Playing Rival Queens
“Mmm.”
“Richard. Dick. Are you even listening to me?“
I sigh as a wonderful, bouncy, large pair of tits walks by the table, allowing me into their radius for just a moment. And then I blink innocently, focusing my eyes back on my friend Patricia’s. “Sorry, what were you saying? Chess finals?”
“Chess practice. I was inviting you to come watch as a guest. Look, are you even interested in what’s going on with me, or is it just... you know, the Miss Surplus Rack of the moment that’s really got your attention?” Patricia straightens up in her seat as she talks about attention. I can’t help but notice her posture thrusts her modest-looking chest out a bit. Not that the thick fabric of her black cotton blouse actually shows anything off.
I snort. “I’ve got plenty of attention for you, toots.” At her glare from ‘toots,’ I raise my finger and shake it. “Hey, you want me to flirt at you in a club, this is what my flirting is like. I like calling potential partners sweetie, and sugar, and honey, and even sweetcheeks. You don’t like that, then it’s a question of whether you just like me for my dick the way most girls do.”
She looks down her nose at me. I’m glad the table’s hiding my hard-on. I love her condescension, especially because I’m imagining her with my cum smeared into her hair, running down her face, ruining her makeup.
Not that she likes to admit how much makeup that she wears, of course. I happen to have an eye for how much time and effort goes into certain makeup jobs. Maybe because I have a love of smearing said makeup jobs all over my partners’ faces with my dick. It’s the simple pleasures that get me off sometimes, what can I say?
“Most girls just like you for your dick, huh?” She rolls her eyes when she mentions my dick.
I imagine her eyes rolling up in her head for a different reason having to do with my dick. I crack a grin. “Wanna check it out? See what everyone’s been making a fuss over?” My eyes skate left again. Tits at six o’clock. Nine o’clock. Sixty-nine o’clock. Damn, this club can be a fatal distraction. Who invited all these girls with these wonderful racks? And can any of them let Patricia in on their secret tit-growing diet? No wonder she’s getting a little ornery from jealousy. Hot.
“Make a fuss over some other girl’s breasts, more like. Dick, you’re completely distracted by any sizable rack that walks by!” She scowls at my confusion. “You can’t just tease me with your cock and then keep staring away from me.”
I crook an eyebrow up and close ground. “Teasing you? So you want my cock?” I slide my hand around her wrist, pulling her forward just slightly, giving her just a little tilt off balance to start rocking her entire world from the inside.
Patricia sputters. “No, that’s not—that’s not what I said!” She lurches a bit from disorientation, but doesn’t pull her hand away.
“Oh, okay—you want me keeping my eyes on your tits?” I prop my other arm on the table, leaning closer, eyes raking over Patricia’s chest. Her shirt’s neckline isn’t doing me any favors, but I like staring, because I like how women usually react to being ogled.
Patricia’s reaction is no exception. She blushes a deep pink, tinged with violet tones, complementing her deep black hair nicely. Her hand rests lightly over her chest, fingers spread out, as if her blouse doesn’t button all the way up to her neck and hide any evidence of cleavage. “No, I don’t want you staring at my ti—at my chest. Dick I—”
“Oh okay. You want to look at my dick, then.” I hook up an eyebrow. “I don’t mind if you slip under the table and take a—”
I think she wants to slap me, but her better angels take over and Patricia’s cocked-back hand drifts back down. “I’m not going under the table.”
“You can sit in my lap, then. Or is this about me looking at your tits again? I can try looking at them more, but you need to unbutton that stuffy shirt a bit, let ’em breathe.” At her eyes widening, I raise a hand. “Hey, hey, I get it. You want me to unbutton your shirt myself.”
“No!”
“You’ll do it for me, then?”
“I... no, Dick, I—”
“It’s okay, Patty. I’ll handle it. I know you’re too busy thinking about my dick to do it yourself.” I reach forward with the hand that doesn’t have her wrist in its grasp, tugging the button loose that sits nestled in Patty’s cleavage, opening up her shirt three buttons down. She tries to bat my hand away, and I tsk. “Come on, you know I’ll be better at unbuttoning. Faster at it.” I flick my finger upwards, and then the second button’s unfastened. “Sorry my dick’s on your mind so much lately. I promise I’ll let you see it soon. Here, this will help you wait.”
I take Patty’s hand, place it on my crotch, and put my hand over it, squeezing gently, guiding her hand to squeeze. After a few moments and a few more squeezes, her hand starts to move of its own volition, gently probing the contours of my dick through the fabric of my pants.
“Oh God, I—I don’t—”
I tighten my hand and guide her to squeeze my dick in a steady rhythm. “You do. All the time. Think about my dick. All the time. And now you can hold on to it exactly how you want to.”
Her grip gets firm, fingers gently stroking along the length of my shaft through my trousers. Her hand keeps the rhythm I taught it as she begins to stroke with more confidence.
A hand behind her head, and she’s sliding to her knees, into the quiet refuge underneath the club’s table. I reach down and unfasten the top button on her shirt, which is what it takes to get her to finally take it off herself. She doesn’t notice it, but when the blouse hits the floor, I nudge it into the shadows away from the table, where it’s quickly lost. I like her much better without it, and half the girls in this club may as well be in their bras anyway.
Her black lace bra’s revealing cut shows me much more of what I’m usually looking for in a girl. She’s not absolutely stacked, but she’s got two nice handfuls there waiting patiently for me to be interested in them. But right now, I’m looking for something else from Patty. I keep my hand behind her head, guiding her lips to the destination. “I know how much you like my cock, Patty... but you see, the thing is, those girls with the huge titties... you may think they’re dumb bimbos, but they’re extremely intelligent when it comes to sex. And, well... I didn’t think you’d be interested in what those girls had to offer to me. But if you’re... willing...” My fingers spread through her hair, twining, gripping more strongly. “...I’ll allow you to prove you’re better than those dumb bimbo girls.“
“Really?” Patty’s voice is breathy and soft, a touch of confusion lending an almost ditzy air to her voice. I love it. “How can I do that?”
I pull her face closer to my crotch, grip strong to keep her head fixed in place, and then I bump my crotch up against her nose and lips, gently, with a rhythm that teaches her early what I’ll want her doing. “You’re gonna prove you’re smarter than those dumb horny bimbos.” I slide my crotch against her cheek, then unzip my pants with my other hand, easing out my cock slowly as I keep control of her head.
She leaves a kiss against the crotch of my pants while waiting for my cock. Her hips are writhing of their own volition. She’s starting to pant. Good little cocksucker.
I keep my hold tight. Patty gets horny from a nice firm dom’s grip, it looks like. I tug her head from side to side, rubbing her face against my freed dick and balls.
Patty moans, horny as hell. She gives a little lick to my penis. “That’s right, girl. You’re a smart girl, aren’t you? Who’s the smartest little cocksucker around?”
As the girl’s head bobs up and down on top of my shaft, I guide Patty to give me exactly the blowjob I want, making sure to give her lots of verbal instruction. She’s a smart girl, after all. A fast learner. She appreciates all the education I can give her. And I give her a lot—working my shaft into her throat, in and out, teaching her to take more and more of it.
“Such a good cocksucker,” I say. “So much better than a bimbo at blowing who you’re told to blow. So much smarter than a dumb bimbo at sucking on demand. So clever at solving the problem of how to get cum out of my dick. You’re not some horny, stupid slut.” I ram the tip down her throat, spurting. “You’re my cocksucking genius. And no matter how many girls’ tits I stare at because they’re bigger than yours—”
I lick my lips, ogling one of the girls that Patty has been so jealous of. She’s been sitting at the table right across from ours, and her chest is massive, stretching the fabric of her fishnet blouse tight and thin, cleavage nice and deep. I throw her a wink as I spurt one more time down Patty’s throat. I think Patty’s face might look real good wedged underneath those huge tits, worshipping and kissing the superior rack that she’s so jealous of.
“—I’ll always be thinking of what a smart cocksucker you are while I watch those nice, huge racks bounce around as long and often as I want.” I pat Patricia on the head as she licks at my dick, cleaning it up like a good girl. She’s really learning. Last week, she’d been hesitant to even swallow my sperm. Something about being a vegan. Watching her lick a bead of pearly white off of her lower lip, I don’t think the ‘vegan’ thing will last too much longer. She’s learning to swallow my meat and love it.
Patty sighs with contentment underneath the table, my hand resting on top of her head. Cheek nudged up against my sac, she lets out a moan that makes my dick tingle in all sorts of the best ways. It’s always wonderful to hear a sub learn their place, but it’s sublime to feel it happen.
Meanwhile, I keep flirting with my well-endowed friend at the table right down from us. Patty didn’t know it, but I’d been stringing the girl along for awhile now, insisting that I was more into a girl who could suck cock than a girl with a huge rack. The jealous glare smoldering in the girl’s eyes is all I need to see to be sure of how warm these girls are going to be keeping my dick in the days to come.
What can I say? I’ve already learned something about Chess that Patricia’s little club will never teach her:
When two Queens fight over you, just stick your dick in between them.