THE CHRONICLES OF BLOWJOB BRITTANY, THE FIXER

 

 

 

CHAPTER 1

 

I have always been good at negotiating and blowjobs. The first time I swallowed a cock, it was the boy’s sixteenth birthday. Because he was so popular, I became popular. What he gave me was an image. Since that day at the park while several of my less adventurous friends looked on, I have never ever sucked a dick for free, except for Nick’s. But that’s a different story. And no, I’m not a porn star or high-class hooker. I am simply a fixer and college professor.

As I walked into Starbucks, I took in Joann Dudley, a plain woman who wore a polka-dot dress in the twenty-first century. Her large glasses teetered on the edge of her freckle-splashed nose. She was cute, in a nerdy librarian sort of way. This was my first time seeing her, but I had a way of putting faces to the voices of my clients.

“You are gorgeous,” said Joann, eyes wide. I had that effect on men and women. The later either loved or hated me. Insecure women see another pretty woman and immediately go on the offensive, believing the other is out to steal her man.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said placing my purse on the chair beside me. My Yorkie Charles peeked his head out and sniffed around. I took out a pen and pad.

“I understand you have a problem that needs fixing.”

She explained to me that she was an aspiring actress. Thus far, her agent had been able to secure her a miniscule amount of work, mostly in local commercials. A college professor and his students were producing a movie and she had tried out for the lead role. Although she felt she had the talent, a prettier girl had also tried out for the role.

“Do you think she had an ounce of talent?” I asked.

Joann shrugged. “She’s my younger sister. I’ve seen her act. She’s not as good as I am but she’s good.”

I smirked. “Sibling rivalry. Hot.”

She slid me a picture of the professor and one of the students. I knew them both. The younger man was a student of mine, maybe five or six years my junior. He was thin, wore large braces and seemed generally buttoned up.

“So, who’s dick do I have to suck?” Some of the other patrons looked at me, wild-eyed as if they hadn’t sucked a cock or ten.

She placed a finger on the picture of Harold. “His. Harold is the director. The professor just supervises. How much do I owe you?”

“Twenty percent of what you get when you land the role.”

“What if I don’t get the role?”

I licked my lips, as I stood. “Once he feels these lips, you’ll have recurring roles in his films.”

 

***

 

“I’m glad you could make time to see me, Prosecutor,” I said, crossing my legs to reveal the smooth flesh partially covered by my short red dress.

Prosecutor Danielson rolled his eyes over my frame, before turning his back to me and staring out over the lake.

His large office smelled like pinecone and coffee. The American flag hung in the corner, just above a picture of Abraham Lincoln. His redwood desk was neatly piled with folders of paperwork. I relaxed more in the chair, allowing its soft cushions to cool my skin.

Danielson took the seat across the desk. “What is it I can do for you?”

I showed him a picture. “Ryan Dawson is going to trial soon. I want the case dropped.”

He laughed until his face was purple. “Even if I could, what makes you think that I would have his robbery case dropped?”

“Oh, but you will.”

He made a grand gesture, as he took his seat. “What would the people of Illinois think of that? I have sworn to uphold the law by all means.”

I swiftly kneeled before him. “Didn’t they teach you in law school to make deals?”

His slacks immediately tented. His conceited sneer was replaced with amazement. He went from baffled to indignant to willing, all within a moment. I rubbed my hand across his crotch, grazing his cock as I did so. It was so hard, it could be snapped in two. I locked eyes with him, commanding his full attention.

“Do you know how difficult it was for me to get a meeting with you?” I asked, as he nodded. “Now, you’re going to drop all charges against Ryan today and I am going to give you the blowjob of a lifetime.” He continued to nod, even when I stopped speaking.

I released my hair and let it sweep his lap like a golden waterfall. Taking his wrist, I placed his hand on my silky hair. He exhaled, as he ran his fingers through it. I pulled his underwear and pants under his knees, the scent of his manhood mixed with Old Spice splashing my face. His cock was average, but his balls were miniature coconuts. I lightly caressed his dick and balls, while running my stiletto nails over his thighs. The sensation made him thrust his hips toward me.

I slowly stroked his cock, gripping hard enough to make him feel it, but softly enough so that cumming was out of reach. As I breathed on him, he sharply groaned, his eyes never leaving mine. Kissing around his shivering thighs, I left red lips on him. I loved to tease a man, have him know how close yet so far away he was from ultimate bliss.

I placed long kisses on his sac, occasionally blessing it with a bit of wet tongue. His balls instantly drew up, becoming more rugged by the second. As I took his nuts in one at a time and then as a whole, I stroked his veiny dick. The ridges of his balls were so stiff, it was like running my tongue over the grooves of a Ruffles chip.

The head of his penis swelled to the point of rupture. The skin was so tight, I thought it would split. Clear liquid spilled from the hole. I dabbed it with my tongue, the sticky goo swinging between us.

I licked the sides and tip, swirling my tongue until his cock glistened. I sucked just the head while cupping his balls. Excitement coursed through my veins, encouraging me to be bolder. His fingers were deep in my tresses, while I bounced my head relentlessly.

As soon as I throated it, Danielson flinched. Easily, his cock slid past my tonsils and down my throat. I momentarily held it there, my nose pressed against his pubic bone. Saliva poured down his lap to his chair.

He jumped when his door opened. His intern was there, but I had a mission to complete. I continued without a second thought. If she saw me, so be it. I had nothing to lose.

“Your visitor left?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Um, sure. No. Yes. How can I help you?”

She dropped something on the desk. I heard her heels clacking away. “Those are the files you asked me for.” The door closed.

“Shit. Fuck yes,” he said, pumping himself balls-deep into my mouth.

While I had him fully in my mouth, I hummed like I was in a choir. I joyfully watched his eyes roll to the back of his head. He was beyond ready. I jerked him, as I sucked the tip and toggled his balls. As he came, I lifted my head and pumped him twice as hard. Ropes of semen shot to the ceiling, splattering on his lap, desk and everywhere else. Job well done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

I dropped my chalk, turning to the class. “And that is how the Theory of Relativity works.”

As a professor, I was always apprehensive about my two lines of work crossing paths. Each offered something the other didn’t. Being a professor gave me a chance to teach, to change minds and explore ideas. As a fixer, I made deals and broke wills.

I took the last few questions, before class was officially over. Many of the students were astounded by the Theory of Relativity and the many possibilities it brought to life. Harold was more reserved, less enthused about the subject. The smart ones were usually that way.

“See you all Wednesday,” I said, waiting while they exited. I told Harold I needed him to stay.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, placing his bookbag on the desk.

“I’ll explain,” I said.

When Joann initially showed me the picture of Harold, I was going to reject the deal. I didn’t operate on campus in that capacity, but the prospect intrigued me. Secretly, I had always wanted to screw a student. I would never do it for pleasure, just business.

When the large room emptied, I summoned Harold to my desk. He searched me with his eyes, obviously nervous. His expression told me that he knew something was amiss but not what. In his mind, he had probably played out this scenario a hundred times, not thinking it would ever come true.

“You have fucked me with your eyes every day since you’ve been in my class,” I said. He tried to say something, but I held up a finger. “I would not ever have sex with one of my students.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you. Please don’t report me,” he said.

I smiled, and he became even more confused. I told him about Joann.

“I already picked the other girl,” he said.

I pushed him against my desk and took him by the belt buckle. “Or so you thought.”

For a thin gangly guy, Harold had a large uncircumcised penis. The foreskin was smooth and long, stretched over the tip like an inside out glove. I pulled it back, revealing a meaty head. Without bending my knees, I kissed the tip.

“Joann wants that role, and you’re going to give it to her,” I said. He wordlessly bobbed his head.

I could tell from the way his knees shook that this would be a quick encounter. He could barely breathe. There was no need to jerk him, seeing how solid his wood was. I had ten minutes before my next class arrived and this room had at least four entrances. I could’ve taken Harold to my office, but that would have killed the rush.

I practically ate his cock, during the short time we had. Although I knew just this moment was enough for him, I put my heart and soul into pleasing him. As I squatted and he leaned against my desk, I took him to heaven and back. So much nut drained from him that I thought he would melt away.

“Thank you,” he said, fixing his pants.

I laughed because I had never been thanked for a blowjob before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 

At home, I tuned into Netflix to catch up on “Orange is the New Black.” I was a season behind, due to my busy work schedule. Not two minutes into the first episode, my doorbell rang. It was just after seven p.m.

I was hesitant to get up, but when I checked the peephole, I was excited and confused. Donna barged in, when I opened the door. She was wearing sunglasses and a coat that could fit two of her.

“Close the door, close the door,” she said hurriedly.

“Well, I’m fine. How are you?” I said.

“Don’t be sarcastic,” she said, giving me a hug. “I haven’t seen you in?”

“Forever,” I said, deadpan.

“Where’s the wine?”

Thirty minutes later, we were in my bed reminiscing about high school. Even though I was better looking, Donna had always been more popular than I was. She had the voice of an angel and won more talent shows than anyone I knew. It wasn’t a surprise when she signed a record deal shortly after high school.

“Your last album was awesome,” I said, a little tipsy from the red wine. We were sitting Indian style.

She smiled, showing her gap. “Thanks. That’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t know anything about selling records.”

“Not that. There’s a new girl on the label. Word is, the label is considering shelving my upcoming album for hers.”

Donna was one of the hottest artist on the radio. Her last album had gone double-platinum. The music industry was dirty, willing to drop something hot for the promise of something hotter.

“Who do you want me to do?” I asked.

“Derrick Albright, Charles Pence and Eric Foreman.”

She explained to me that Derrick Albright was the CEO. His word was gold, but he relied on Charles Pence, the talent agent and Eric Foreman, record producer, to make decisions. It was complicated, because a no from one of them could shape how the others responded. It was do-or-die for her career.

“I can’t go to California,” I said, finishing my glass of wine. She dutifully refilled my glass.

“They’ll all be here in Chicago for a small party,” she said.

“I’m sure these guys have more security than Oprah.”

“I’m friends with Nick on Facebook. He could make some identification to get you in.”

The name alone made me cringe, as if being handled by an eighty-year-old creep. Nick had been my high school sweetheart, before sleeping with my sister. His talent for falsifying documents and IDs was what had sent him to prison.

Donna smiled. “He has a great bod now.”

I jumped from the bed and paced the floor. “No. There has to be someone else who can cook up some fake credentials.”

“No one as good as Nick.”

She was right. It would be a hard pill to swallow, but we would have to work with Nick. I felt like throwing up in my mouth. I hated him almost as much as a part of me still loved him.

 

***

 

Nick had always been attractive, but the years had filled him out. He now had facial hair and muscles, the later most likely a product of his stint down state. His slanted smile melted me on the inside.

He lived in a scarcely furnished studio apartment. Outside of a few computers and electronics, there was barely anything here. The chairs looked like something he had built himself. I was scared to sit down.

“Did we really have to come here?” I asked. I felt highly uncomfortable, but Donna just laughed.

Nick smiled. “I told Donna I would do this only if I could see you.”

My stomach filled with butterflies, but I consciously fought his charm. “Well, you’ve seen me. Let’s get this over with.”

He took a camera from his computer desk. “Smile,” he said to me, snapping a picture.

Donna and I talked while he printed the picture and placed it on the ID he had made. He was very careful with how he handled everything. His process was slow but effective.

“I have to pee,” said Donna.

He pointed down the hall without looking. She went to the restroom and he handed me the credentials. I was Brittany Battlefield, a reporter for FOX News. I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes.

“This is my real name,” I said.

“Exactly. If they ask you for a state ID or other identification, you’ll have it.”

His logic made sense. This way was easier, since I didn’t have to remember to be someone else. I knew nothing about reporting, but I was a quick study.

Nick sat beside me and placed a warm palm on my thigh. “I think about you all the time.”

My instinct was to move his hand, but I didn’t. “I don’t believe you.”

He placed a kiss on my lips that shook me from the inside. I drank his lips like the last ounce of water in Death Valley. Nick had always been a good kisser. This was sex with our lips.

His hands were trained well, found their way between my panties and skin to the space between my thighs. I arched my hips and spread my legs wider, but his fingers just couldn’t get inside. I licked his lips, sucking them, while I moaned into his mouth. I pulled his hand away when I heard Donna coming.

He licked his fingers. “You haven’t sex since. . .”

“Since we did in high school,” I said.

Since his betrayal, no man had penetrated me. Granted, I had sucked enough dick to repopulate the planet. But I had vowed all those years ago to never give myself away to a man that way until marriage. That way, he would be stuck with me. Or at least until one of us filed for divorce.

Nick was astonished by my lack of sex. There was a thought on the tip of his tongue, but Donna was here. She glanced between the two of us and squinted.

“Well, I’ll be on my way,” she said, a knowing smile.

I stood. “Me too.”

On our way out, Nick tried to hug me, but I shoved him away, even though I wanted to fall into his arms. I was a schoolgirl all over again.

 

.***

 

At home, I recalled the time Nick and I had fucked on the beach. That night beneath the glistening stars was the first time Nick ever made me cum. We were not alone. Another couple was somewhere out here. We could hear the girl moaning. Even so, it felt like we were the only ones in the universe.

That memory made me sweat. I got in the shower and turned the nozzle on blast. My clit was swollen with anticipation. I spread my flaming pink lips to get a better angle on my bud. The water felt like a thousand tongues licking me from every direction. I came within minutes, screamed to the top of my lungs while my legs wobbled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 4

 

The next two days were hell. Midterm grades were due soon, and I was still reading papers. The university should have given me an assistant or at least an aide. They were so tight with money because of Governor Rauner, that was a dream. The State’s budget was still deadlocked and at any moment, the funding to the university could be cut cold. As I sat in my office thumbing through papers, I wondered if sucking off Rauner could change my circumstances.

I groaned when someone knocked at my door. My cluttered office was the size of a small cubicle. It was barely big enough to hold the things already here. The last thing I wanted was to inhale the garlic breath of a student. Upon opening the door, I immediately felt cornered.

“Hello, sweetness,” Nick said, his grin wider than his face.

“How did you find me?” I asked, taking a step back.

“You work at a public university. Mind if I come in?” he asked only as a pretense, stepping around me.

I pursed my lips and closed the door. “What do you want?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

He took the seat near mine. “Nice place. Reminds me of home.”

As much as I wanted him to leave, I wanted him to stay. I knew he wasn’t going to leave easily, so I played the game, still refusing to sit down. He reclined his chair and let his eyes undress me.

“Even prettier than when we younger,” he said, licking his lips.

“At least one of us are. Look, Nick, I have things to do. What do you want?”

That grin again. “I just wanted to checkup on an old friend.”

The sincerity of his words irritated me. I wanted so badly to believe him. This was the same guy who had slept with my sister. He couldn’t be trusted. I kept that at the forefront of my mind.

He thumbed the papers on my desk. “What’s all this crap?”

“Work,” I said. “It’s what gets me legitimate paychecks, something you know little of.”

“You seem tense.”

He stood and turned me by the shoulders. His strong hands gripped me like a violin. He played music with my soul. I let my shoulders fall, as I closed my eyes. His fingers dipped into every tense muscle and soothed every sore bone. I rolled my shoulders to his touch, by inner thighs moistening from the sensation.

Then his hands were beneath my bra, his tongue on my neck. I tried to say “stop,” wanted to, but my body wouldn’t allow me. Lifting my skirt, he pulled my panties to the side and dipped his tongue into my wetness from behind. My legs quivered, as I fought to keep grip on reality. I knew I was moaning, but this was like an outer body experience. I was on the edge of climax.

“Stop,” I said, more to myself than to him. “Stop.” I pushed his head away.

He stood, displeased. “I thought we were having a moment.”

“The moment is over. It ended the day you slept with my sister.” I shimmied my dress down.

“Did you ever ask you sister how my body looked, about the scar on my chest? How my dick leans to the left?”

I didn’t say anything, the silence heavily unbearable. I opened the door.

“You never denied it,” I said, as he left.

His grin was humorless this time, as he stared me eye-to-eye. “If I would’ve, would you have taken my word or your sister’s?” He slammed the door behind himself.

 

***

 

While waiting in the bar, I pondered Nick’s last question. Not once had I questioned the authenticity of what Bree had told me. I was only a couple of minutes older than she was. Everyone always told us that we were the prettiest twins they had seen. When she had told me that she’d “accidentally” slept with Nick, I was furious. I had grown to hate him for driving this wedge between us.

The last time Bree and I had spoken was the day she went off to college. It wasn’t much of a conversation. As Mom and Dad fussed over her leaving, I simply said, “Bye.” That was the last thing I had said to her. Now, I had an urge to reach out to her and find out if she had been telling the truth. This was a conversation to be had in person, but she lived in Dallas. I pushed the thought away.

I did not consider myself lesbian, not even bi-sexual. Women were pretty and soft and smelled good, but the hard body of a man is what did it for me. But business was business. I adjusted the thirteen-inch strap-on under my jeans. My target would be in the bar any moment.

Maggie Martin was the CEO of REACH, a not-for-profit organization. My client, Carly, was potentially the new director, but her competition was stiff. She needed me to make it easier for her. I used to shy away from girl-on-girl encounters. Recently, I began seeing them as a necessary evil of business.

Maggie was stunning, more striking than the photos. She was of the rare beauty that could not be encapsulated by photo. Her long auburn hair draped down her bare back. If I had a cock, it would have grown twice its regular length. I readjusted the dildo, feeling my womanhood beginning to drench.

I got up from my table and took the seat at the bar right next to Maggie. Although I kept my head straight, I could feel her glance at me. A song by The Chainsmokers was playing over the conversations of the other patrons.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I said to Maggie, leaning close enough to breathe on her neck.

She darted her eyes around, as if seeking who I was talking to. “Me? Ok. But I’m not gay.”

“Labels are for suckers.”

Six shots of Grey Goose later, Maggie was telling me about her secret fantasy of having an orgy with five other women. She felt like her marriage was a sham because she needed penetration, yet she loved the shape of women. “It’s like that Ed Sheeran song,” she said.

“Be gentle,” she said, as I closed the bathroom stall behind us. I had already exposed my angle and she was fine with it.

Our hands rubbed each other’s thighs and breasts. Her body was tender, moist and welcoming. I tasted the mint left behind by her chewing gum. Pulling away, I gazed into her hazel eyes. I lifted her dress and stuffed my finger deep inside of her ocean. She groaned from the pressure.

I took control, forcing her to bend forward. As I pulled her panties down, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of her watery womanhood. I dropped my pants and freed my thick dildo, lubricating it with her natural juices. I groped her large, puffy-nipple breasts while sliding inside of her. She had a Kim Kardashian ass that I relished while her third eye winked at me.

People trafficked in and out of the restroom, but Maggie did not care. Each time I stroked out, I went all the way back in, until my skin smacked against hers. Her titties rocked back and forth, as she screamed from the intense pleasure. The strap-on was drenched in milky fluid. My finger in her ass sent her over the edge. She orgasmed so hard that she twitched and cursed. As a thank you, she sucked the dildo clean.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 5

 

Charles Pence was the talent agent and he was relatively young. He wore skinny jeans, sunglasses and earrings too flashy to be fake. As I walked behind him down the hall of the Ritz Carlton, I knew he was an easy mark. If it were not for the loud, boisterous Beats by Dr. Dre headphones he wore, I would have called out to him.

I had done research on the three men who were poised to shelve Donna’s album and potentially put her career on ice. Charles was a shit starter, his name having been mentioned in half a dozen police reports. Because he was everywhere the action was, he was a great talent agent.

As I entered the elevator behind him, a woman yelled for us to wait on her. The headphones prevented him from hearing, and I ignored her. No man or woman stood in the way of work. The door closed and I heard her banging on it.

Charles pressed the bottom button and looked at me, as if asking me which floor. I hit the red button. The elevator screeched to a stop. He took the headphones off, obviously pissed.

“What the fuck, lady?” he said, hands in the air.

With the Derrick Albright and Eric Forman, I would have to use more finesse. Charles was a straight shooter, so I figured it was best to be forward with him. I placed a hand on his chest and stepped closer.

“You have something I want,” I said, biting my bottom lip. “You know Donna, right?”

He looked at my reporter credentials. “I’m not doing an interview,” he said, reaching for the buttons. I blocked his way.

I moved in just inches away from him. My voice was low and sultry. “My friend’s album will not be shelved.”

It was as if Charles was in a trace. Sticking my hand down his skinny denim jeans was a task. It took forever to unbutton them. They were at least two sizes too small. The hardness of his cock thrilled me.

Sensually, I placed my lips on his, gliding my tongue around them like lip gloss. “I’m going to do you a favor and you’re going to do me a favor.”

“I can’t make any promises,” he said, stuttering. “There’s two other guys.”

“Let me worry about them.”

Dropping to my knees, I extended my tongue as far as it would go. Charles was a cleanly shaved metrosexual, his skin smooth as a conman. My tongue landed in the gap between his asshole and sac, causing him to stand on his tiptoes. I hadn’t even started yet and he was trembling. Silently, I congratulated myself, a victory won before the battle had even begun.

His cock was extra-long and thin. I sucked along the sides and down the center, rotating between fast and slow to get a feel for what he liked. Whenever I got rough, he groaned a little louder. I used my tongue as a guide for his dick to slide down my throat. Because it wasn’t that wide, it fit perfectly and rubbed places no other penis had.

I told him to yank my hair, and he readily complied. I slobbered all over his jeans and the elevator floor. It sounded like a washing machine malfunctioning. That drove him crazier. Five minutes into the blowjob, he was pumping my face as if there were no tomorrow. He screamed when he shot his load.

After wiping myself clean, I started the elevator. Charles was in the corner mumbling to himself with his eyes closed. He was possessed, because I had snatched his soul.

 

***

 

The party was small, but there were a bunch of power players here, yet none of the actual artists. The people here worked behind the scenes. They were the brain of the record labels. Most people did not know who they were, but collectively, these people were worth billions.

Eric Foreman was an older gentleman who came off as shy and reserved. He held short polite conversations with people who approached him, but mostly looked on. For his age, he seemed fit. I had to be careful with him.

“Enjoying the party,” I asked, standing next to him.

Mr. Foreman didn’t look at me longer than two seconds. I was dressed as a reporter would be, conservatively. Either way, I was still hot. This felt like the cold shoulder. Or maybe he was such a gentleman that he did not want to make me feel uncomfortable.

He shrugged. “It could be better. I never really like these things. They’re boring.” He read my press badge. “FOX? How do you feel about Trump?”

“What is there to feel?” I asked. “We’re getting what we elected.”

“He actually didn’t win the popular vote.”

“He won the electoral vote. I know, but we’re stuck with him.”

Mr. Foreman smirked. “Smart cookie. Let’s make a bet. I bet you can’t get them to play some better music.”

“Deal.” It took me all of two minutes to convince the DJ to play some rap music. Within minutes, everyone was dancing and mingling more, even Eric.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, as we sat down together on the sofa. “You’re a brave one.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. I rubbed his crotch. It caught him off guard, but he didn’t stop me.

“Wanna go for a ride in my limo?” He asked.

As we rode the Dan Ryan, we took in the bright lights of the city. It was a beautiful place given a bad name by overzealously nervous reporters.

“When is Donna’s next album coming,” I asked, breaking the reverie.

“I don’t know. The CEO, Derrick Albright, is really set on releasing this younger artist. It’s all about numbers,” he said.

“What do you want?”

“I could go either way.”

I unzipped his fly and kissed the tip of his cock. “I really want to hear Donna’s new album.”

He moaned. “I’ll try and convince Derrick, but he’ll probably run it across his boyfriend.”

“He’s gay?”

“As a sailor.” My heart dropped to my stomach, knowing I had an uphill battle to fight. I put it to the back of my mind and handled Mr. Foreman for the moment.

 

***

 

As I rode in the back of an Uber, I used Facebook Messenger to call Donna. My blood pressure was through the roof. Had she been next to me, I probably would have socked her in the jaw. She finally answered.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hearing her moan.

“One. Second,” she said, her phone falling to the bed. She was in full orgasm.

“Ew,” I said, when she finally picked the phone up again.

“What?”

“You didn’t think to tell me Derrick Albright is gay?”

“Didn’t seem important.”

I bit my lip, counted to ten. “I am a woman. I’m the last thing he wants.”

“Try fucking him or swallowing his nut.”

Two things I did not do were swallow the semen of my marks or fuck them. There were boundaries for a reason. Not once had I ever failed a client or aborted a mission though. This was a double-edged sword.

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick,” said Donna. “His flight leaves tomorrow night.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Derrick Albright was one of the hardest type of gays to convert. From what I read on him, he had been gay forever. He had no “beard,” a girl he used to hide his homosexuality from the world. There was no chance that he had ever slept with a woman at all.

I slammed my laptop closed and sighed in frustration. This was a brick wall. Because I had already submitted midterms grades, I had some spare time. That meant nothing if I couldn’t get my mission done. So, I got in the shower and took care of my personal hygiene, before calling Nick.

Lew was Nick’s gay cousin. Lew and I had been friends in high school, but we sort of lost communication. If anyone could help me, it was him. My only way to him was through Nick, so I phoned him.

“You finally came around,” Nick said smugly.

“I need to talk to Lewis,” I said, all business.

“If I give you his number, you have to meet me this week for lunch.”

I gritted my teeth. “Fine.”

When I got off the phone with Nick, I called Lew. He was ecstatic to hear from me after all these years. There was a ton of noise in his background. I decided it was best if we met at his job.

 

***

 

Lew worked as a hair stylist in the most questionable hair salon I had ever come across. The weed-smoking patrons were loud and unruly. The stylists were just as loud and smoked just as much weed. I thought I was in the wrong place, until I saw Lew waving from the back.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a hug. I looked around. “Isn’t it illegal to smoke in public places?”

Lew giggled. “The law has no place here.” He tapped on a chair. “Girl, sit down and talk to me.”

He pulled up a chair and we caught up. The large rock on his hand was an engagement ring. Apparently, he had meet an older sugar daddy who was going to change his life. I told him about my line of work, both of them.

“In. Ter. Est. Ing,” he said, breaking the word into four separate words. “What can I do to help?”

After I told him of my dilemma, he silently nodded, as if in deep thought. “Lifetime gays all want to be with a woman at least once.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Just for the experience, to make sure they aren’t missing anything. You just better hope the Derrick guy hasn’t already done it.”

 

***

 

If I had any time left, it was not a bunch. Derrick Albright would be leaving soon for his flight. There was no way I was going to be able to get into his room without a ruse. Fresh out of high school, I had worked as a housekeeper, so I knew a thing or two about that line of work.

At the Ritz Carlton, I bypassed the security desk and made a few bad turns before coming across a room of uniforms and carts. I chose the smallest uniform, not that it would really help. My phone vibrated. This was the third call from Donna. I turned my phone off. She could wait until after I got done with Mr. Albright.

I pushed a cart down the hall, and saw Mr. Albright going into his room. I yelled “housekeeping” a few times, before he stopped and turned on his heel. He was definitely gay. There was no spark or dazzle in his eyes the way there was when men first met me.

“I’m just here to tidy up a bit,” I said, waving a duster.

He looked at his watch. “Can’t that wait? I’m checking out soon.”

I stepped past him into the room. It took him a few seconds to close the door. He was plainly agitated. Taking the chair near the desk, he read a newspaper and sipped his coffee. I had neglected to put my underwear back on. As I bent and made a pretense of dusting, I knew that if he even glanced this way, he would get a snapshot of my vagina. But he didn’t.

“All done,” I said.

He placed a twenty on the table beside him. “Good day then.”

“Wait. Aren’t you Derrick Albright?”

“What is it to you?”

“It’s just that my favorite artist is on your label. Donna.”

“Yeah,” he said shortly, turning back to his paper.

I sat on the desk, my legs wide enough for him to get a glimpse between. “I’ve been dying for her new record to be released.” I placed a hand on his shoulder.

He took my wrist with two fingers and dropped it away from him. He stared me in the face. “I know you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re the girl in the pictures with Donna.” A genuine smile eased his wrinkled face. “Did she put you up to this?”

I shook my head and held up two hands. “No.”

He laughed. “That’s why I like that girl. She’s clever. But you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Donna is a great artist. She deserves to have her record released on time.”

“I agree. That’s why I approved the budget to have it on shelves soon.”

I squealed like a little girl. “So, I don’t have to sleep with you?”

“Honey, we were never going to sleep together,” he said, smirking.”

I gathered my clothes from the cart in the hall and changed in Mr. Albright’s bathroom. Donna had sent me a text twenty minutes ago, saying that Mr. Albright had been convinced by Charles and Mr. Foreman to release her album. That’s why she had called me all those times. I hugged Mr. Albright goodbye.

My mission was complete, but I still had some loose ends to deal with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 7

 

It was eleven a.m. when my flight back to Chicago landed. My sit-down with my twin sister, Bree, had been very enlightening. After lying initially, she admitted that she had not ever slept with Nick. She had made it all up to gain more popularity. In high school, she had considered herself to be the “ugly twin,” because of her braces.

I kind of felt bad for Bree. We had not spoken in years over a lie that she never should have told. That was in the past. It was time to move on and rebuild our sistership. I breathed in the Chicago air and let it flush my lungs.

“So, you’re saying you believe I didn’t sleep with Bree?” Nick said, finishing his steak. We were at the Grand Lux Café.

I had not told Nick of the meeting with my sister. There was no need for him to know. If he found out, he would think that I trusted my sister’s word more than his. Our relationship had already been damaged once. It did not have to happen again.

“This is what I believe,” I said, sinking beneath the table. The maroon tablecloth acted as a cover.

Nick’s cock was larger than I’d remembered it. It was impossible to wrap my hand around his thick, chocolate wood. And his sac swelled like there were basketballs inside. There was a bit of fuzz on his nuts, but I appreciated them that way. I firmly jerked his cock, delighted by how his balls bounced, no pun intended.

I rubbed my face against his sac, while pumping his cock. At the same time, I spread my engorged pussy lips and toyed with my clit. My pussy was so wet, I knew the floor would be slippery. As precum leaked from him, I used his dick as a paint brush to coat my face with his stickiness.

Nick’s dark, tree-trunk-like cock had always been my Kryptonite. I traced my tongue across the bottom and swiveled my tongue around the head. His leg shook furiously, as he dug his fingers through my hair. I tucked his cock between my teeth and cheek, creating a gigantic bulge on my face.

Even with his penis being so enormous, I still deepthroated him to the hilt and held him there. I could literally feel his cock at the bottom of my throat. There were no gag reflexes. He groaned and forced me down even further.

Taking him from my mouth, I spit on his dick until it was glistening. I sucked the tip, then devoured the whole thing in one motion. Repeatedly, I brought him to the brink of cumming. Finally, he let loose a load so large that I had to swallow a mouthful four times. His nut was as sweet as almond milk. I licked the hole of his penis, draining it of all fluid.

As I came from under the table, our waiter approached our table. He grinned, and I winked at him. Nick adjusted his pants but avoided eye contact with the man.

“I hope you two have enjoyed eating here,” he said, collecting out plates.

“That was fucking awesome,” said Nick.

“It’s not over,” I said. “I want you to fuck me.”

 

***

 

It was not extremely warm out, but our body heat was enough to warm a cabin. Nick had played in my pussy the whole drive over to the beach, the one we had fucked in all those years ago. I was his instrument, and he knew how to strum a clit. He fed me my own juices from the palm of his hand.

“There’s only a few people out here,” he said, as we walked barefoot on the sand.”

“What a shame,” I said, sighing. “I wish there were more.”

As we kissed, we fell to the sand, me on top of him. I pulled my dress over my head, my d-cups bouncing perfectly to attention. Nick ran his hands over them, sending tingly sensations through my nipples. He sucked them one at a time, gave them equal care. This man knew how to touch a woman.

He told me to squat over his face, and I did, too weak to resist. His tongue swiped from my asshole back to my clit. As he flicked his powerful tongue on my bud, I rode his face and screamed his name. Some of the other beachgoers were watching, but I was not phased. When he stuck his tongue inside my pussy hole, that was the last straw.

“Baby, I’m cumming,” I said, grinding my pussy on his face. My spirit had been satisfied. Short spams rocked my breath away.

Sliding his cock inside my pussy was difficult, but not much. He had already prepped me with fingerbanging. I sunk my sharp nails into his dark skin, while I threw my hair back. His cock was in my gut. I bounced up and down to the rhythm of the tide. By holding onto my ass and spreading my cheeks, Nick balanced me.

“Fuck,” he said, slapping my ass. “Gimmie that pussy.”

“This pussy is all yours,” I screamed.

When he took me doggy-style, I thought he would rip my insides. His sac slapped at my pussy, as he yanked my hair. I came, before I knew what was happening. It felt so good it hurt. During his last few strokes, he went all the way in and out. He stayed deep while he came, flooding me with his warm semen.

I placed my head on his abs, enjoyed the night breeze filled with nature. It smelled like rain and exotic fruit. I looked up at him, and he was staring at the stars.

“This is great,” he said.

“It is. It was,” I said.

We quieted and let the rolling tide speak. These last few weeks had been very stressful. I had convinced Donna’s label not to shelve her album and I had successfully finished midterm grades. I really was a fixer. Yet I did not know how to fix my own situation. I didn’t know what all this meant for me and Nick. Time would decide. Knowing what could possibly come, I cleared my mind and counted the stars.

 

 

#####

 THE END

THE CHRONICLES OF BLOWJOB BRITTANY, THE FIXER

COPYRIGHT by

JERMAINE REED

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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