This week I have been consumed with thoughts of cock worship. I have not had a sweet stick pass these lips in much too long, so it has me rather in an obsessed state. So much so that after my hours at the reference desk, attending to all those cute city boys, the long tall ones, the smart curious type, the older bitter sweet variety, the tattooed intellectual, the introverted artist, my crush from the 4^th floor…all of them, they were all fair game in my quixotic blow job fantasy. As my hours on the desk pass, I help the men, who come in an out of the library, the more I flirt, the wetter I get, in between men I sneak peaks at the naughty tumlr, write indecent, salacious, and down right smutty e-mails, poems and thoughts. Perhaps send a scantly clad picture, or two, of myself . Sometimes I sneak off to the bathroom to run my fingers in my slickness that has formed from my all my thoughts of cock. I like to stand in front of the big mirror in the work restroom, watching myself unbutton and unzip my pants, open them, clearly seeing my pantie choice day, yesterday was a simple cotton dark plum boy cut, tight, I like the way they make my ass look. I Pull my jeans down a bit, to my hips, then I watch in the mirror as I slide my hand under my panties and into my wet pussy, thinking and sinking into my thoughts that I left at the reference desk. I usually do not bring myself to cumming, but oh so close. Basically all around improper erotic behavior for the work place.

Cock worship, yes please.

All of this thought of worship has brought up the fact, the naked truth—that I, the sexed out Library Vixen, has never had a man cum in her face. Shocking! Right? I have had the sweet lava flow every where else. Down my throat, in my mouth to be swirled around like the merit of my work well done. On, in, surrounding my big soft breasts being pushed together as your dick slides between their suppleness–bringing you to the point of sweet release. Splattered across the landscape of my pussy up onto my belly reaching my tits, like a Pollack of cum. On my ass, my back, my thighs, my hands and fingers, and in between my toes. But I have never had a facial. No hot sticky mess has spilled across this librarians face.

How is this possible? Do you think it has been a respect issue, men are afraid they will disrespect me by cumming in face? Do I have to ask for it? “Cum in my face. Oh baby please, will you cum on face, please?” Or “I feel like such a slutty girl, who needs to feel you hot cum land on my face.” I want someone to just take me, grab the back of my head, tangled fist in my sex messed hair, and cover me with their cum, let it drip down, let it reach my lips for my tasting. Pull out of my sultry fevered cock hungry mouth and let me watch from my spot below you, looking up with my voracious eyes as you pull those last strokes from your beam. I love the way you stroke your own cock, and then just do it, let it just hit me, follow by rubbing your cock, your flesh into me, into your cum sliding down my cheeks, as you release your last soft moans of content.

orginally posted May 8, 2009