"You want this," he says, eyeing the prominent bulge tenting your dress. You just smirk, saying nothing. Your feminine (yes, it's small enough to be called that) dick, after all, has already spoken for you, tenting your dress noticeably. So instead, you simply squeeze the man's hand as you hurry to one of the tavern's back rooms. He's tall, probably a foot higher than your feminine frame, barely past five feet. Ruggedly handsome, too. Someone who works for his living, evidently.

But who he is doesn't matter, really. A few minor details you'll discard, and forget forever. You've been slutting at the local tavern for weeks, now, dragging away this man or that every night. Your parents wouldn't approve. Who would? You spend your midnights wearing dresses and sucking dicks. Dicks like this, you think, as you move your soft hands over his pants, gently grabbing at his bulge. That's what you're here for. Cock.

"And cock I'll get," you mutter under your breath. You giddily open the door to the tavern's back room and pull him through, barely giving him time to shut it behind him. You turn your head, lock eyes with him. "Don't make me wait," you coo. The faintest hint of a smile shows on his face and he walks past you, brushing his hand through your long blonde hair, and lowers himself onto the bed. He smiles a bit more, amused. "As you wish, princess. Or should I call you prince?"

You ignore the comment and lower yourself to your knees, tugging at his pants with one hand while the other eagerly massages his dick-bulge, then the dick itself as it slips out of its restraints. You take it in your right hand, feeling the veiny mass of penis as it idly throbs in your grip. You move your face a few inches away from it, and breathe. The scent of cock is overpowering. Delicious. Your mouth salivates and your dick strains against itself, feeling erect beyond belief. You live for this. You -love- this. Being this close to dick... -actual- dick... it makes you feel like the girl you'll never be. You toy with it, rubbing your fingers along the seven inches of cock at your disposal, and smile faintly as you see a bead of cum form at the head. There couldn't be a more obvious invitation. You lean in and lick his cockhead, lapping his salty pre with your tongue, and look up at him with the best 'fuck-me' eyes you can manage. "Keep going," he says, as he idly runs his hand through your golden hair. "Keep going..."

You content yourself with licking the head, tasting and exploring the dick as you gently stroke it with your hands. This is something to be savored. Enjoyed. You'll give him what he wants, soon. But there's a certain magic to it - the licking and the touching... like running your hands over a lover's body, tasting the curves and the smooth skin and worshipping each and every delicious inch. The pre-seed trickles out of his member as you leak it and carress it, careful to catch each and every droplet his cock might provide for you. You can hear him trying to steady his breath as you move in and kiss him on the head, locking lips against his member, letting him press and throb against your cockpillows. You withdraw for a second, wet your lips with your tongue, snake your left hand into your dress to tease your own, smaller dick.

You're so fucking hard right now. Pre trickles from your cock, which throbs desperately, begging for attention but only getting a few teasing touches. It'd be so easy to give in, blow your load right here and now. But you don't. The insatiable lust makes it all the better. Makes dick seem beyond divine, a deity to be worshipped and served. And you wrap your wet lips around his head, teasing his cumslit with your tongue and receiving more of his liquid lust as a reward. He's thick, hard. Two and a half inches of girth and seven inches long. He pushes gently on your head, and you oblige him, taking another inch or two into your mouth, bathing his cock with your saliva. You look up, giving him your gorgeous, slutty eyes, and it feels like he stares into your soul. "So pretty, with your mouth full of cock," he says, breathing heavy, and lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You'd smile, if you could. His dick batters at the entrance to your throat now, and you push forward, taking one inch, then another, until his ballsack presses against your chin, your gag reflex virtually nonexistant at this point. You hold him there, let him pulse into your throat, feel his thick manhood lie there in your throat, enveloped entirely. It's a familiar fullness, and it makes everything feel -right-. Makes you feel needed. Wanted. Loved.

You look up at him, and he looks at you and you moan, as much as you can, around his dick. Your fingers dance around your member, pre leaking from your own cock like a veritable fountain. You swallow his pre and pull your head back, giving yourself a few seconds to breathe before you take him in again, settling now into a slow up and down motion, rolling your tongue around his thick shaft, drawing low moans from its owner. It pulses, throbs, fully erect, a slab of man-meat sliding in and out of your throat. Gently, slowly, as you glide your lips over his girth. He grips your hair, hard. Not painfully, but hard, and you envigorate your sucking. Up and down, up and down, as your right hand massages his balls, tracing lines on them as your left teases your own member. You continue your rhythmic sucking, mind almost entirely blanked out by lust, all of your remaining willpower being used to prevent the one or two strokes that it would take to blow your load, all over that pretty, cum-stained dress of yours. You hum as pre leaks into your throat, swallowing his pre-seed and massaging his cock in the process. He's all but death-gripping your hair now, his moans low, but audible, and you can tell he's almost at the edge.

It's a minute, tops, before he's past the edge, your oral assault finally overpowering him as he lets out a loud, audible gasp. His dick pulses and you draw back until your lips are wrapped around just his cockhead, moving your right hand upwards to stroke him, coaxing his cum out, sucking and licking the tip, until with one powerful twitch a long line of cum shoots against the back of your throat, then another, his balls emptying into your throat. The pent up ones are the best, you muse, as you swallow down his sperm, the thick milky seed flowing down your throat. Almost as good as the blowjob itself. An acquired taste, maybe, but oh god, what a taste it is. Every shot of cum makes you hornier, makes the divine rightness feel even more intense. This is what you are. A cum slut.  And you won't ever deny it. You suckle and lick, his shots only a waning flow now, and you grip your own hypersensitive dick, giving it a few strokes and letting yourself cum, your relatively few shots splattering against your dress and then leaking onto your knees. You push your head forward once more, impaling yourself on his now softening cock, letting it leak its last trickles of seed directly into your gullet, feeling it soften with every gentle twitch, your stomache pleasantly warm from his hot semen. His hand idly strokes your hair as he savors his afterglow, looking down into your eyes, you meekly looking up at him, and he smiles, warmly. And you feel happy, like you always do. Sucking dick is the only thing that makes you feel alive. Makes you feel like you have purpose. Makes you feel like a real girl. A princess. You love it.

You let his flaccid cock fall out of your mouth, but sit there still, idly licking his saliva-coated member. Giving it small kisses as your lust fades away and your mind clears. It's time to leave once more, you think, sighing happily. Such a shame you can't stay like this forever. Parting is such sweet sorrow. After a minute or two, you get up, letting him eye the wet spot near your knees for a half minute. He looks into your eyes once more, your pretty little eyes. "We... should do this again sometime. Princess."

You don't reply. But maybe, sometime.