CHAPTER NINE

Julia Childress had not started to put her clothing on again because she had been considering giving herself a good fucking with the fat rubber prick that she kept locked in her desk. She felt like another orgasm, but she hadn’t quite made up her mind if she should give herself one, or wait until school was out and get picked up by some horny gentleman. She was just giving her stiff clit a soft rub to see how hot she really was when she heard a faint but distinct slurping sound.

Miss Childress frowned and cocked her head.

The sound came again.

It was a sound with which the lewd librarian was very familiar, although she usually heard it at closer range and on more intimate turns, being the one who caused it.

Again the soft slurping echoed through the library.

There was not the faintest doubt in Julia Childress’ mind.

Somewhere in that book-lined room, a cock was being sucked!

Was the librarian shocked or startled? Perhaps not – for she smiled in eager expectation. She moved toward the bookshelves at the back of the big room, and she moved as silently as she could because Miss Childress was an experienced voyeur in her own right and always welcomed a chance to spy on lovers.

Her voyeuristic experiences had been many, and varied.

Loving cocks as she did Miss Childress had time whereby she could get to gaze at the multitudes of big pricks. It was a clever concept. She had pinned her hair up – not to look prim this time – and hidden under a fedora hat. She was dressed in a pin-striped suit and carried an umbrella and, for all the world, Miss Childress had looked just like a man.

Wearing this masculine disguise she had gone out and frequented public toilets and baths, getting a chance to look at all the pricks that she wanted. She had ventured into the locker rooms of golf clubs and the shower rooms of youth clubs and the men’s shower rooms at swimming pools.

It had been fun – if a bit frustrating – because she was not able to have any of the cocks at which she gazed so longingly. She had been tempted to try, but had decided against it, not wanting any man to think that she was queer and not wanting any man who would allow a queer to take the sort of liberties that she would have.

One day, wearing her male disguise, Miss Childress had made a mistake that led to a new and enjoyable experience.

She had been going from bar to bar, having a drink and waiting for some handsome man to go to the bathroom so she could follow him in and inspect his prick. But after she had been to a dozen bars and had a dozen drinks, she had gotten a bit tipsy, and forgetful.

She forgot, in fact, that she was in disguise. Having a last drink in a nightclub, Miss Childress felt the need to go to the toilet herself, for reasons more natural than voyeurism and cock-watching and, without thinking, she went into the ladies room. She had just finished pissing and was about to leave when in walked one of the showgirls – a gorgeous big blonde.

“Hey you’re in the wrong room, Buster,” the girl said.

Miss Childress realized her error.

Making her voice as deep as possible, she said, “Excuse me, I must have read the sign wrong.”

Blushing, she started to leave.

But the blonde showgirl had stepped in front of her, blocking her retreat and smiling lasciviously.

“You’re a pretty good-looking fella,” the showgirl had said. “How about giving me a quick fuck while you’re here?”

Miss Childress was appalled.

How could she get out of this perilous situation?

She blurted out a silly excuse, and the showgirl gave a most suspicious look, obviously wondering if she were either impotent or queer.

Miss Childress felt obliged to offer an explanation.

Keeping her voice as deep and manly as she could, she told the blonde showgirl that she had drank too much that night and that she would be unable to perform. Miss Childress was blushing furiously as she spoke, but she guessed that a man, admitting to temporary impotency, would most likely blush, as well, and so she didn’t suppose that her coloring gave her away.

The showgirl looked Miss Childress up and down.

“Too bad,” she said.

She seemed to accept the excuse.

But then a naughty gleam came into her big blue eyes. She turned and drew the bolt on the door.

Miss Childress looked puzzled.

The showgirl faced her again, her fists on her wide, flaring hips, one thigh thrust provocatively out of her skirt, her bearing arrogant, her demeanor, superior. She tossed her head and her thick golden tresses cascaded around her heavily made-up face.

“Listen, Buster,” she said. “If you can’t get a hard-on, you can give me some head.”

Miss Childress gasped.

“I don’t do that,” she squawked.

“You do now, Buster.”

“Really! I never – I mean…”

“Don’t be an asshole,” said the showgirl, with certain eloquence. “It won’t hurt you to eat some pussy. It’s good for a guy. Especially…” – she looked at Miss Childress with disdain, her sensual lip curling up in a sneer – “…especially a guy that can’t hold his drink and can’t get a hard-on when a girl wants some prick.”

Miss Childress shook her head.

“Well, okay, asshole, then I’ll call the management and tell them there’s a pervert in here,” the showgirl threatened.

Miss Childress was horrified.

The showgirl didn’t know how true that was! What if they carted her off to jail and discovered that she was in drag? They would certainly get the wrong idea about her motives. They would think that she was a dirty old lesbian.

How would she ever be able to explain that she was anything but, that her male masquerade was designed strictly so that she could get a look at a multitude of cocks? Even if they believed her, it was probably ever bit as illegal as being a traditional transvestite. How in hell could she get out of this situation? She saw that the showgirl was slightly intoxicated and not in the mood to be reasoned with.

She was in the mood to get sucked, instead. Now that blonde bombshell had lifted her skirt and tugged her panties down, displaying the golden glory of her groin. Her pubic hair was a mane of thick curls. She tilted her pelvis forward and parted her lush thighs. Her cunt was open and wet. Smiling, she lovingly drew her hand along her crotch and her cunt lips unfurled further, the pussy hole already filled with the juices of lust.

Miss Childress stared at the showgirl’s cunt. “C’mon, Buster, eat me out,” urged the blonde.

Miss Childress had never before considered sucking a cunt. She loved cocks and she had always been strictly heterosexual. But now she had to admit that the showgirl’s juicy pussy did look rather delicious. And what choice did she have, really? If she refused to do it, the woman was going to report her to the management. It seemed that Miss Childress had no options. She was going to have to eat that cunt!

As soon as she resigned herself to the fact, Miss Childress found that the idea was not at all unpleasant, that the prospect was exciting, rather than disconcerting. Dressed as a woman, she would never have done it, but in her disguise as a man – well, who would ever know? She could suck that sweet-looking cunt as much as the showgirl wanted – and the fact that she had committed a deviant act would never be revealed to the world.

She smiled timidly.

“Well, all right,” she whispered.

“That’s better,” the showgirl said.

Miss Childress slowly sank to her knees before the blonde. The showgirl was grinning in anticipation and Miss Childress, too, was looking forward to this new experience with pleasant expectations. She licked her lips. The showgirl thrust her hips forward, her sleek thighs parting pound the librarian’s face and her creamy cunt jamming in.

Miss. Childress hesitated for a moment.

Then she buried her head in that soaking crotch and began to gobble her first cunt with relish.

From the very first taste, Miss Childress realized that cunt-sucking was an enjoyable task!

It startled her to realize that she adored doing it.

She ran her tongue up the girl’s pussy with long, moist slurps. She licked and sucked on the stiff clit. She stabbed up the hole as far as her tongue would reach. Although this was her first time, she seemed to know just how to do it, as if cunt-sucking were the most natural thing in the world, the sort of thing that a girl just knew how to do automatically, without any need for experience or practice.

And she realized that she was getting as much pleasure as the showgirl was, that her hot tongue was tingling just as much as the stiff clit she was licking, and that she was going to have an orgasm merely by sucking the woman off!

Miss Childress cupped the showgirl’s hips in her hands and tilted her head back, slurping on that flowing pussy. The showgirl began to twitch. Her hips jolted as if she were on stage, doing her sensual routine before an audience. Her gently rounded belly churned against Miss Childress’ brow and her thighs clamped around the librarian’s cheeks as she worked her foaming cunt against that eagerly sucking mouth and stabbing tongue.

“Come – come – come!” Miss Childress moaned.

Now that she knew the joy of sucking pussy, she was eager to know what it was like to have a woman cream in her mouth. She was sucking with such vigor now that her head was bobbing up and down violently and her fedora fell off.

The showgirl gasped, staring.

Miss Childress looked up, frightened that she had been discovered but her mouth was still clamped on that sucking cunt like a limpet to a mossy rock. She was terrified that the showgirl would reject her, now that her sex was known – that not only would she be arrested and exposed, but that she was not going to know the joy of having the blonde come on her tongue.

The big blonde had been shocked and amazed when the falling fedora had revealed her oral lover to be a girl.

But then the surprised faded from her face and she smiled.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” she said.

Miss Childress wanted desperately to explain that she was not a lesbian, but that she had been forced by circumstances into this act – but she didn’t want to remove her mouth from the showgirl’s cunt long enough to offer an explanation.

Then it wasn’t necessary.

“Keep right on sucking, honey,” said the showgirl.

Miss Childress kept sucking and the showgirl, far from being put off, responded with even more vigor as she worked her frothy cunt around in the librarian’s upturned face.

“Suck-suck-suck,” panted the show girl.

“Come – come – come…” whimpered the cunt-hungry librarian.

Then, with a wail and a moan, the blonde bombshell creamed and Miss Childress found herself gobbling up mouthfuls of sweet cunt juice and swallowing the delicious stuff down, discovering that making a woman come with her mouth was a wonderful experience.

She was happy, when, afterwards, the showgirl went down on her and sucked her off, as well.

A new dimension had been added to Miss Childress’ life.

Julia Childress still adored cocks – and plenty of them – but every once in a while she got the urge to do some cunt-sucking and found that there were any number of sexy girls who were only too pleased to spread their legs for a librarian’s tongue.

Sometimes, wearing her disguise, she pretended that she was a man when she went down on them and at other times, dressed as a woman, she pretended she was a lesbian. But it was only a pretense, she assured herself. Miss Childress was no lesbian.

She just happened to like sucking cunt.

And so it was that Miss Childress silently advanced to the back of the library, following the slurping sounds of a blow job in process…

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