Julia’s Booty: Part 2

by Feynman15, in 4 parts, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Julie went directly back to sucking my cock head directly into her mouth. I threw my head back and groaned. And then without warning my eyes widened and my mouth fell open in shock as she pushed her head down and my cock slid all the way into her mouth into the back of her throat. It was like a suction of tight slippery warmth all the way down the base of my shaft. I was giving audible “uh”s of pleasure as Julia stayed locked onto my cock stuffed all the way into her throat, slightly bobbing up and down. She slid it out of her mouth and gasped with strings of saliva dangling between her and me.

“Oh my god,” she said. “I can totally do it!”

“Holy shit that was insane,” I said. “That was insane.”

She gathered the strings of dangling saliva with my cock like it was cotton candy, then rubbed that extra slippery spit all over my boner. “Hold on,” she said. And she swallowed my cock in one fluid motion and had her lips pressed against my pubic mound. I grabbed her ass cheeks and squeezed my pleasure into her flesh, and I couldn’t help my legs from involuntarily thrusting just a bit as she was fully engulfing my cock down her throat. She pulled out again with more saliva strings and said, “Yeah, do it.”

“Do what?” I asked.

She moaned and said, “Don’t make me say it! I’m shy, dude.”

“Please,” I said.

She looked at me in the mirror and said, “Fuck my throat.”

I got excited and said, “Oh, fuck yeah,” as I positioned myself just right.

“You can fuck it like it’s a cunt,” she said. Another moment to save for life.

I leaned a little bit to the left of her legs so I could watch my erect cock up and into her mouth, into her throat all the way. I thrusted into her, my balls flapping all the while. She was taking my cock really easily, and let out cute glug noises each time I got all the way in. I inhaled a big breath and started thrusting rapidly into her throat embrace. Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug.

“Ugh,” spilled out of me as I stopped the thrusts and pulled out of her mouth for a moment. I had a tingling and needed to hold my cock a moment, just in case I was about to cum. She opened again and I went back in. Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug-glug-glug.

I caught my breath. “Wanna know something sexy?” I asked.

Julia wiped a tear and asked, “What?”

“Think about yesterday when you told me you liked me,” I said. “And now look at what we’re doing together.” I lifted my cock back into her throat and pounded away.

She caught her breath. “You’re so bad,” she said. Glug lug lug lug.

I pulled out of her mouth and slid away from her, but kept her all fours doggy style. “And just to be clear, I really, really, really like you too,” I said. I got on my knees and buried my face in her from behind, suctioning between her cunt and ass. She yelled out a collection of “Oh my god”s as I ate her up fully. 

She turned around and we embraced in deep kisses that swirled our personal flavors back and forth. She got on her back and spread her legs wide, her hand now in between, and she said, “Cum with me.” She started fingering. I started stroking.

We were staring at each other intently and our heads were shaking while doing so because our hands were so busy below. I was biting my lip and staring into her gorgeous green eyes and the inevitable was at my doorstep. And as if on cue she started having short breaths of “Oh” that interrupted each of themselves, and her hand was rubbing furiously. Julia opened her green laser beams fully and I saw the glory and she melted into orgasm as those eyelids lowered their curtains. I was still jerking off hard but was ready to pop off any moment.

“Where; should; I; .”

“ in my mouth,” she said.

“Oh god.”

And Julia got up and I grabbed her head and guided the tip of my cock onto her resting tongue. And I pounded the base of my cock hard and a tingling within arose and the heat increased and I could feel my cum coursing through. I told her I was cumming and her mouth went bleh in anticipation and I spasmed jets of white liquid over and over and over and over at least 6 shots directly into her mouth as she moaned each time a squirt of cum went in.

She closed her lips onto my head and sucked in the last drops as I spasmed with that feeling you get when it’s too much and you can barely take it. Julia took it all in her mouth and swallowed while looking at me. Then she coughed a bit and told me it was salty. Oddly enough that moment of the sexual fantasy breaking into a harsher reality was an even further turn on for me. We both stood up and kissed.

And then in the time to follow we talked casually and allowed the conversation to turn into silences. But unlike before where they were a bit awkward, these moments were now relaxed and fun, and we reflected in silence on what just happened and would chuckle or say something like “wow” every now and then. When we started putting things back to the way they were, I grabbed our underwear from the bed.

“Can I keep these?” I asked, holding her soiled panties. The words escaped my mouth before my brain could catch up to stop them.

“Uh, why?” she asked.

I put them up to my face and inhaled her dirty musk. “Souvenir, I guess. Hold me over until next time.”

She giggled. “You gonna sniff those and jerk off to me?”

“Please?”

“Ok,” she said. “But what do I get?”

I started jerking myself without putting a thought to it. And then I had the thought that I was acting so impulsively in the presence of this girl. And that thought, the thought that she brought it out of me, was making the whole situation even hotter, and my dick got harder in the middle of it all.

“How about a little snack for the road?” I said.

Julia got on her knees and played an innocent face while sticking her tongue out. She nodded her head in approval.

“Feed me,” she said. Bleh.

My cock wasn’t even fully hard at that point, but I had a lingering horniness that wasn’t going to stop me. I slammed my hand hard onto my cock, and pretty much willed myself into a state of ecstasy as I felt the tingling again and I shot a couple more jets of hot semen directly into her mouth. “There you go.”

She smacked her lips as she finished me off. “It’s so hot that I got that out of you.” She got up and started putting her clothes back on.

“You make me want to do everything I can,” I said.

“Like lick my ass?” she said. She gave me a coy smile.

“That. And more,” I said.

She smiled. “I believe it.” She stood and did a little shimmy in place.

I felt great and was in such a light mood, so I then jokingly said, “So. Same time next week?”

And as she finished dressing herself she turned around and said, “Yes” in the most serious way possible. I looked at her and stared into her with lust, and my cock responded in that moment. She saw and returned the look of lust right back at me. It was intense. And I was hard, somehow. She crinkled her forehead a bit and said, “Aw. Did I just say the magic words?”

I nodded.

“Umm. You have some more cum for me?”

She crawled quickly over to me and I ripped my jeans and boxers off in a fury, and she opened her mouth and I shoved my cock into it. And the blood rushed to my cock in no time, and I started throat fucking her.

There’s nothing quite like the exhaustion that comes with moving furniture. But if you have the right equipment and some good friends, you won’t be so gassed after moving a refrigerator up two steps. That was the situation I was in Wednesday afternoon, as my friends helped me move into my new place, my own house in a quiet neighborhood not too far from where I worked. We were done in a couple hours. There was a sense of accomplishment as we hung out afterwards hydrating and intoxicating ourselves. It was really nice to have their support, and nice to already feel at home with all of them around. But even with great friends, I always reach a point where it catches up to me and I’m exhausted from the interaction and I need to recharge my battery. Alone. That’s just the way that works best for me. 

After they left I sat on my backyard porch swing and cracked a beer. The blue sky dimmed as the sun set. The crickets serenaded the impending night. I stared at the brown picket directly ahead. Hopes and possibilities jumbled around in my head, thoughts of meeting neighbors and enjoying more independence and turning my house into a leveled-up sanctuary for comfort. But another feeling, in my gut, was one of nervousness, of anxiety over what’s to come, challenges with insurmountable odds and ambiguities and a player to be named later. It was time to shut it all off. Time to fully drain. I left the beer to the mosquitoes and shut the screen door behind me. There was a labyrinth of boxes that I worked through to the makeshift bedroom. I stumbled onto the bed and worked my boxers onto the floor.

Lucky guy, I was, to be able to access the memories and mementos of my sexual experiences. I reached into an unpacked bin and pulled out the pair of Julia’s soiled panties. My inhale was deep. Her scent was robust, cunt and ass and pheromones and a lingering scent that was both dirty and sweet. The smells triggered the memories instantaneously, where my cock twitched to the phantom feelings of Julia’s throat jerking it warm and wet.

Glug glug glug glug,
I came quickly and easily but felt frustrated afterwards. I hadn’t heard from her in 3 weeks. At the time of our hookup I told myself to expect nothing and be cool with it. I was truly fortunate, then, to play with her the way we did. Time is a revealer of deeper truths, however, and the truth was that I missed her. But what could I do? We had agreed a few weeks before that we couldn’t text or call each other, just to be safe. A part of me wanted to break this rule, but the fact she hadn’t, made me think texting would only make things worse. Another part of me was severely concerned that I had done something wrong. It was really difficult to shake that feeling.

The next day I encountered two other truths of life. The first is that life’s worries and concerns are very rarely as bad as we imagine them to be. Don’t get me wrong, life can be very difficult, and certainly easier for some than others. But our worries are often amplified by our imaginations when we have too much time and no one around. I realized this, yet again, when I opened my mail box and found a letter from Julia. It felt nice to know this was the first mail my new home received. But the other truth that I encountered is that you rarely get exactly what you want. I recognized this, as the personal letter I was expecting from Julia (; which in retrospect made no sense because who her age writes letters…) turned out to be an invitation from her family for her graduation ceremony. The fonts were swirly and there was gold glitter everywhere.

Some communication was better than none, I figured. But then I also thought, what if this had no input from Julia herself? She wrote her name on the card, but the fact hers was in dark red ink while theirs was in black told me she just signed it after the fact. Her family was just being nice, as they usually were with these types of things. Same reason I’d get an Amazon gift card from them come holidays. 

The more I thought about it, the more I reasoned her distance was a best-case scenario. Because, I mean, what if she ended up talking to them? What if she gained some new perspective and felt like I had taken advantage of her? What if, therefore, this was all a really elaborate setup? Was there a van outside my house listening in on me? Is there a graduation ceremony? Do kids graduate? What does that word even mean? And is her name even Julia?

Too much time. No one around. Too much time. No one around.

With too much time, at least, your mind can send you in the other direction. So as that moment passed, and the following days unfolded, I settled on the more stable viewpoint that I was worrying too much and things would be fine. There were no suspicious vehicles outside. Graduations were a thing. And Julia, who actually went by that name, was aware of the fact I was moving. Maybe she figured I’d be busy. She was busy too, of course. 

And so truthfully, when graduation Saturday came around everything felt okay. I ate some breakfast and took a shower and dressed up nicely. I even felt pride as I got ready, thinking about what I did to help her get to this point. It felt exciting to gather myself, dressed to the nines, and participate in the celebration. It was a welcoming feeling to slow-roll into the parking lot and saunter towards the gym. The school was really clean and there were balloons tied to everything. There was the sound of high heels echoing down hallways. Fresh baked cookies on trays, carried by a caravan of staff, to an undisclosed location.

Curiosity got the best of me and I followed the last in the cookie caravan down a hallway and around a corner when I bumped into a paunchy man in his 50s with curly black and gray hair. He wore 10 year old Merrell sneakers and had a vinyl record under his arm.

“Well how about that,” the man said. “Small world.”

“Jim!” I said. “So what’s the deal, I move away and now I can’t have a cookie?”

“Wait like the rest of ‘em you little shit,” he said. He reached out and gave me a half hug, careful with the vinyl record. I asked him what he was packing.

“I shit you not, this was a gift from some of the kids,” he said. “These kids, they can’t tell you a thing about music, but they can google, find discogs, find the exact version of a record down to the matrix. It’s impressive and it isn’t at the same time, you know?”

“It’s impressive Jim. You’re just old. You need a cookie or something. Get me one while you’re at it.”

“You’ll be too someday and I’ll haunt your ass,” he said. He handed me the record.

“Songs For My Father? I’m surprised you don’t have this one already.”

“Not this. It’s an original blue note. Rudy Van Gelder etching. It’s impressive, I must admit.”

He showed me its lack of imperfections with the enthusiasm of Christmas morning. “You know what I’ll be doing tonight,” he said.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Amaretto on the rocks?”

He laughed in an ostentatious sort of way. “A Van Gelder original deserves scotch. Neat.”

“Neat,” I said.

Cookie-less, I found my way to the gym and took one of the few remaining seats. The family I sat next to were warm. Their daughter played tennis with Julia and the father knew a lot about the French Open. The ceremonies were pleasant and everyone was safe. It all seemed so easy up to that point. At the end, the principal talked into the microphone and there was feedback noise that got the students too hyped. She eventually told us to head outside.

The gigantic field beyond the gym was known as the quad. The green felt never-ending. There were folding tables with gold and white striped sheets, and the drink bowls had ladles. The rumor was that the cookies were soon to arrive. Families were scattered in all directions. It was a very pleasant sight but I had a lot of trouble feeling comfortable as the inevitable dragged me down. But I reasoned that if there was an issue it would have happened already. Another student’s little brother found me and asked me to show him my tattoo and I did and he was funny. 

With less reluctance and more relaxation, I searched the sea of tall, long-haired girls with caps until I sighted my siren, posing for her dad who tried his best Scorsese impression with a Galaxy S series. When I arrived we all exchanged hugs and Julia felt warm and it felt okay. I scrutinized her face for anything, while keeping my cool, and she was very hard to read. We kept it light and Julia played with her hair in the maroon bow.

There was no sign of the worst-case scenario. It seemed like most of my concerns were self-inflicted, so as I realized this I was able to loosen up and enjoy their company. The conversation was light and flowing. I suppose one could say I was betraying their trust, but I was sincere and earnest with my job, and my experience with Julia was coming from a place of similar sincerity and mutual communication. At least that’s what I had convinced myself of.

And in that moment the thought was out-of-reach, floating far beyond the expanse of the grass. The day was bright and there were napkins loose in the light breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted another one of my students. I was beginning to feel that I should go, or that I was close to staying past my welcome, and I told them I should go say hi to some others. Julia’s mom offered tea if I were to come by in the summer and I was amicable. Julia took a break from playing with her hair bow and handed me a present.

“I, I mean we,” she said, “wanted to give this to you.”

“It’s nothing,” said Julia’s mom. “Really, could we perhaps give you something more? Do you like Apple or Samsung?”

“Mama I took care of it,” said Julia. “Remember?”

“Oh yes, yes,” said her mom. “Open it!”

It was a shadow box, it seemed, like the type you’d find in a Michael’s. The box was black and about the size of a football and heavier than you’d expect. And floating in the center, behind a pane of glass, was a miniature decoration, a sort of education-themed mashup of notebooks and binder paper, pens and pencils, a ruler, all with a swirling red ribbon throughout.

“This is so nice,” I said. “What a sweet gift. Thank you.”

Julia said, “You can take out the back and there’s a gift card there too. But it’s kinda annoying to, like, pop it back in. Hope you like puzzles.”

“Why’d you put it there?” asked her dad.

“So it’s all in one thing. I told you!” said Julia.

Her dad put his hand on my shoulder. “I used to feed lions, back when I was a young man like yourself. How blessed I am that I did!” He tapped his nose and laughed and Julia stared him down.

“She’s having a sleepover with friends,” said her mom. “We think it’s just an excuse. Anything to get away from us!” Both her parents laughed and I played along.

The gift was a kind gesture. But at the same time there was something about it that fell a bit flat, and it reminded me of the feeling I was having that very moment with Julia. She was being friendly, but in the way that she always did in the presence of her parents. I just could not read those heavy green eyes.

But I did say my goodbyes and lingered for a moment that felt like forever. I guess in the most clich d sense, I expected her to come running after me. Maybe more reasonably, accost me while I’m walking around. At the very least, I expected some sort of sign or indication or hint or subtle moment of inertia that told me something, some feeling, some acknowledgment that we could and would see each other again.

I walked to the parking lot feeling much different than before. I put the gift and