Queensburgh

My friends and I were typical of the white school girl from the Queensburgh area of Durban. We were not as pre-occupied with looks as those rich kids from Reservoir Hills and their pretentious Durban North equivalents. We loved to smoke cigarettes and smoke zol, yeah, Durban Poison is a respectable cannabis grade. It is probably not as good as Malawi Gold but will beat most Swazi herb. We used to hang out at Joe Cool’s right on the Indian Ocean beach. Joe Cool’s was dreamy good for me, being used to seeing my fat family and relatives drinking Klipdrift Brandy and Coke at home until they are skunk-drunk. They made it a point to attain, that lousy inebriated status day in day out.
At Joe Cool’s everyone seemed to be savouring their drinks deliberately and spending time trying to be heard by raising the voice a decibel or two to counter the background racket made louder by the competing sound of the sea waves committing suicide on the sands of the shore. Nothing like an empty wallet or pocket, to invoke civilised drinking habits in the face of chaotic, everything else.
I am not sure how prevalent was the voracious appetite my friends and I had for sucking cock. I got hooked on licking and sucking penises when I realised that the feeling of a penis head on my lips, on the inside of my cheek on my smooth tongue or anywhere else in or around my oral cavity, was heavenly. I love it. I love the whole erotic scene around it. I discovered the power my blowjob abilities gave me purely by chance. I asked one Indian larney (rich) schoolboy with both parents, successful professionals and “old money” to top it all up, for ten rand, about one dollar, to buy a drink. The little miser wanted to know what I would give him in return.
“OK, if you blow-job me, I will give you twenty rand” the haggling started.
“For my blow-job you would have to pay me two hundred rand, or you can go to the cocaine whores at Point Road and pay one hundred rand” I upped the stakes.
“Come, let’s go” appears like my two hundred rand price was accepted.
And so we sat at the back of his stupidly huge Hummer H2 and I told him to open his own pants. I asked if he was a typical stink-ass boy, in which case I would insist that he airates his crotch before I get to it. I have a reputation for vomiting after sucking some unsavoury dick. He had a reasonably sized penis and still had some years to grow it although at 19, time was fast running out unless he got his hands on some mystical penis growing practice. The boy being a Hindu, his prick was uncut. I pulled the long foreskin back and spat on his dick head, cleaning off all traces of muck with my shirt. I tenderly licked his dick, keeping my big green eyes fixed on his dark brown eyes. He shut his eyes as I swallowed his dick into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his dick head and he groaned, shooting his curry flavoured sperms into my mouth. I just swallowed all of it as the little Indian convulsed like an epileptic child. He had come in record time, all of 90 seconds! I kept his dick in my mouth until it started going soft, it took surprisingly long for that to happen.
After licking the last traces of his masala flavoured sperm, I pulled his foreskin forward and deposited the dick back in his pants, no fuss, no mess.
He gave me five hundred rand, more money than I could ever dream of owning at the same time.
Then word of my cock-sucking (and mind-blowing) prowess got around. One day, I was hanging out at a zol-smoking haunt called Cool Runnings. Funky reggae sounds, some beer and many spliffs, no cocaine or fucking ecstasy, summarises the scene at Cool Runnings. One guy, my mom’s private doctor asked me to escort him in to the ladies lavatory as men had made a rather strong showing on that night and the men’s toilet was occupied. I stood guard outside the door. After he pissed he turned around and started talking to me before replacing his semi-erect penis in his underwear where it ought to be. He lingered on, just babbling away as if showing me his totem-pole was an accepted accompaniment to whatever mad-fool script he was playing out. I looked at his face and saw a very handsome thirty-something old man, with a penis bulging for attention from inside his pants.
“Come inside and latch the door” he rather commanded.
“Give me some head please doll…don’t worry I won’t tell, but I heard you give the best head in Durban” I was flattered into action.
I took his so-so sized prick in my hand and pumped it a few times rubbing my finger over the glans opening. He already had a few glistening drops of pre-cum oozing. The good doctor was horny! Then straight into my mouth. I gave him the “dick-in-cheek”, rubbing his dick against the inner side of my cheek. He groaned as I rubbed his cock in my mouth. He loved it and I was enjoying it, loving the feeling of a short slim dick in my mouth. Here was a whole physician at the mercy of a teenager, moaning as I gave him joy.
I grabbed his slim butt in both of my hands and made him fuck my open mouth. He humped like there was no tomorrow. I was focussed on pleasuring him and making him come before some urine (and pot) filled bitch started getting impatient and caused a scene. But I was enjoying the whole act, perhaps as much and my little pussy was creaming and frothing as cunt juices poured out, soaking my G-string. Dr Gert was not coming.
I licked my finger and started rubbing his tightly closed bung-hole. At first he squeezed his buttocks together as if to try and prevent violation, but I was having none of that. I stuck my longest finger deep into his shitter and the doctor gasped.
“Yes, my girl, yes, stick it deeper….ooohhh, that is special” he moaned.
I knew he was coming so I pulled the dick out of my mouth and let go off it.
He grabbed his own prick and wanked himself to climax, jerking, as rope after rope of cum splashed on the wall, the floor and the toilet basin. I had my finger in my cunt trying to cum too but it was not to be.
Bang-bang-bang, a loud knock on the door.
“Excuse me….have you fallen asleep shitting in there? I need to piss” said a loud voice outside.
Dr Gert wiped his sperm and flushed the tissues. Then kissed me on my lips whispering;
“Thank you, that was magical..”
That is how my mother started getting free medical care from the good doctor, all expenses; examination, diagnosis and medicines. I got a whole lot of presents and money, over the next year, until Dr Gert got tired of my pussy and blow-jobs…men!
What I know now is that cock-sucking, blow-jobbing, giving head or whatever name you may have for felatio, has been such a rewarding pursuit that I would not be what I am today if I had not used my skills the way I did…
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