my dick, spending several minutes licking up and down my cock. The girl could make a man cringe with her mouth. She savored cock, any cock. 

"Well, Nancy Jean, you have a reputation as a blow job queen, remember. And your deeds were the reason we're divorced," I sternly reminded my ex-wife as I began thrusting into her mouth. 

The fact that Nancy Jean could disrespect my secretary ticked me off and I began holding my ex-wife's head closely against my dick. Normally Nancy Jean took her time, licked a lot, and then sucked my dick off, but today my new-found knowledge of her treatment of Mrs. Perkins ensured my thrusts were a little more emphatic. 

I held her head in my hands and pounded away at her mouth until she gagged. I backed off then, smiled down at her, and then let her do her thing. While she was sucking me I glanced at my telephone and ensured the speaker to my secretary was in the on position. 

"You know, Nancy Jean, you are a great cocksucker. Looking at you I'm imagining all the cocks you've sucked over the years, and here you are sucking mine again. What have you sucked, 50 cocks? Or more than that?"

Her response was muffled because my dick was in her mouth, but sounded like "more", so I asked if it was 75, 100 or more.

She nodded her head as she sucked my cock, affirming what I already knew. The sucking slut had sucked off more than 100 men. Amazing. I can't believe I had married the women, loved her, heck, kissed her. She had a mouth not even her mother could love, unless she was like this...on her knees sucking my throbbing cock. 

Nancy Jean rolled her fingers around my dick and started stroking as she sucked the tip. She alternated strokes with a sort of turning of her hand. "The girl knows how to please a man," I thought. 

Her sensitive yet deliberate hand actions combined with her sucking mouth was fantastic. She was never in a hurry. She had the innate ability to blanket my dick with her mouth, alternative a slow, steady suck with licks and kisses. She would build it up then level off, extending the exquisite feelings.

But when she wanted to make you cum, she'd tighten her lips, squeezing the cock with her hands and lips. Her hand would jerk while her lips sucked, bringing me higher and higher and enticing the cum from my balls.

"It's a shame Mrs. Perkins couldn't see you sucking my cock, Nancy Jean. I bet that would be a shocker!" 

When my ex-wife didn't respond, I did. "Mrs. Perkins, please come in here." 

I think Nancy Jean was thinking I was just talking about a fantasy. Of course I wouldn't have someone come into my office and catch us in the act. Thinking about it my balls began to boil and the cum started to explode from my cock.

Again I held Nancy Jean's head in my hand and rocked in and out of her sucking mouth. Mrs. Perkins entered my office and asked if I was alright. 

"Alright? Of course, Nancy Jean is fucking great!" I said as my ex-wife attempted to pull off my cock. 

"Murhah" came the sound from her mouth. I held her there, cock in her mouth, as my secretary gazed over and snapped several shots with her cell phone. 

"Oh, Nancy Jean, you shouldn't really talk with your mouth full, didn't your mother teach you anything," said my secretary to my humiliated ex-wife. 

"I heard you were a pretty good teacher, but it seems you have, uh, other, better skills. I mean, even I know that, and I'm, well, what did you say, a fat ass bitch?" 

Letting go of my ex-wife's head, Nancy Jean attempted to modestly get to her feet. 

"There's some white stuff on your cheek," said Mrs. Perkins, looking at the screen on her phone. "Do you want a Kleenex?" 

My ex-wife smoothed down her skirt and wiped the cum off her cheek. 

"Ok, you guys had your fun. What are you going to do with those photos, play with yourself and look at them? Learn some tricks from the master?" asked Nancy Jean with impunity. 

My secretary was obviously ticked. "No, I think I'll send these to the parents of your students, or maybe your principal...uh, I hope he doesn't mention it to your boyfriend, Assistant Principal Johnson." 

For once my ex-wife was speechless. I could tell her mind was spinning. She obviously didn't want her current boyfriend to know about her oral habit, especially with her ex-husband. 

"What do you want?" my ex-wife quietly asked.

Mrs. Perkins didn't waste a second in explaining exactly what she wanted. We hadn't planned it, but it made perfect sense to me. 

"I want you to kiss my ass...right now." 

Nancy Jean looked at my secretary and then repeated her question. "What do you want?"

Mrs. Perkins stared at my ex-wife. "You don't listen well, Nancy Jean, I want you to kiss my big fat ass."

"You've got to be kidding!" 

Mrs. Perkins was serious as a heart attack. She bent over, lifted her skirt, and demurely pulled down her blue cotton panties. "Kiss my ass, Nancy Jean." 

My ex-wife stared at the older woman's ass...as did I. She was quite in shape, my secretary. Her thighs were solid white, as if she hadn't been in the sun. My wife walked over, bent over, and kissed each ass cheek. "Slowly, Nancy Jean...do it again. And this time after you do, kiss my asshole." 

"No fucking way!" 

Mrs. Perkins said fine, and that the photos would go out that night. 

It's amazing what my ex-wife would do. For me, she'd suck my cock for money. To ensure the photos didn't make it out of the camera, she'd do what I thought was unthinkable: she licked my secretary's asshole. It was unbelievable. 

For 30 seconds or so Nancy Jean orally pleased my secretary by licking and kissing her ass. It was incredible, and my dick once again hardened.

Mrs. Perkins pushed my ex-wife away, thanked her, and smoothed down her dress. 

"That was nice, Nancy Jean. It's nice to know you are as good an ass licker as you are a cocksucker." 

As Mrs. Perkins left the room she reminded me of my 4:30 meeting. 

"Call him," I ordered. "Tell him I will be there in 10 minutes...and as for you, Nancy Jean, come here. You have some unfinished business that has just come up." 

I pointed to my cock and like a magnet Nancy Jean slipped back onto her knees. She sucked me for several minutes before I had to grasp my dick and jerk it off. It wasn't difficult, given all the eroticism over the last few minutes, for me to work out another orgasm at my wife's face. 

Nancy Jean looked great with my cum on her face. 

"Here's the deal, Nancy Jean, leave it on your face until you get outside my office and talk to Mrs. Perkins. You've treated her so bad recently she deserves to see you at your finest." 

My ex-wife stormed out the door, but I knew she'd be back. Blow Job Queens love the adoration.

And the best part is she didn't care who gave it to her. 



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 06



Editor's note: So many of you have written to me asking questions about what was going on with my ex-wife Nancy Jean, the Blowjob Queen of Ridley High. Here's the latest. 

*

Can a woman be addicted to cock?

Not merely enjoy satisfying her partner, not simply getting him off. Not just during the dating process or first year of marriage. No, a woman with a real live cock addiction.

In my experience, the answer is an emphatic YES! 

How do I know? I was married to a woman whose cock-sucking skills were impeccable. They were outstanding. They were beyond mind-blowing. The woman could suck a cock like no other. 

We broke up. We had to.

What was the problem? The girl just loved to suck on cock. Doesn't she sound like every man's dream girl? Absolutely. But there was this huge problem. 

Mine was not the only cock she sucked. No, Nancy Jean was a blow job artist with a well earned reputation throughout the Delaware Valley it as a girl who could be counted on to suck cock with just a little incentive.

I learned it out by accident.

When we were dating I had absolutely no idea Nancy Jean was a blow job queen. Heck, it took me a while to realize how much she loved sucking cock. Prior to going out with me, and while we were going out, Nancy Jean was plying her talents on various guys...only I had no idea. 

I must have been on the slow side of things, but gradually I found out the girl liked dick. She'd suck my cock in the car...sometimes even when I was driving! Parks, baseball dugouts, her parent's basemen, you name it, we probably fooled around there. Her cock-sucking talents were endless, and I was oblivious to the fact that there would be stares and chuckles when we'd walk past people on the street.

We were married, lived in suburbia, me working as a manager for a local insurance company and Nancy Jean teaching 3rd graders at a local community elementary school. A normal sex life, a couple kids, and the normal credit card debt associated with being a middle class, two income family. 

It wasn't until out 10th high school reunion when I stumbled upon the fact that Nancy Jean had a reputation in high school for being an excellent fellatrix, and was even given the honorary title of Blowjob Queen of Ridley High. It took 10 years, but I found out that my wife was a cock-sucking queen in the day. Apparently she had been faithful in our years of marriage, except for a couple dalliances that meant nothing to her. But something happened on the night of our reunion, something set her off, and our lives were never the same again. 

That particular night I thought there were a lot of smirks around the room when we walked past. I chalked it up to jealously about Nancy Jean's short black mini-dress which rode up her thighs (showing stocking tops) when we danced or she bent over. Yet when I accidentally overheard several guys talking about my wife's oral talents I nearly died. 

I didn't believe it. But it got worse. Later that night I caught her in the act of blowing the high school football star, to say nothing of four other guys she'd done when she was 18, in succession the back seat of Biffs' car. A sort of oral gang bang. 

Needless to say I wasn't pleased. At first I bolted from our marriage, but over time we got back together. I thought things would change. To preserve our marriage I made some compromises, which I thought would make things better, but didn't. Our relationship changed and ultimately ended. 

It wasn't until my ex-wife visited me in my office in need of money that I got back with her. Oh, not into a relationship, but in a once a week 15-30 minute meeting where she'd finish her school teacher duties then breeze over to my office. There my secretary held all calls while Nancy Jean sucked my dick.

Yes, it was a simple business arrangement to keep her solvent at a time when bills were mounting higher than her salary and my modest support payments could handle. 

The weekly escapade was something I looked forward to, because there was no love in the act, I simply used her mouth as a cock receptacle. It was humiliating for her, because my secretary knew what was going on in the office --- I made no effort to disguise it from her once she caught on to things. 

My ex-wife would arrive, there were be a couple minutes of pleasant conversation. Nancy Jean would suck my cock, and I'd be as nice or as rough as I wanted with her. Heck, I was using her as a whore, so to speak. Even the little love I had in my heart for her gradually wore away. 

Our arrangement worked extremely well for months. I loved having the power to basically snap my finger and send my ex-wife to her knees and tend to my cock. I had her do all kinds of cock sucking in that office, as it was a fantasy come true. 

She would blow me while under my desk, while between my legs at my circular work table, and even while lying on my desk with her head over the edge while I stood and fed her my cock. Most of the time I'd shoot and she'd swallow, but to add to my excitement I'd sometimes pull out right before I was going to cum and just jerk off my cock until my sauce coated her face. It was a porn movie magic moment. 

On several occasions I'd have her blow me while taking a call from a client. Once I called a girlfriend and asked for a date while Nancy Jean was polishing my cock. Oh, I loved to humiliate the woman, especially in front of the ears of my secretary. That was a one-upmanship that was unmatched in anything I had done. When Nancy Jean left the office, my secretary always made some smart remark that added to my ex-wife's humiliation. 

So when she surprised me one Monday night I didn't know what to expect. I heard my secretary greet her and had to smile to myself.

"Hello, Nancy Jean, aren't you a couple days early for your, uh, meeting, with Jon?" coyly asked my wonderful secretary. She knew what went on behind my closed doors, a couple times she even asked to listen on the speaker phone while Nancy Jean was sucking me off. I truly believed she relished the fact that Nancy Jean had to stoop, uh, kneel so low, to make a few bucks to make ends meet.

Nancy Jean came into my office, shut the door, sat down across from me and let ample leg show as she made a production of crossing her legs. She took a deep breath and got right to the point. Her current beau, the assistant principal at her school, was up to his neck with marital problems. Seems his wife had wads of evidence he'd been cheating on her, enough that even his lawyer was shaking his head in disbelief. Still, nobody had identified Nancy Jean as the "other woman" which would have made the divorce very, very uncomfortable...and expensive.

So my ex-wife wasn't able to count on Jim Thompson to help out with the bills for a while. Apparently not only costs were going up, but her dad had lost his job and was scraping to make ends meet. Nancy Jean was short of cash for herself, let alone the money needed to help her parents. "Jon, be a sport, help me through this....maybe we can meet twice a week?"

Once a whore always a whore.

I smiled as she squirmed, ultimately showing some stocking tops. I could tell she didn't want to be here admitting she'd run short of cash when her current beau had to stop with his generosity. Heck, there was the mortgage on a house she couldn't really afford --- our old house --- plus ax expensive new car and regular trips to the local fashion stores to update her outfits. So when the gravy train slowed, well, I really liked the idea she'd whore herself even more, maybe having a little humiliation head her way the way I had to take it over our years of marriage.

All of a sudden it hit me.

"Okay, Nancy Jean, I will help out, but not in the office. People think it's odd you come in once a week, so twice a week would be pushing it," I said with a smile. "We will keep our Wednesday meetings as planned, but I also want a "road trip" each week." 

At first she looked at me as if I was nuts, at least until the memories of our dating times were remembered.

Before we were married we'd sneak out of her parent's eyeshot and go on short "road trips" where we'd find some secluded spot to make love. Sometimes it would be a quickie in the park, other times a blow job in a parking lot. On pleasant nights we'd park near her house, so we could beat her dad's curfew, and meander down an old farm lane away from the main road. There on a blanket, we'd watch the stars and make out. No matter where it was always erotic, naughty and oh so very hot. 

Those little escapades ended quickly after marriage. Heck, we had a bedroom and other rooms in our first apartment to savor each other's bodies. We'd do it on the kitchen counter, the shower and even the couch during a television show. But the road trips were a thing of history. 

Nancy Jean's predicament was just what the doctor ordered to get those little dalliances happening like in the good old days. 

At first Nancy Jean was reluctant to agree to my frivolous demand, but after a bit of prodding, and promise for a little "extra" in her monthly support, she agreed. For my part, I really didn't mind either, because I loved her parents and would probably helped them out myself had I known of their predicament. But now I could help and have my fantasies come true as well, to say nothing of the pleasure of embarrassing my former wife.

We decided that Friday would be as good a time as any to seal the deal. She came by my office at 5:30 and drove off in my car. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"You will see soon enough," I replied, slowly caressing her thigh. 

I had given some thought to where we could go, finally coming up with an old baseball field near our former apartment. It was one of four diamonds there, not in use given the cool weather, and we parked and went for a walk. I headed toward the diamond farthest away from the car, and the only entry into the park, so we'd have at least a little advance notice of someone coming into the ball field complex. 

We parked the car and I suggested we go for a walk. She would have preferred staying in the car, but with a little prodding we ended up in a baseball dugout, where I said the magic words: "Suck my dick, Nancy Jean."

It is every man's dream to have a woman obey his naughty commands, and here I was in a baseball dugout watching my ex-wife slip to her knees between my legs. As she was lowering my zipper and reaching into my boxers she had one request:: "Keep an eye out for someone coming by, this is quite a compromising situation Jon which wouldn't look good in the newspapers."

I agreed --- heck I'd have agreed to rob a bank at this point --- and watched as she slowly lowered by pants and began stroking my cock. Up and down her hand went until I was rock hard, at which time she lowered her head and kissed the tip of my manhood. The feeling was incredible. I mean, after hundreds of times it was still an amazing sensation when her lips met my dick. 

It was easy to understand how she earned her reputation as a BJ Queen, as the girl could really act the part of a cock-sucking slut. She'd nibble around the tip, then slowly slide her tongue down the shaft. She'd alternate slow, sensuous licks with a mouthful of suction. 

"On, Nancy Jean, you have a special talent, you are a wonderful dick licker," was my gasp and gulp comment as I watched the girl work. She was really getting into it, as was I, so much so that I didn't see we were being observed from a field over when dogs began barking. That caused me to look up and spy a guy walking his two dogs. 

I couldn't tell if he could really see what was going on in the dugout, but suffice it to say he was clearly staring our way. That only brought more sensations to my brain, and I grasp Nancy Jean's head and helped guide it over my dick in an effort to speed the process. That worked exactly as planned, and soon I was shooting my manly seed into the depths of her mouth. 

After she had swallowed my load I suggested she get up, mentioning that there was a guy coming our way. She jumped to her feet, looking around, and somehow missing the guy. Now presentable, we walked arm in arm back toward the car when she finally saw the guy. He was staring at us, shaking his head and moving his hand up and down in a jerk off motion and Nancy Jean knew from experience what had happened.

"He saw us, that's for certain," said my ex-wife. "He thinks I'm a slut."

I didn't disagree, and knew Nancy Jean's face was getting redder the more she thought about our being discovered. Still, she didn't say another word as we moved quickly to the car and sped away.

While I was very nervous about being "caught" I had to say it was very exciting. Probably because he was far enough away that we could have said, if confronted, he had no idea of what he actually saw and thought he saw. But in any event I enjoyed the blow job immensely and Nancy Jean wasn't any worse for wear save some smeared lipstick and some of my cum on her blouse. 

Over the next week I thought of several scenarios I wanted to play out, fantasies that had never come true, probably never would until this situation arose. I decided to take advantage of my good luck. 

Work got in the way of pleasure, but schedules meshed for a Saturday afternoon meeting. I suggested a late lunch in Harrisonburg, a good 100 miles down Interstate 81. That made no sense to Nancy Jean, but ultimately she thought it would be a pleasant drive, one where we could talk about whatever.

Along the way we passed a convoy of 18-wheelers, one which tooted his horn as we slowly drove past. "I think that was a compliment, I think he likes your top!" Nancy Jean was wearing a loose fitting, low cut top. I surmised from the trucker's actions that he must have been looking into the car and got a quick peek at my ex-wife's ample cleavage. 

That reminded me of an old Playboy cartoon. In it a couple is driving down a seemingly deserted road when the guys ask her to bend over and lick his cock. He mentioned nobody could see. As the girl went down on him a bus was trekking along right behind, its occupants getting and eyeful of the cavorting couple in the car.

I remembered that cartoon as we began our drive, and decided that while maybe a busload of passengers might not be the best thing to do, a lonely trucker getting a peek of my ex-wife might be just what the doctor ordered. 

Of course when I asked Nancy Jean to open her blouse and give the truckers a view it was met with utter dismay. I couldn't believe she was so embarrassed, so modest. Heck, she'd blown numerous guys "in the old days" and I'd caught her doing several over the years before our divorce. 

Normally she'd bob her head on her terms. Still, showing a little tit didn't seem the same as blowing someone, so I didn't get her reluctance. But when I reminded her of the terms of our deal she ultimately acquiesced. Besides deep down I think she enjoyed the exhibitionist role. 

Nancy Jean looked around then lifted her blouse, opening it so that only her frilly black bra stood between prying eyes and her bountiful breasts. She laid back in the passenger seat, eyes closed, as I clicked on the turn signal to pass. Accelerating, I slowly moved toward the driver's cab, hoping he'd look in his rear view mirror. 

Whether he did or didn't I don't know, but when I was directly aside the truck and moving at the same speed I did look up through the moon roof and saw a bearded man do a double take when he noticed my wife's bra-encased chest. We drove a quarter of a mile or so side by side with the man stealing glances at my ex-wife.

I told Nancy Jean what was happening and she opened her eyes, and when she saw the man ogling her chest she covered her eyes with one hand in total embarrassment. As cars happened behind us I sped ahead and laughed at her dismay. "Aw, Nancy Jean, that was hot."

We were cruising at 65 when I noticed the truck speed to pass, getting about 10 yards to our back left and hanging there. I didn't know whether he was going to pass or not, until I realized he was looking in my side mirror at Nancy Jean. It was that look that got me in the mood to have her show a little more.

"Pull your pants down, Nancy Jean, hurry...you can leave your panties on," was my command.

My ex-wife looked at me as if I was crazy, but after more prodding she agreed. By then the truck had passed us, and I flicked my headlights at him to let him know he could safely pull in front of him. A tap of the brakes let me know he thanked me for the courtesy, but I think it was more for the show in the passenger seat. 

Looking over Nancy Jean had her blue jeans down her thighs and above her knees and I was impressed with the frilly red panties that perfectly fit her. The woman spent a lot of time in Victoria's Secret or Fredericks, as these frilly undies didn't come from Macy's. They were simply adorable. But I wasn't going to be the only one who saw them. 

I waited until several cars passed, saw there wasn't anything behind us, and repeated my passing action of earlier. Only this time I could see the driver straining to see Nancy Jean as I pulled up along side his vehicle. This time the guy nodded his head and gave us the thumbs up as Nancy Jean's bare legs showed to her panties. To help with the visual I stroked her thigh, casually slipping a finger into her panties. That brought a big "yippee" to the guys' lips. 

Ahead I noticed we were gaining on another truck, no doubt because "our guy" had voiced his voyeuristic pleasure on the CB radio. We soon overtook that second truck as that driver stared intently at the show in the front seat of my car. Yes, the two truckers were communicating because he knew exactly what was to his left on the road.

Pulling in ahead of the truck I got a great idea! "Nancy Jean, suck my cock!"

My ex-wife shook her head. "You are incorrigible." Still she moved over, knelt on the front seat, and unzipped my pants. I helped her get my cock out, and, with a casual look behind bent over and slipped my dick into her wet, willing mouth.

The feeling was incredible and I had to hold the wheel tight and look at the road ahead to ensure safety. Looking in the rear view I noticed the trucker behind on the CB, and then watched as he pulled into the passing lane.

Again this trucker moved into a position where he could see first in my side window mirror, undoubtedly seeing my ex-wife gobbling cock. Then he pulled ahead and watched the action in his own wide mirror. I saw his head stretching for a perfect few. 

He pulled in ahead and was followed by the second trucker who repeated the actions of the first, topping things off with a toot on his air horn.

I felt like a sultan, a king of the hill. Looking behind there wasn't a car in sight, so I pulled out and pulled up next to the second trucker. Looking through the moon room I saw him alternating his view of the road and truck ahead and Nancy Jean sucking my cock. That's when I realized he could see her panty-clad ass too. Damn, that must have been a great sight.

I fondled her ass before slipping those pretty panties down to her thighs. Playing with her ass some more as she blew me I gave the trucker a thrill by spreading the ass cheeks a little to give him a better view. The man gave me a thumbs up sign, and then signaled me to put my hand on Nancy Jean's head. 

I did as he asked, guiding her up and down my cock. 

It was so hot feeling her mouth on my dick and being watched. It was like he was right in our bedroom, but the thrill of drilling her mouth at 60 miles-per-hour was totally awesome. When he pointed ahead, I sped up and gave the second trucker a view of my ex-wife. His reaction was the same as the first, but he waved at me to spank the girl. 

Again I followed directions, slowly spanking her behind with soft yet firm strokes, and that did it for me. I shot off several volleys of cum into her willing, sucking mouth. Nancy Jean purred at my actions, seemingly loving every minute of it. What topped things off, though, was after cleaning my cock and swallowing my load she sat on the passenger side and glanced over at the trucker. 




I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 06



He had written on a slate board, "NICE JOB" and gave her a thumbs up. At first I thought she keel over or something, she was clearly embarrassed, but when I asked her to smile at the guy and stick out her cum-glazed tongue she did, bringing forth several beeps of the air horn.

With the naughty show over I sped up and drove away from the truckers with a big smile on my face. "That was so hot, Nancy Jean, you were spectacular," I said, thanking my ex-wife for her exquisite blow job. It was well work the cash I'd shell out, and great for the ego.

"You know, Jon, I always wondered if truckers actually looked into cars and if they saw anything," said Nancy Jean. "I know Kelly Ann once told me she had flashed a trucker on a bet. I guess they see that all time. It must break up the monotony of a drive."

Agreeing with my ex-wife, I mentioned they probably didn't get to watch a blow job in progress, but I was glad they did. "That was so hot, and I can't believe we wrote that sign up for you!"

We joked a little as we drove south, ultimately pulling over at truck stop for some gas and a sandwich. After ordering we made small talk before our breakfast was delivered. Later while eating a familiar looking guy entered the restaurant...Trucker Number One!

He sat down at a table and gazed at us for a minute before walking to our table. "Mind if I sit down?"

Both of us were spellbound, but I nodded approval. We were in a safe haven, he did look like an ax murderer, and besides, you couldn't have pried me away from my coffee with a crowbar.

The guy ordered an English muffin and coffee as we made small talk. A little this and that, we asked him about life on the road and he wanted to know if we were on the road much as well. "Not really," I replied. "This was our first time driving down Route 81." 

"Well, it was sure memorable for me, you too I bet!" 

Nodding our agreement, we kept making small talk. The guy looked around, and with nobody in earshot got a little more intimate. "That was quite a show you two put on, sure made my day," said the man with a smile. "It was a good thing you guys stopped the show when you did...there was an unmarked smoky that came by. Bet he wouldn't have liked the show!" 

We all laughed at the thought, me counting my blessings we hadn't been discovered.

Rick the Truck Driver admitted he'd seen a few bra covered and bare breasts in his driving days, and once saw a couple fucking in the back seat while their buddy drove. "But your show was very hot, I'm bursting if you know what I mean."

Over more we talked about the driving life, his family and life on the road. Not all exciting times, in fact monotonous, so our little escapade brightened his day. Nancy Jean asked when the last time he'd "gotten any" and he replied he and his wife cavorted twice over the weekend. 

There was a lull in the conversation as the three of us looked at each other with a mixture of caution and excitement. Breaking the spell, I think excitement of the moment won out. 

"Nancy Jean, Rick has been so nice to us, and he's a man in need, if you know what I mean...want to show him how much you enjoyed his watching?" 

My ex-wife looked appalled, but when I mouthed the words "do him" while stroking her thigh under the truck stop tablecloth she merely smiled.

I think the thought of blowing a total stranger while I watched made her hot. Heck, I know so, because she started rubbing my leg as we were talking. 

"I've always wanted to see the inside of the cab of a truck," said a smiling Nancy Jean, no doubt sensing a new conquest and notch on her BJ Belt. 

"I'd love to show you," said the trucker, obviously wanting from her what I had received an hour or so before. 

And thus the deal was sealed. We all walked back toward the truck lot, Nancy Jean between both of us. On one hand I couldn't believe we were doing this, but on the other I knew Nancy Jean was salivating at the thought of sucking the cock of a man she had just met. 

Rick waved us into his truck as he entered the driver's side. We looked around the cab, he showed us his gadgets, including the sign with the NICE JOB written on it, and offered to get in the back of the cab. There, a small bed was unmade but comfy looking. 

The burly bearded truck driver got into the back, followed by Nancy Jean, and there was no doubt what was going to happen. But to be sure Nancy Jean set the rules. "No fucking, you hear me? And I control the actions. Okay?"

The man smiled. "It's a deal, hon, you are the boss."

Down came his pants and briefs, and up jumped a thick cock. I think Nancy Jean liked the look of it because she gave a little gasp when he revealed his throbbing monster. And it was a monster, as when she stroked the cock to full size her hand barely fit around it. Not really long, maybe 6 inches, it was very thick.

My eyes widened as I watched my ex-wife at work. The girl was sort of spellbound looking at the man's cock. She slowly stroked it, bringing groans from the horny man. Then she lowered her head and licked the cock from stem to stern, up and down, licking the lip. She lavishly bathed the tip of the thick cock with her tongue before moving back down to his ball sack. There, she savored the sack and licked round and round while stroking his cock. 

His cock blossomed to maximum girth and length as she worked on his balls. I thought he'd cum when she licked the skin between his balls and his ass. Heck, I almost came just watching. 

"Oh my god girl, lick me, suck me," was his demand. 

Nancy Jean complied. Working her tongue all over his cock and balls and stroking the dick faster. She moved her head upward before shyly asking the man if she was still doing a good job.

"You are unbelievable," groaned the man. "Please suck my dick."

No further prompting was required. She opened her mouth and slowly worked her lips over the man's mushroom shaped head. The cock pulsated in her hand and mouth as she worked more of the thick man meat into her mouth. 

Once she had several inches in her mouth she stopped and milked the dick with her lips, tightening her mouth grip while tantalizing moving her lips over the cock. She moved her circled fingers around the base of the dick while working the top. 

Drawing groans from the man she began bobbing her head up and down the dick meat. It was incredible watching the way she worked the base with her hand and the thick top with her mouth. Up and down she went, alternating quick strokes with slow, sensuous ones. 

The man was rocking in tune to her mouth music, and it quickly became apparent he was going to shoot his manly load.

'Don't cum in my mouth," requested the girl, lifting her head from the cock while continuing her stroking. He attempted to move her head down, ignoring her request, but she kept her mouth away from the throbbing cock. 

"Cum, you bastard, cum" said my ex-wife to the bearded trucker. 

The man rocked up and down and soon spurt after spurt of cock sauce shot at Nancy Jean's face. One blast coated her from the top of her eyebrow down to her nose, and other volleys hit and pasted her face with a sticky residue of baby batter. I could swear the girl smiled throughout the onslaught, and I had to smile myself at her cock sucking prowess. 

It was amazing watching the erotic escapade. 

Yes, Nancy Jean was still a cock-sucking queen. 



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 07



(It is not necessary to read the first six installments of this series, but recommended.)

*

I couldn't believe how much my ex-wife loved cock. Absolutely loved it. It was one thing for her to suck my dick twice a week in return for certain monetary favors, but on the recent trip where she blew me in the car under the watchful eyes of several onlooking truckers, the fact was emphasized as we pushed the envelope to new heights. 

Oh, I knew Nancy Jean loved cock. We split up, got back together, broke up, and finally divorced because I caught her in the act of sucking off a variety of men. I didn't know it when we were first married, but it all traced back to her high school years. Apparently the 18-year-old senior sucked off half the male class. That was a fact I was totally oblivious to when we were dating, courting and ultimately married. 

I didn't have a clue back in those days and really didn't find out the details of her being named by some of the guys as the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High until our 10th reunion. 

What made it worse was I heard about her younger proclivity for sucking cock by accident, overhearing guys speaking about a cock-sucking slut which turned out to be my wife.

That night, the following nights and the next couple years were a whirlwind of brain-slammed days and nights as my mind became jumbled with the fact my wife couldn't control her unladylike activities. Ultimately, we had lawyers sort out the gory details and we attempted to move on with our lives. 

In recent years, after the matrimonial split, my interactions with my ex-wife were centered on a 20-30 minute afternoon interlude on Wednesdays when she'd arrive from her school teaching job, lock the door, and suck me off in return for a little extra in her checking account. I loved the fact that since our marriage had ended she'd had a hard time making ends meet with her schoolteacher's pay. 

Not that she didn't make much money, because she did. But she also had expensive tastes and a penchant for running up her credit card bills. I used to joke there wasn't a sale she didn't like, and she always preferred name brands rather than the generic. New clothes, cars, you name it, Nancy Jean loved them. That led her back to my door, because I was a pushover for a little added to her bank account in return for her worshiping my cock for a few minutes Wednesday afternoons. 

Oh, she'd say she felt like a whore, but she needed the money and I wanted to ensure my kids were able to stay in the house they were growing up in.

It wasn't until her current beau, the married vice principal at her school, was nearly caught in the act of seeing my wife on the side that she slowed that action. Nancy Jean and Jim decided to cool it for a while, as his wife was monitoring everything in his life. That meant reviewing their bank account and every expenditure like an auditor, so Nancy Jean wasn't getting help from his side when her dad turned ill and the family needed cash. 

She of course turned to me, and I of course took her up on her offer. We'd done a few "road trips" where she'd blow me in the car, a national park and a ball field where as a youngster I'd played baseball during the day and made out with girls at night. The best was the time she blew me in front of the truckers, because that was the day we met truck driver Rick in a diner. He'd watched the action in the car, and later that day got to sample Nancy Jean's talents in the cab of his truck.

That's right, I convinced my ex-wife to blow a guy she'd just met. It was a fantastic sight, watching her work his cock. I couldn't believe it, she actually did it in the cab of his rig, just feet away from where other trucks were parked. Not that they could hear or see any of the action, although I am positive a couple saw us enter the vehicle. 

On the walk over with the man I felt her hand tremble, I knew she was terrified on one hand yet excited on the other. I remember thinking that if I'd reach under her skirt I'd find a soaking wet pussy trembling with anticipation of the act she was about to perform. 

Watching her blow the trucker in his cab was one of the most exciting things I'd ever witnessed. Nancy Jean, once in action, was amazing. It was like watching an HD movie on the big screen, as I was only feet away from the action. For several seconds I actually helped her, holding her head and directing it on his cock. I could see her lips working overtime on the trucker's cock, the saliva escaping her mouth and ultimately his pearly white cum filling and spilling from her talented mouth. 

On the ride home I had her suck me off again, so the woman had three copious loads of man sauce in her tummy in several hours. I wondered if she saw Jim that night, and if he got a nice, sloppy kiss.

That would have been hot, really hot.

Over the next couple weeks in our weekly Wednesday sessions I fantasized about the trucker getting his cock sucked off in the cab while I watched. Only on these days Nancy Jean was actually sucking me off while I visualized her on her knees blowing the horny trucker. 

I especially loved it when Nancy Jean, after swallowing my cum, would smooth down her knee length skirt, carefully re-apply her make up, and then gracefully leave my office as my all-knowing secretary commented on how nice she looked. I loved the fact that I could get my ex-wife to her knees so easily, and especially loved the way she was humiliated at having to perform at my whim.

But it wasn't until my friend John's announcement that he was getting married that I got "the idea". 

I thought of something as a payback for Nancy Jean's ruining of our marriage. Of her cheating behind my back, and later right in front of me. Of her blowing my best friend, our best man, my boss and countless others. Of kissing her at night without the knowledge that another man had been fucking her face hours before. The humiliation of having to face men, several men, who had sampled my then-wife's mouth with their cocks brought shivers to my spine. 

I wanted to kick their collective asses, but that would have only landed me in the slammer. I wanted to kick her ass, but that would have brought worse consequences. Heck, a friend of mine had beaten his wife and got 10 years in the state penitentiary. So in the end I kept the anger to myself. Still, when Nancy Jean needed some extra cash I gladly set up a regular appointment in my office for her to arrive, come in, suck my cock and leave....all in a quick half hour of wham, bam, thank you man.

The woman had no shame, as evidenced by her sucking off a trucker at my insistence for a little extra cash. 

My plan of ultimate humiliation for my ex-wife came to fruition with the bachelor party for my friend John. He didn't know it at the time, but Nancy Jean was going to be our scandalous entertainment. 

The party was to be held at a local bar, where, when I told the owner of my plans, he quick agreed to close that night "for inventory" as long as he could participate in the planned activities. I quickly agreed.

It was time for a payback for Nancy Jean's cheating on me. It wasn't until well after we had gotten married that I found out Nancy Jean's proclivity for sucking cock, especially those men she wasn't married too. Prior to my stumbling on the fact that she had been an active cocksucker on dates --- thought not with me ---- and then after out marriage her sucking around, I had thought we had a good thing going.

When I found out it all fit together. She was a great cocksucker in high school, although I had no idea. She was a great cocksucker in marriage, a fact I knew from first hand experience but not about how many times she got on our knees without me. And she was a superb cocksucker after our divorce, as our weekly escapades displayed. 

The bachelor party idea was priceless. Oh we had planned on having two strippers perform for the 12 guys present that night, girls who would disrobe on the bar and dance and gyrate to numerous tunes. But the main attraction was in the back of the bar in a makeshift plywood enclosure. Nobody but the bar owner and I knew of the plan.

On the afternoon of the party the bar owner and I worked magic to make the enclosure that would house Nancy Jean that night. 

I taped a couple posters on one wall of the private "hut", the inside which could be accessed from behind a curtain. On one wall I fashioned a hole, what you might know as a glory hole found in some adult bookstores. Inside and outside I hooked up a pair of security cameras with a direct line to the 12 LCD televisions in the bar. Heck, I didn't want anyone to miss the action in the back, especially the special guests I would be inviting.

I thought back to the final straw broken in our marriage, when I caught Nancy Jean and her boss at the school where she taught, Jim Thompson, in the act behind a local diner. Apparently they had had lunch, and then Nancy Jean savored and munched on cock for desert. That was humiliating for me, but not as much as the time when my cousin caught the two of them in the act behind a local shopping center. 

She wasn't sure it was Nancy Jean, but I was positive. There were times when I hated the woman for what she did, and that just led to my enjoyment each and every time I had the slut suck my cock off after the ink dried on the divorce decree. It was a great feeling knowing the woman was so willing to suck my dick after sucking so many others for her own thrills.

Somehow I "forgot" to tell my ex-wife about the cameras. Oh well. 

Luckily for me Nancy Jean struggled a bit with money after the divorce, especially after hook up with Jim Thompson. He had been helping out with some monetary favors but when his wife became suspicious he became extremely careful with his wallet. I didn't mind shelling out a little extra for the ex-wife in return for her providing regular mouth music for me. 

As my idea germinated I began getting a little friendlier toward Jim Thompson. His divorce was nearly complete, and so were his own wedding plans to marry his cock-sucking sweetheart, Nancy Jean. It was a little déjà vu all over again as I knew he didn't have an idea about how his future wife was still performing fellatio on me. And while I assumed that would end with marriage --- she wouldn't need my support any more --- one never knows with Nancy Jean. In any event, the bachelor party would be a big sendoff.

Over time I "bumped" into Thompson at Starbucks. He was a little taken back, as I don't think he knew how to handle his now-girlfriend's former husband. Who knows what she was saying about me. But I pushed off his fears and concerns and bought him a latte. A couple weeks later we met again, and this time we sat and talked for a while.

Even Nancy Jean was a little surprised at how well Jim and I got together. "He seems like a good man, Nancy Jean," I said one Wednesday afternoon as she was sucking my cock. "Take it deeper, oh yea, that's it. Use your lips...yea; he seems like a good guy. I am sure you two were made for each other." 

The fact that she was still sucking my cock when she was unofficially engaged to Jim was quite a large turn-on for me. She claimed she needed the extra cash --- his pending divorce settlement was near ruining him financially --- but I think she also liked the regular weekly serving of cock. 

Over time Jim became comfortable with me and was very intrigued by the idea of attending the bachelor party for my friend. I didn't give him all the details, only that there would be cards, beer and a little life exotic entertainment. 

I laughed inside at how he'd love that entertainment!

The logistics for the affair were intense, as I needed a lot of things to come together. Luckily the bar owner was very obliging to my needs, because I promised him his "needs" would be met. In time the party came together and I was hard with anticipation of that Friday night's activities.

The morning of the bachelor party I ran into Jim Thompson, and in speaking he wondered if he could bring his just turned 18-year-old son to the affair. "Nothing wrong with seeing some women without their clothes on, right Rob?" he asked. At first I was put back, and then smiled inside. It was perfect, and I said of course as long as he would vouch not to have one drop of booze hit his son's lips.

That night I welcomed each of the now 13 men --- 12 men and a young man actually --- and we began the festivities. It was funny, as several of the guys I invited knew Jim. I had his lawyer, who I knew from doing some work for me over the years, as well as two of his co-workers. Of course the man of honor, John, and seven of his close friends. Heck, it was his night, but having brought him in early on my evil ways he was chomping at the bit for this night of frivolity. Then their was a big, burly bar owner, who couldn't help smiling when he thought of the night's festivities. 

It started innocently enough, a toast to the soon to be groom, some gag gifts. We carved out a melon and showed him how a dildo could easily be inserted into the small hole. To whoots and hollers Bill "fucked" the melon with the long-red dildo, all the while giving instruction to John on how he could do the same with his cock on nights when his wife wasn't "in the mood" for sex. We all got a laugh at that one. 

Various ballgames were on the television screens above the bar, soon replaced by porno as the crowd took it up a level and got a little raunchier. The bar owner brought on plates of buffalo wings and other munchies before our eyes were drawn to a pair of beautiful young dancers I'd hired for the high from a local strip club. Each was dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, complete with white blouses and tie, short pleated skirts, white stockings and black patent leather pumps. They were gorgeous, and the men enjoyed exotic topless lap dances for the next half hour.

During the exotic dances I slipped to the back and let Nancy Jean into the building. My ex-wife only knew she was doing me a big favor, having a big pay day and that she'd get more cock that ever. That thought turned her on, once I assured her that nobody would know it was her. It would be totally anonymous, I assured her, and she'd get a full filling of cock. I was so happy she'd informed me of her fantasy years ago! 

The little enclosure where she'd spend the next 90 minutes was actually comfortable for her. She had a chair, pillows were on the floor and I had a bottle of spring water for her. I explained the deal, guys would come into the room, come over to the wall, and she could ask for cock or they'd know to give it to her. I pointed out the package of flavored condoms if she or the guys wanted to use them. 

"Disguise your voice if you are uncomfortable, but I think they will know what to do," I explained, knowing full well that the handwritten "free blow jobs here" and "insert cock here" handwritten signs on the wall with arrows pointing to the hole would be more than enough motivation for the horny men. 

What I didn't mention was that a camera was shooting from right behind her, and would show constant action once I turned it on. That camera would be on several of the screens in the bar. I also failed to mention the second camera, right to her side, which would give a wonderful view of her head bobbing and her mouth munching on cock. Of course, she would have backed our and died if she knew, so I thought it best to leave the little details out.

I would turn the first camera on in minutes, and it would be on a couple of the screens while the porno would stay on the others. The idea was to have it blend in for a while with the other shows. The second camera would have all the blow-by-blow activities for my personal use later.

Nancy Jean was nervous, but I assured her she was safe. She was somewhat scared, but by the same token, excited. She warmed to the task, playing with my cock. "Will I get to suck you off tonight?" 

I had to smile. Had she known of my nefarious plans she'd have died. "Sure, how about right now?"

I left her in the room, clicked on the cameras, and hit the switch to begin broadcasting to the bar. Moving around in front of the enclosure, I dropped my pants and ran my finger around the hole in the wall. Soon I felt Nancy Jean's lips licking my fingers and I knew she was into the action. I inserted my cock and felt the girl stroke my dick.

"Oh Rob, I love this cock," said my ex-wife from behind the wall. "I always have and always will. Can I suck it?"

"You bet, Nancy Jean, suck away."

That was all the motivation needed, and Nancy Jean began munching on my hardening meat. It was so erotic, standing there, rocking in and out of the hole in the wall, making a fantasy of my own come true. No it wasn't anonymous sex, but it was the next best thing. It was safe, it was hot, and I luxuriated to the mouth music Nancy Jean was making.

After a bit I slipped my dick out of the hole in the wall and asked Nancy Jean for a favor. "Put a rubber on me, I want to try that. Like you were a virgin or something," As if she on her knees sucking a cock through a hole was virginal. 

Nancy Jean cooed at the idea. She fumbled around for a minute, but soon my cock was encased in rubber. She immediately told me how good it tasted, but not as good as my bare cock. Still she didn't miss a beat, sucking harder as I rocked into her mouth, all the while holding the wall to remain steady. 

The feelings on my throbbing dick were intense. In the bar, I heard some loud yells as the guys caught on to the action on the screens. There was porno on some of the screens, of course, but on one of the screens I surmised they could see someone, actually me, getting a blow job through a glory hole. If only they knew!

My ex-wife worked my cock with practiced perfection, holding the base while bobbing her head on the stem. Getting blown with a rubber gave different intensity, and it actually heightened my enjoyment because it was so very different. Soon I was begging the girl to suck harder and when she did I shot glob after glob into the rubber in her mouth. Nancy Jean continued her mouth assault and hand stroking until I was completely spent. 

"Take off the rubber and drink my come down, Nancy Jean," was my quiet command. She slipped the rubber off my dick and, as I peered through the glory hole, she held the rubber to the ceiling and milked my cum into her mouth. My dick hardened again as I watched the sexy, naughty actions of my ex-wife. Once drained, the dropped the condom on the floor. 

I complimented Nancy Jean and said she had a couple minutes before my replacement came. Walking back to the bar I saw the guys looking intensely at the screens. On one I could see the back of Nancy Jean's head, tilted back as she drank from her water bottle. 

"This porno is hot," said the man of honor, John. "That slut just sucked off a guy through a glory hole!"

The good thing was that you couldn't tell it was Nancy Jean, only a girl. The back of her head was prominent, but not her face.

I called him over. "How'd you like the same thing?" I asked.

"Would I, are you kidding? That would be awesome. From one of the strippers?" 

"Nope, even better. One of their friends who is an expert cock-sucker. She's waiting in the back room, just like on the screen."

I gave him the rules and directions, and soon his cock appeared on the screen coming through the hole in front of my ex-wife. Nancy Jean reached over and started stroking the John's hardening cock. Soon she had jerked the guy hard and her head bent over to allow his cock to slip into her mouth. All assembled quit looking at the other screens and locked onto the glory hole blowjob.

"That's awesome," said the bar owner, standing next to me. 

"Wow," exclaimed Jim Thompson while his son merely stared at the screen. "So, she's really in the back room?"




I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 07



I assured him the "girl" was. The guy hadn't caught on to which girl it actually was!

"The strippers were great, dad, but that girl is unbelievable. Can I go back there?"

Thompson looked at me, and I nodded yes and said he had to wait his turn but that he was going to get blown.

Nancy Jean was in rare form, bouncing her head up and down the cock as she blew John with a special gusto. She was taking no prisoners, as she sucked the cock with abandon. Up and down went her hand from the base while her head did the same from the top. When she wasn't sucking she was holding the dick and licking it from stem to stern. It wasn't long before her head slowed as the guy was obviously shooting his man sauce into her willing mouth. 

A couple minutes later the man came into the bar, and I sent the owner back for his special payment for the use of an evening of his bar. He almost ran into the back room. "You all will get a turn, if you like," I said to those present. "Even young Mr. Thompson here! Have you ever had a blow job, young man?" He nodded his head from side. 

The bar owner and next our lawyer friend each took their turns in the back as the strippers returned to the bar for round two of removing their clothing. This time they were dressed in police outfits, complete with handcuffs. 

One, Ginger, walked over to Jim Thompson. "Excuse me, sir, are you letting your son get a blow job out back?" He nodded yes and smiled. She sat him in a chair and handcuffed his hands to the sides and put plastic restraints on his legs. "This will keep you here and leave your son to do what he will do, then," said the girl with a smile. 

Thompson sat with a smug look of a father watching his son excel at something. The boy followed the lawyer into the back room and soon his cock could be seen bouncing in the glory hole as some rock blasted from the nearby speakers. 

I had snuck into the back and turned on the second camera after starting the loud music, the one that showed the view from the side, and soon all at the bar could see Nancy Jean slipping a rubber onto the boy's cock. At first, Jim Thompson didn't understand what was going on, but when the second camera showed action from the side things changed.

"Noooo!!!!" was his cry, as his son inserted his cock into the mouth of Jim Thompson's wife to be. Thompson's face reddened as he watched his future wife blow his son. If only the boy knew he was getting a blow job from his soon to be step mother. Now that would be a story for his friends.

Good thing the music drowned out his father's cry. He attempted to get up, but with his legs and hands secured to the chair he could only turn his head away as Nancy Jean sucked his son's cock. The boy didn't last long, blasting his seed into my ex-wife's willing mouth with rapid spurts. Like me earlier, once finished, Nancy Jean lifted the condom in the air and let this sperm drip down into her mouth. 

"I'll kill you, you bastard," said Jim Thompson when he saw me. 

I nodded my head. "You might want to but I think you are a little tied up right now." 

"Calm down, Jim, everyone knows about Nancy Jean, it's not like she never did this before," said our lawyer friend. Apparently the vice principal did not know that the girl he was going to marry was addicted to cock. He apparently thought she was his own personal cock sucker now that she was divorced. 

Young Thompson came bounding into the room.

"Yee hah!" yelled the boy, "that was incredible," He thank me, his father and everyone else in the room for letting him attend. He didn't even notice his father's dejected look or the ties that bound him.

A procession of horny men visited the back room that night, some telling the girl to suck them bareback, others used a condom. Still others asked to jerk off on her face, which she willingly did, sitting and waiting for the blasts from the guys. 

After an hour I opened the back of the enclosure as Nancy Jean was sucking her 12th dick. "Just two more to go, unless you want seconds?" Her head nodded up and down the guys' cock, a gesture I assumed meant the more the merrier. 

I returned to the bar and asked if anyone wanted a second go round with my ex-wife. Only I didn't mention who she was. "Hey Jim," I asked, "do you want a blow job from the girl in the back?"

If looks would kill, I'd have been dead as a doorknob. The man stared at me.

"Aw, go ahead dad, she's a great cock sucker that girl is," said his unknowing son of his dad's girl friend. "I'll leave if it embarrasses you!" 

Young Thompson said he recognized the girl from somewhere. If only he knew his dad was seeing her on the side and she'd soon be his stepmother.

Jim Thompson was beaten, but I swear he had a hard on. He looked at me, then at the burly guy standing beside me. I may be dumb, but I wasn't about to be a sitting duck if he went ballistic. 

Jim Thompson took a few deep breaths and then nodded to the back. "I need a blow job!" was all he said.

"It's your turn next," I replied, making sure my bodyguard was between me and the back room. . 

Ginger unhitched him from his bindings, and the guy stood and strode to the back. We watched on the television screens as Nancy Jean swallowed some water while waiting for her next conquest. By this point she's been drenched in cum, and had swallowed at least a pint of the sticky sauce. 

We all saw a dick slip through the hole and soon Nancy Jean was munching another cock. Thompson showed no mercy. He rocked in and out of her mouth as she held on for dear life. Several times the cock popped free of her mouth but he didn't miss a stroke. He was rifling in and out of the hole on a mission, and Nancy Jean did her best to suck away with her wet, willing mouth.

Soon Jim Thompson was blasting his seed through the hole. He pulled away at the last second and coated Nancy Jean's face.

She took it all on the face and chin and then sucked him clean. It was so very erotic. We noticed after cleaning the cock she recoiled quickly. Apparently something was said by Jim Thompson the girl didn't like, and she quickly stood. As I arrived in the back room I head the back door slamming as apparently Thompson made his way out of the bar. 

Nancy Jean was leaving her cubbyhole, crying. She saw me and started swinging. "You bastard, you bastard" she cried, cum dripping down her face.

It was priceless. Justice was served!

Young Jim Thompson appeared. "Can I get another blow job now?"

Nancy Jean's face reddened as the knowledge of being face to face with her future step son, a guy she had just minutes before sucked off. Her face was full with his father's cum sauce.

"Wow, my dad left a load on you mam, how about I leave some more?"

Nancy Jean turned to leave, looked at the two of us standing there, and gave a sly smile. "What's the harm in just one more?"

Will the miracle or her addiction ever cease?



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 08



(Feel free to read the earlier installments of this series).

It's bad enough when you find out your wife was named "Blow Job Queen of Ridley High" by her fellow students but worse yet when you find out that after marrying her she continued to use her oral talents on other guys. 

Heck, I had no knowledge of her oral addiction until years after we had tied the knot. 

She was a cocksucker before marriage and was one of those girls who despite trying could never kick the habit. That was the case with Nancy Jean, and it led to our divorce.

Nancy Jean, I found out well after our wedding vows, must have crossed her fingers when she said she'd be true forever during out wedding ceremony. Oh, I think she probably believed it at the time, but after a while the animal urges to suck on a variety of cocks won out over the single one she was wedded too.

I attempted to make the marriage work, even after I found out about her proclivity to suck strange cock. She got a second, third, fourth and fifth chance, but couldn't change her ways. 

That was then, this is now. Now is a lot different, because after our divorce Nancy Jean fell on some hard times. Those problems led her back to me, and this time I was the one with demands. She came, hat in hand, begging my secretary to let her in to see me in the office after I evaded all of her phone calls.

Actually, it was quite exciting letting my secretary listen in to Nancy Jean tell her tale of woe, and later even listen in on the intercom as Nancy Jean got down on her knees under my desk and blew me. 

Ah, revenge is sweet. 

Once a month Nancy Jean made a regular hour visit to my office where, after just a minute or two of exchanging pleasantries she'd perform her monthly duty...worshiping my cock. It was so exciting. Watching her blow me in the office, working my cock, began to make up for all the nights I'd come home from work and unknowingly kiss the lips that had sucked off a guy earlier in the day. 

The beauty of it all was that, because of the financial bind she was in, she'd perform for me. Some days she'd be on her knees, under my desk. Others she'd lay on the desk and I'd stand next to it and fed her my cock. We'd taken a road trip, where she satisfied not only me but a lucky trucker. Oh, I'd do about anything to get off and humiliate her. 

She'd swallow my cum, she'd let me cum on her face. Once, I wouldn't let her wipe off the sticky sauce, insisting she keep the mess on her face and deliver a note to my secretary. I remember Mrs. Harris stating, "Oh, hello, do you need a hanky or something for that, uh, mess?"

Nancy Jean scurried out of the office that day, right past a couple of guys walking in who had no idea what had just happened...only that the woman was walking fast past them attempting to cover her face. 

I loved humiliating the woman. It was worth it, she had humiliated me for years. When she blew her soon to be husband's son at a bachelor party, I thought she'd never speak to me again. She did. When she blew a trucker at my request, she was just a horny chick. Nothing fazed her. Now after her most recent engagement ended, she was going to be starting a new life. 

It was a dark Wednesday afternoon, late in the day and Nancy Jean had finished her monthly blow job and was relating that she's be moving back to Ridley Park with her parents. 

"I got a job in Philly and will stay with them for a while," said my ex-wife. "Look, I'd like to continue our, uh, agreement, but I need to move back home. They need me, and I got a decent job."

She smiled at me. "But you know you could visit once in a while if you need any, uh, you know..."

It was my turn to smile. "You mean if I need my dick sucked?"

"Jon, stop that. Look, I know I'm not perfect, and I was the reason we aren't together, but you don't have to rub it in."

I told her I liked rubbing it in her face, especially cum. And my dick always loved rubbing against her.

"You are such a bad boy, I think that's why I still love you."

I shook my head...not going there. 

We made arrangements to meet one last time before she left for "home". I gave her instructions on what to wear, and what I wanted. She agreed.

Two weeks later Nancy Jean arrived as promised. She was dressed as a slut, and it had to embarrass her coming into the office. We watched as she parked her car, and it took a couple minutes for her to exit. She kept looking around, trying to make sure the coast was clear. When she got out of the car it was obviously why she was moving so slowly.

Nancy Jean had on a short skirt with a white blouse. Not a schoolgirl look, but close. Her stocking tops showed when she got out of the car, as well as the garter straps which held up the nylons. Smoothing down her short skirt, Nancy Jean strode quickly toward the front door. She happened by a couple guys who stopped to watch her enter the building, shaking their heads and smiling. 

When she arrived upstairs at my office Mrs. Harris had her sit, uncomfortably, across from her as she said I was on the phone. Actually, I just wanted her to sit there as my secretary made small talk with her....with the intercom left open for me to hear.

"So, you are moving back to Philadelphia, Nancy Jean?"

"Yes, got a job and will take care of my parents."

"That's nice," said Mrs. Harris. "Will you be blowing guys there too?"

You would have thought Mrs. Harris sat on a whoopee cushion.

"Well, I know that's what you do so well, I just wondered. Jon has told me how good you are at it, and, well, it's the reason you two got divorced, right? You and all of your sucking cocks?"

Nancy Jean was in the process of calling her a bitch when I entered the room.

"You two seem to be in the middle of something, should I wait?"

Nancy Jean jumped to her feet and brushed past me and into my office. When the door closed she called my secretary a bitch, and I merely smiled. "She may be a bitch, but you are going to suck my cock, right?"

My ex-wife looked daggers at me, but nodded her head.

"What did you say?"

"Yea, I want to suck your cock, Jon, your big dick."

I smiled, knowing Mrs. Harris could hear everything Nancy Jean said through the intercom. It was quite hot knowing she could listen to my ex humiliate herself with me. I loved the feeling. It didn't make up for the night when I'd kissed those lips which had sucked other guys, but it helped. 

Nancy Jean asked me how I wanted her, and I told her to lie down on the desk, onstensively so that I could get her to blow me upside down but really I wanted all her sucking actions to be easily heard by Mrs. Harris outside my office door. 

Nancy Jean cleaned off the center of my desk, moving papers to the side, then laid back across the desk so as her head was right in front of my chair. Moving around, I unzipped my pants, dropping them to the floor followed closely by my boxers. My cock was already aroused when I told Nancy Jean to lift her skirt up so I could see her snatch. She did, and then wriggled around so her panties could move down her thighs. 

"You've trimmed down there, it looks great," I said as I rubbed my cock all around Nancy Jean's face. "Play with yourself."

It was quite exciting being able to order her around. I watched as her fingers danced along, around and into her pussy. That caused my dick to harden even more, and soon she was sucking me off while playing with herself. Exquisite! 

I handed her a banana, uneaten at lunchtime, and she started using it to slide up and down her pussy. "Put it in, Nancy Jean, fuck yourself with the banana."

She did. Oh, that was so very hot. 

I have to give it to her, Nancy Jean was a great cocksucker. Never tentative, always working. Her hand could move in unison with her mouth and head like a well-oiled machine. Of course, that machine of hers was indeed well oiled by dozens of guys who had sampled her notorious talents. 

Nancy Jean worked her head so well that I soon was going to blast, but that wasn't the plan...yet. I told her she was wonderful, and then asked if she had locked the door. Of course she hadn't, she nodded no never letting my dick leave her mouth or the banana her slit. I knew that, of course, and knew what was coming.

In a little pre-planning move, the talk of the locked door would bring my experienced secretary into the room, catching us in the act. It wasn't as if she didn't know what was going on, obviously, but I really wanted to embarrass Nancy Jean. She made such a deal about nothing going on behind the closed doors that I had to embarrass the woman.

The office door squeaked its way open --- I have to get someone to oil that thing --- and in strode Mrs. Harris. "I'm sorry to intrude, but Mr. Dawkins insists he have these signed papers by 4 o'clock," said my efficient secretary, staring at my ex-wife and shaking her head. "She must be good at that...with all her practice."

Nancy Jean had attempted to pull my cock out of her mouth, but my hands held her head firmly in place as my cock never missed a beat. Nancy Jean's eyes bulged wide open as I continued to fuck her mouth, banana still lodged in her pussy.

I kept my dick in her mouth while signing the papers. 

"Okay, I've signed the papers, Mrs. Harris, I guess you better get them upstairs before he calls down here."

"Has she always trimmed her snatch?" asked my secretary, who was looking at Nancy Jean's pussy. "It does look good with the banana in it. Very hot."

"No, that's new, she used to have it trimmed a little but this is the first time I've seen the airplane landing strip. It's quite nice," I said, never stopping my onslaught of her mouth.

It was as if Nancy Jean wasn't in the room and Mrs. Harris and I were merely talking about something that was in the daily newspaper. But it wasn't a mere something, it was my ex-wife eating cock.

With that Mrs. Harris lifted her phone and snapped a couple photos of my ex-wife's snatch and cocksucking talents. It was quite exciting staring in that photo shoot. Nancy Jean was mortified, of course, attempting to push me away.

That action, along with the eroticism, caused me to start to cum, and boy did I cum, not only in her mouth but all over her face. Of course Mrs. Harris snapped a couple shots of that. 

"Get the fuck out of here, you bitch," screamed Nancy Jean.

Mrs. Harris smiled and replied, "Sure, cock sucker. Be careful not to choke on it."

With that Mrs. Harris left the office, casually stopping at the door to look back at the desktop action. "Have a great day, slut." 

Oh, the woman could satisfy a guy. My ex-wife had a special talent that guys often dream about. 

Nancy Jean stormed out of the office, barely cleaning my cum off her face.

After she left, I said, "Goodbye honey. Have a good trip. Say hi to mom and dad."

She ignored me and slammed the office door and barged out of the building to her car. 

Smiling to myself, I began finishing off some paperwork. Late in the day Mrs. Harris and I shared a good laugh as we looked at the photos she had taken.



I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 09



It has been ages since I've written about Nancy Jean, my ex-wife who years ago was the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High. Yes, she was given that distinction in a not so secret vote of her class.

Oh, I didn't know she had been "honored" until well after we had been married, when at a 10-year high school reunion I heard several guys talking about her oral talents. Later that night I caught her in the act blowing numerous guys, something that became a habit over the next several years.

Ultimately we divorced: good riddance to the cock-sucking bitch! Except that like a bad penny she kept coming back as her relationships disintegrated and her bills mounted. You don't get large divorce settlements when you are a cock sucking whore. 

Over the years Nancy Jean came to me to ask, no, make that beg for money. And for the use of her oral talents, I was incented to help her out. Oh, I know, I am scum, but nothing like my ex-wife. The only thing she didn't do was whore herself out for cash. Except with me.

She became the talk of my small office. Only my current secretary, Mrs. Harris, and I knew what went on behind closed doors: Nancy Jean sucking me off on a regular basis. That went on for years, and only ended when she moved back to Philadelphia for a better job, living with her parents. 

This occurred after I, well, wrecked her pending marriage to one of the guys at her school. An Assistant Principal. He didn't know, until late on the night of his bachelor party, that Nancy Jean was the staring female attraction of the night. 

In disguise for the evening, she was giving blowjobs in a back room glory hole setting. Nobody knew it was her, even though there was a camera back there showing the blowjobs on a screen out front. It wasn't until the pending groom saw his son being sucked off by his soon to be wife that the shit hit the fan. 

Oops. 

Long story short Nancy Jean made her way back home to Delaware County near the R8 train to Philly and tried to turn her life around. She would still write and ask for money, and quite frankly I made it a habit of giving her some when I was in town on business. Both money and cock, that is. 

But there weren't a lot of exploits worthy of writing, until two things happened. Out of the blue two people commented on this series and sent me notes, Kristin and Steven. Their notes hit me by surprise, because the normal notes you get are complains about punctuation or grammar, or some other such irrelevant notes about stories on an erotic site. 

Both, in their own way, wanted to know if Nancy Jean was still a major league cocksucker, and both wondered if I was still tapping that mouth of hers. To the first question, I really didn't know, and to the second, well, only infrequently. 

Still their notes got my juices flowing and I gave her a call out of the blue, and Nancy Jean actually was happy to hear my voice.

"I was just going to call you," said her voice, one that always got my cock stirring whether she was talking about the weather or talking something sexual. "I got a promotion at work, and I'm thinking of getting my own place. Will you be in town anytime soon, I could use just a little help if you know what I mean."

I mentioned something about getting right to the point, but what did I expect from my ex-wife. She always had an angle, and she knew she could coerce me into things with a bobbing of her hear. Why, before moving back to Philly I had her blow me for old times sake and made her say good bye to Mrs. Harris ---- with my cum still on my ex-wife's face.

Oh, I had multiple ways of humiliating her, but it was nothing like the humiliation and hurt she caused me over the years when we were married. When she'd blow a guy then come and I'd unknowingly kiss her. Yuck!

But I got her back, big time. She blew me in my office more times than I could count, once with Mrs. Harris actually making a pre-planned walk into the office, catching us in the act. I continued to fuck Nancy Jean's face while my secretary had me sign some papers, then watched as she took a couple candid cell phone photos of my ex-wife sucking my dick. Nancy Jean was beyond embarrassed. 

Another time I took the girl on a road trip, and she sucked me off in the car under the watchful eyes of some cross-country truckers. At a rest stop she sucked one of them off, making their year and blowing my mind. Yes, I liked humiliating my ex-wife. And the woman took it. 

I guess the old adage, once a Blow Job Queen, always a Blow Job Queen, is the saying of the day. 

It's funny, for years some of my married friends complained about their wives not blowing them after marriage as much as before. I guess that's common, and in some respects it was true with Nancy Jean and I. 

After we got married the blow jobs did slow, but what I didn't know is that they only slowed for me, as she was addicted to cock and blew numerous other guys over the years we were married. Hence, after I gave her the boot, it was ironic and exciting to have her suck me off almost at will. 

# # # # 

I flew into Philadelphia International and was whisked right to an afternoon business meeting. Staying at the Marriott was comfortable, and when Nancy Jean called my room a noon the next day I was ready. We met in the lobby bar, sitting side by side, and caught up on things. 

It wasn't long before she was stroking my leg, getting me hot, and after just one drink we were on our way upstairs. We let an older couple have an elevator to them before getting our own as I pushed the 15th floor button. 

Before the door was fully closed Nancy Jean was on her haunches and I had my dick in her mouth. There was no fore play; she just started bobbing her head quickly on my dick. I had a fleeting thought of what would happen if the elevator stopped before our floor, but it didn't.

It was 20 seconds of heaven as she rose to her feet and I was barely presentable just as the door open. Good thing, as a woman was waiting for the elevator, and I swear she knew what had been going on because she gave me a knowing smile. I guess the face that Nancy Jean's hair was amiss and she was wiping her mouth when the door opened gave things away. More likely it was the piece of shirttail protruding through my zipper.

We both laughed as we walked hand in hand to my room, 1216. Once inside we kissed again, and Nancy Jean cooed that she only had a half hour as she really did have to get back to work. "I have several of reports that have to get done. Now I know how my students used to feel when I was teaching and they had deadlines."

She was feeling my cock through my pants and asked what was wrong. I wasn't fully up to the occasion, and I told her why.

"It's just, well, when we were kissing I wondered who had been in there before me."

"It's hard to believe, but I haven't had a date in a month, work has been too busy. And besides, I brushed my teeth this morning and before I came to see you," she said with a smile and a tilt of her head. "It's all yours, sweetie, I want your cock in my mouth."

Never, ever would I get anything but excited when I heard those words.

"Do you want to sit on the bed, or do you want me right here?"

Walking her toward the window, curtains wide open; I suggested that she go down on her knees and if someone from the office building across the way saw us, oh well.

Nancy Jean slithered down onto her knees and unzipped my pants. She made a production out of pulling out my dick, and then licked the tip.

"Oh I missed this," she cooed, and then she got right down to business. 

Slowly she worked her mouth down my cock, holding the base and slightly stroking me. Once she had control she began bobbing her head on my fully extended cock. The well-practiced girl knew her way around a dick and soon was sucking like the pro she was. 

One hand was on my ass while the other jerked my dick in concert with her sucking mouth, and despite all attempts I knew I wasn't going to last long. I tried looking away from her, but she was too beautiful down there. Still I looked at the building and wondered if anyone was watching. 

That was a mistake, because when that thought hit my mind my dick started throbbing and I totally lost control. She knew it too, sucking harder and faster as she sucked the cum from my core and right into her mouth. 

Her head was blistering its way up and down by cock and didn't stop until I was totally drained. 

Exhausted, I leaned against the window as Nancy Jean disengaged. She smiled, opened her mouth to show me my sauce and then made a production out of swallowing the sticky stuff down to her belly. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve and as quickly as she arrived she was gone. 

# # # # # 

I called her office later in the day and asked if I could see her the next night. I was heading home the following day and really wanted to see her again. Well, really, to make up for the nice lunchtime affair. I mean, I wanted to humiliate her, not make love to her. Damn, I was getting soft. I almost forgot how much of a slut she was and how she had hurt me so much when we were married.

She agreed, and asked if I could help with several bill payments. Of course I agreed. It was never quid pro quo, but it actually was. 

Renting a car for the day was smart for what I had in mind. We met at the hotel right after work and drove to South Philadelphia. It had been years, but the neon lights were still on and I drop into the lot and parked.

"Where are we?" asked my ex-wife, as if she couldn't read the "Girls Girls Girls sign.

"It's an adult shop, let's go have some fun," was my quick retort. 

Walking inside we noticed only a couple guys and one couple in the aisles, and we shopped around, stopping to look at some vibrators and dildos. "Look around, Nancy Jean, I want to get some change."

Sauntering over to the counter guy, I noticed his sly smile. We spoke for a minute before I sprang the question. "Do you still have some glory holes back there? My wife has never seen a booth, and I wanted to surprise her.

The guy looked at me, and then looked at my wife. "Of course. How about this. There's a blocked off area in the back left that I could open up and you guys could take a look around," said the 20-something guy. "Want a test case to give her a sample of how it works?

Nodding, he told me he'd get someone to cover the desk, head back in a couple minutes, and after would watch over things to ensure no cops were around. "They normally come in at 8, just checking for underage and rowdies, but you will be fine for an hour." 

I collected Nancy Jean, who was fixated on an eight-inch dildo, the kind where the base affixes to something solid and the girl can have her way with it. I told her to go up and pay for it, and she cooed, "But I'd be so embarrassed buying it."

Pointing to the guy, I mentioned he does this every day and it would be fine. With that I walked toward the back while she paid for her new toy. She came back; excited because the guy told her it was half off today. What a bargain. If only she knew!

We looked at some of the film boxes before walking to the dark back room filled with more than a dozen closet sized viewing rooms. Along the way Nancy Jean got stares from the guys wandering the back room. I could tell she was uncomfortable, but so be it. 

We went to the room the clerk mentioned, ducked under the tape that blocked it off, and slipped inside the viewing room. When we closed the door the light went off, and I explained that a light was on outside saying the room was occupied. I also flipped the lock and told her we were safe to watch a movie. 

I slipped 10 bucks in the machine and suddenly an X-rated film popped onto the screen. I showed Nancy Jean where to flick the switches, and she settled on a scene in a park where a girl was fellating a guy in a grove of trees.

"It's like us that time outside town," said Nancy Jean, stroking my cock. It didn't take long for me to unzip my pants and move to the side of the booth so she could lick my cock while eying the movie. Also, in this manner, she couldn't see to her right, where there was a hole in the wall big enough for a manly missile to make it's way through. Go figure.

My ex-wife blew me for a couple minutes, starting with the tantalizing licks then graduating to a full-blown bouncing of her head on my manhood. The practiced girl never ceased amazing me with her cock sucking abilities. She could be sensuous, but she could be slutty. 

I noticed a few fingers coming through the hole in the wall, then the addition of a semi-hard cock. 

"Nancy Jean, the guy in the next booth needs our help. How about helping a friend in need?"

She looked up at me, confused, and then took my cock out of her mouth. "What do you mean?"

I held her head and turned it to the right. She pulled back at the sight of the cock protruding through the glory hole. "What the hell is that," said the surprised girl.

"It's a cock, go ahead and suck it." 

Be damned if she didn't. Oh, there was a three second delay, but she slowly moved toward the dick, looking it over, then licking its tip. She licked a little and looked at me as if to ask permission. Of course I nodded my head yes.

There is something so very hot about watching a girl suck on a cock. And when that cock is of an unseen guy, one who I believed was the safe clerk from upstairs, well, that was even hotter. 

Nancy Jean worked the clerk's dick slowly, although I could tell he was rocking toward her faster than she was moving. I mean, it was like she was getting the hang of doing it while he was simply fucking. At first Nancy Jean tried to put her hand around the base of the dick, but that wasn't really possible. He wasn't big enough.

Not that he wasn't especially big. I mean, he was probably six inches, but there was at least an inch or two on the other side of the wall. After trial and error Nancy Jean realized if she closed her thumb and a finger around the cock and sucked the top part she really could make it happen. 

Her head bobbed on the cock as I fondled her sweater-covered tits. After a slow start she was doing what she does best, sucking cock, and it wasn't long before we heard a groan from the other side of the wall. "I'm going to cum, take it all," said the clerk. "Suck me off."

Nancy Jean pulled a little away and stroked the cock, bringing the guy off. He shot a large spurt that landed on her face and several others that hit her sweater and the floor. She jerked the dick until it was totally spent.

The cock went it's way, and Nancy Jean turned to me. "That was so hot, oh my that was good. You are such a bastard, you know, this is just like that bachelor party." 

The thing is, she was smiling in the dimly lit room when she said it. We talked for a few minutes as I opened the dildo package and told Nancy Jean to drop her pants. I wet the tip of the dildo and told her to sit on it, and do you know what, she was so hot it slipped right into her willing snatch. 

We noticed another cock coming through the glory hole and Nancy Jean went to work. She didn't waste any time, sucking that cock while slowly moving up and down the fake coke in her pussy. Wow.

This guy was a lot longer and more verbal. He grunted for my ex-wife to suck his dick. He called her a great cocksucker among other things and I have to think Nancy Jean was in her own element. There wasn't much foreplay on this cock, unlike the first guy she went right to work bobbing her head and sucking the dick like a practiced pro. 

At this point Nancy Jean was sitting on the fake cock, and I maneuvered it out of her pussy and moved it toward her face. Soon she had the guy's cock in her mouth and the dildo rubbing against her face. When this guy came he shot in her mouth, and I told her to spit into the upturned pocket of the dildo. Damn if she didn't. 

It was so hot holding the fake cock and watching her spit the man sauce into the thing. "You are so bad, Jon, what a perve," was all she said. 

But she didn't say much, because as soon as the one guy left another one arrived and Nancy Jean cooed that she had found the fountain of cock!

History repeated itself, as Nancy Jean blew the next four guys and spit their cum into the dildo pocket. I have to say she looked so wanton as some cum still hit her face or sweater. But she collected most of the scum and deposited it in the dildo hole. It was an assembly line of blowjobs, because as soon as one left the next came in. She would then lick the cock for a minute then get down and dirty sucking them off. 

She was in the middle of her seventh blowjob when there was a slight knock on the door. The clerk warned us the cops were upstairs and to hurry up.

Nancy Jean sucked the cock in front of her while jerking the base. She was well practiced and well lubed and while later she said her mouth hurt at this point she just worked the cock in front of her as best she could. Soon he too shot a copious load of sperm into my ex-wife's mouth. Soon it joined the other guy's cum in the dildo.

We quickly tried to make ourselves presentable, with Nancy Jean wiping her face on her sweater. Her hair was totally amiss, cum sticking various strands together. 

Right before we left the booth I opened and poured in one of those mini-bar shots of vodka into the dildo and shook it up with the cum as Nancy Jean looked on incredulously. We walked out of the booth to the stares of several guys who watched my ex-wife intently. 

We didn't know, obviously, who she had blown, only that there had been a bunch. The guys clapped as she walked down the hallway and I swear she lowered her head in embarrassment. At the end of the hall I stopped her, and told her to drink up.

With no hesitation, my ex-wife turned and smiled at the guys. She lifted the dildo to her lips, moved her head back, and swallowed the concoction with a bit of flourish. It took several gulps, but she got it all down. 

As the guys clapped, she took a bow and we walked upstairs as two gumshoes were walking down...the cops. Nancy Jean smiled at them and told them to have a great evening. 

When I dropped her at her apartment I didn't kiss her goodnight. 

But I smiled on the way back to the hotel thinking about Nancy Jean, the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High.