She had to pause, for the head of my cock was only centimeters away from her mouth. She opened wide and took it in, pushing her lips down the shaft and wrapping her tongue along the tip. A bolt of pleasure raced up my spine as my manhood hardened. The words were right there on my lips, words that would tell her to cease this debauchery at once. I could push her off, give her a ride home if I was still feeling generous. I’d make sure this would never happen again.
Instead, I groaned and closed my eyes. Angelica really knew how to work those lips of hers. My nerves got to me, and I looked around once more, scanning the parking lot. There was no one around to see this high school girl in my lap with my cock in her mouth. I was glad for that. Still, I could never totally relax. Even as Angelica deep-throated my cock, I thought of the growing schism between father and daughter, of a man absorbed by his faith and devotion to a higher power, and of a girl absorbed by her love of hard cock.
Even when I reached full erection, Angelica still found this miraculous ability to swallow three-fourths of my cock. Drool was running all down the shaft, giving the whole thing a sheen. Then, she’d gag and pull back, and more spit would collect on the thing. I’d never seen a girl so obsessed with having a cock in her mouth. By the look of it, she wasn’t doing it to please me. The very act of having a throbbing member between her lips got her off, as evidenced by the hand touching one of her breasts, which then shot down between her legs. It had been an advantageous decision to not wear any underwear today. I wondered how often she went without them.
“Oh that’s good,” she said, pulling back and running her tongue along the underside. The hand between her legs stayed in place. “I love a nice, hard cock like yours, doc. When was the last time you came?”
I found my voice. “None of your business.”
“A while, then. Just let me know when.”
With drool-covered lips and an appetite that wouldn’t quit, Angelica positioned herself next to me and opened her legs up. The blue and gold skirt was hiked up enough that her shaved pussy was clear as day. I watched as she rubbed herself with one hand, focusing on her clit and then going lower to push a finger into her entrance. She was sopping wet down there. The other hand stayed attached to my cock. It was all automatic for her, twisting her fingers up and down the slippery shaft, squeezing the tip. Again I wondered just how many cocks Angelica had seen. Well, a part of me did. The other part of me was desperately trying to figure out a way I could still get out of this without finishing.
My climax came, and I forgot to mention anything to Angelica. Yet, with some magical sixth sense, she suddenly knew I was on the verge of orgasm. Everything in my loins tightened, a gush of warm seed rushed up through the length of my cock, and her lips enclosed around the tip right as it all shot into the back of her mouth. Whether it was her sensual hands or talented lips—or probably a combination of both—she had drained me. She swallowed several hot spurts and then licked me clean.
“Oh fuck,” she panted, the fingers down below slowing, and then stopping. “I needed some creamy dessert. Thanks doc. It tasted good on the way down, if you want to know.” She wrapped her arms around me and hovered close enough that I could smell my cum on her face. “You want to add me to your phone? Maybe we can fuck next time. You like anal? Everyone says my ass is gonna get stretched out with how many guys pound me back there, but it hasn’t happened yet.” She combed my hair with her fingers. “I’m still tight in both holes.”
“You ought to go home,” I advised.
She rolled off me. “Can’t. Bill wants head later, and one of my girlfriends is curious about lesbian sex. My evening is booked. But, if you’re really that concerned about me, I’ll be home before midnight. Tell my father not to worry. I can take care of myself.”
After she hopped out of the car, I finally took a deep breath. The first order of business was to stuff my cock back into my pants, and that wasn’t hard to do given its softening state. I shook my head, turned the key in the ignition, and wondered how in the hell I was going to purge this sequence of events from my memory. Short answer: I wasn’t. Angelica was dirty, unabashedly vulgar, and flat-out unforgettable. I felt sorry for Preacher Tom. His daughter had grown up to be a total stranger in her own family, and there was no fixing that.
Or was there? I remembered that unknown gene again. The likelihood that it was related to Angelica’s promiscuity was outrageously low. Yet, I had never seen that on a blood report before. Likewise, I had never met anyone like Angelica.
I grabbed my phone and called Susan. “Hey, how many blood donations do we have on-site?”
She wasn’t expecting a call. “Jack? Blood donations?”
“Yeah, how many do we keep in the clinic?”
“Oh, I’d say there’s probably one or two hundred in there now.”
“Will the lab accept that many samples at once? You know, say I wanted to get them all tested.”
“That many?” She laughed. “It’ll take a week or two. Why?”
I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I didn’t outright lie. I said it was for a research project. What I really wanted to know was if other people had that same unknown gene. If the tests were performed in the same lab and with the same computer, I could get an idea of what percentage of the population was like Angelica, and if that unknown gene was related to her promiscuity.
Yeah, it was a long shot. The Texas Rangers had a better chance of winning the World Series than me determining if Angelica had a slut gene. But it was a start.
Two weeks later, I had an answer—or at least an arrow leading me deeper into this dark, twisting maze. There were exactly one-hundred and forty-three samples of blood sent off to the lab, and I received one-hundred and forty-three summaries back. Each one was just like Angelica’s report, but I was only interested in the bottom of the second pages. My heart skipped a beat when I came across a Tasha from the town over who also had an unknown gene. There were others too, and not just girls, which surprised me.
I opened a new document on my laptop and wrote them all down. All together, there were seven individuals who had the same three words at the bottom of the second page: UNKNOWN GENE FOUND. The list included the previously-mentioned Tasha, a Michael who lived a few blocks away from the clinic, a Beth and Billy—who were presumably brother and sister—a Lucy, a Karen, and one other that made my eyes widen.
KOVAL, JACK S.
Yeah, that’s right. I gave blood once a year, and the lab had returned a report just like everyone else. I, Jack Koval, had the same gene in my blood, that exact gene that could be responsible for Angelica’s not-so-orthodox hobbies. No, that’s silly. There was no proof that it was the same unknown gene in Angelica’s blood. And, I was still operating on this huge assumption that the gene was responsible for her promiscuity. I was letting myself jump—or leap—to conclusions here. I needed more proof. These seven people could be just like Angelica, or nothing like her at all. I mean, I didn’t feel like a slut. But what was a slut, exactly? Based on what I had seen in Angelica, I went back to the laptop and typed up some notes, withholding any gender pronouns.
THE QUALITIES OF A SLUT:
1). AN ELEVATED LIBIDO/INSATIABLE SEX DRIVE.
2). A DESIRE TO SHOW OFF ONE’S BODY TO POTENTIAL PARTNERS/REVEALING CLOTHING.
3). A SHAMELESS ADDICTION TO ACHIEVING SEXUAL PLEASURE/PRIORITIZING IT ABOVE ALL ELSE.
Those three points all described Angelica perfectly. Obviously, none of them described me. As a man, I never had a desire to show off my body to ladies, and I didn’t fit into the other two categories either. So, if it was the same gene in my body, then why was I not a slut—or the male equivalent of one? It was a pointless conundrum; I wasn’t a slut because I wasn’t a girl. By definition, only girls could be classified as sluts. But it wasn’t just that. I was looking for an answer that wasn’t there. I had promised Preacher Tom for an answer and a solution to this unique problem, but I wasn’t going to find one. In those two weeks since sending off
the blood samples, I had tried to forget Angelica. Preacher Tom hadn’t spoken to me since, either. There was no reason to continue into this maze of endless twists and turns. It was time I stopped, turned around, and went back to the exit.
Sorry Tom. Your daughter’s just a slut. There’s nothing I can do.
Thinking about Angelica again—and the quick blowjob in the front seat of my sedan—had gotten a rise out of my manhood. That was the first time someone had given me oral inside a car, or sex of any kind for that matter. Though I had tried to forget those fifteen minutes, those soft, wet lips were still so vivid in my head, wrapping around my cock, coaxing the cum to come shooting from within. My pants were beginning to feel tight in the front.
“Jack, your three o’clock is here.”
I nearly jumped out of my seat. Susan had cracked the door open to notify me of my latest appointment.
“Three o’clock? I didn’t have anyone for three.”
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you.” Her head poked through. “A young lady called in an hour ago. She wanted to see you.”
You know when it feels like there’s something large lodged in your throat, and you can’t swallow it down no matter how hard you try? I had that right now, because I knew who it was. I straightened in my chair, closed the document still open on my computer screen—the one detailing the qualities of what makes a slut a slut—and scooted closer to the desk so that the tent in my pants wouldn’t be visible.
A moment later, Angelica was closing and locking the door behind her.
“Angelica? Shouldn’t you be in school?” The final bell always rang at 3:15 PM.
“Told them I had a sore throat,” she explained, tossing her backpack into a chair. “Coughed a bit. They still don’t know that you can shake a thermometer to make the temperature go up. The nurse said I should see a doctor just in case, so here I am. Maybe you can write me one of those fancy doctor’s notes so I can skip a whole week.” She sauntered over to my desk. “If you do, I’ll let you put it in my butt.”
Angelica’s wardrobe seemed to consist of clothing ranging from skimpy to borderline insufficient. Today she was wearing a black crop top that showed her navel—and the tiny pink stud attached to her belly button. Gone was the mini skirt, replaced with a pair of skintight denim shorts held up with suspenders over her shoulders.
A slut shows off her body.
“Not saying much today?” She took one of the ballpoint pens off my desk and sucked on the end of it suggestively. “Well, I got to fuck Bill during gym class. Remember him? We just skipped off and did it in the men’s bathroom. Almost got one of his friends to join in for a twofer, but that’d be pushing my luck.” Her lips tightened around the pen as it slid into her mouth. She never took her eyes off me. “It was real good. Like, he had enough cum that I just skipped lunch. Filled my belly right up.”
A slut is shameless about her actions.
“But one fuck in a day isn’t enough to satisfy me. Not usually, unless it’s really fucking good. So doc, I came to see what was up with you. You been thinking about me? I wasn’t joking when I said I’d let you fuck me.” Angelica yanked the neckline of her top down, exposing her cleavage. She must’ve been wearing some sort of push-up bra, for her breasts seemed larger than before. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them.
A slut is always horny.
“Angelica, we can’t do this,” I finally admitted. “It’s unprofessional for me. It’s not healthy for you.”
“Healthy?” She laughed. “Come on, you’re a doctor! You must know the benefits of swallowing cum. I looked it up online. Like, it’s good in vitamins, and it’s good for your skin too. You can say whatever you want, but sucking cock is healthy for a girl. And it tastes good. I bet it has more nutrients in it than that shit they make for school lunches. More girls should drink cum like me.”
I was beginning to see her how Preacher Tom had seen her. There was no changing Angelica, no convincing her that what she was doing with her life was intolerable by the majority of society. Yet, it wasn’t that complicated from her point of view. To her, everything was black or white. If she was aroused, then she had sex. It didn’t seem to matter much who she was with. It was a very primal way of thinking.
By now, Angelica had rounded the corner of my desk and was sitting on the edge, right in front of my laptop. She spread her legs and began rubbing the center of her crotch, two fingers firmly along the middle, up and down. With her other hand, she grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed. The nipple was already beginning to show through the fabric, and now it only became more prominent, large enough to get her fingers around it. A simple twist resulted in a soft moan.
My erection was obvious.
“I’ve got an eighteen-year-old pussy waiting down here,” she said. “Don’t you want to see how wet it is? My panties are soaked.” She bit her lip. “Usually I have to change them halfway through the day because they get too wet, but sometimes I just keep them on. I never stop leaking down there.”
A sense of betrayal washed over me. I cursed my own body for becoming aroused, and myself for letting her do this. I didn’t say a word as she moved to my lap and gyrated her ass against my crotch. She thrust up against me, pressing her boobs into my chest before kissing me hard. Angelica the slut. There was a fire in her that no other girls had, an intense desire for sex, a fully evolved flame that burned hotter than anyone I had ever seen. She was young and gorgeous, and knew exactly how men saw her. And she loved it.
She wasted no time in slipping the suspenders off her shoulders and removing her top. She flung the bra away shortly after. Now completely topless, Angelica pressed her breasts into my face. They were both amazingly soft and perky, as youthful as the rest of her. I kissed her chest gently, giving equal amounts of attention to both the left and right one. She loved having her nipples licked, and enjoyed it when I closed my lips around one and sucked. The pink nub sprang to life inside my mouth and instantly hardened.
“Yeah, that’s nice,” she cooed. “Most guys just want to fuck me, but you’re gentle. I like gentle too.”
Forgive me Preacher Tom, I thought. I couldn’t even begin to imagine meeting him face-to-face again. Just picturing him made my cheeks burn. I hoped he didn’t have special mind-reading powers because he was a preacher. If so, I was damned to an eternity in hell.
Angelica rubbed her ass over my crotch until I thought my cock was going to tear right through the fabric. That would’ve been a real catastrophe—good slacks weren’t inexpensive! After both of her nipples were good and erect, she crawled off me and unzipped my pants. My cock jumped out, hard and throbbing before she ever got her hands on it. I combed her blonde hair with my fingers as she knelt down and took my hardness into her mouth. The insides of her cheeks were so soft, and her tongue more so. I tensed up repeatedly, feeling surge after surge of pleasure in my loins. Those large green eyes of hers just stared up at me, never blinking. She took it fully into her mouth, while her slender fingers played with my testicles. Squeezing my scrotum and sucking on the tip of my cock really was the best thing ever.
I don’t know why, but right then, while those pretty little bangs fell into her eyes and her mouth made soft sucking sounds as drool ran down the length of my cock, I wondered what it would be like to be Angelica. Of course, there was a great divide between us. We had nothing in common, least of all our gender. While I was always stuck in my office doing paperwork and diagnosing erectile dysfunction to men with flaccid dicks, she was busy getting fucked whenever an opportunity presented itself. It must’ve been a thrill, to wear those skimpy clothes, to flaunt her body, to grab a boy by his shirt collar and yank him into the nearest bathroom. For her, no two days were the same.
I wasn’t a girl and I certainly wasn’t attracted to men, but I almost envied it.
Angelica didn’t spend as much time with my cock in her mouth as she had in the car. She only sucked me off until I was as hard as possible. Then, she stood up straight and turn
ed around before lowering her shorts. The crack of her beautiful ass rubbed against the underside of my cock as she pulled them off. I was about ready to explode.
“Okay doc. My pussy’s revved and ready to go. Wanna give it a test drive?”
Her mound glistened with wetness, and it was just as hairless as two weeks ago. Now facing me again, she crawled onto my lap until her slit was hovering just inches above the head of my cock. The chair groaned with both of our weights as she wrapped her arms around me. Another few seconds and I’d be inside that wet heaven between her legs.
She lowered herself down, and I waited … and waited.
Angelica spoke up. “Doc—”
“Just call me Jack.”
“Jack, you’ve … uh … got a case of the baby-dick going on.”
What? I glanced down. Angelica was right; my dick was tiny! That didn’t make any sense. Just seconds ago I had been sporting a good six-and-a-half inches—seven on a good day. I was ready to go, ready for her to sit herself on it and fuck away. Now it was small again, but it wasn’t soft. Oh I still had a raging erection all right, but it was only two inches long.
“That’s some magic trick you can pull off. Now make it grow again,” Angelica said.
I couldn’t. I didn’t know why it had shrunk in the first place, but no muscle made it bigger again. Believe me, I wanted it to be bigger. Angelica gave it a few tugs—between her thumb and forefinger, like she was playing with a nipple—and it got smaller again.
“Whoa,” she muttered, still stroking it.
“Angelica, wait—”
Then, it was gone. My cock just pulled back and vanished out of existence. There wasn’t even a hole left, or even a tiny mound protruding from my crotch. Even my balls had disappeared.
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