Dicksucker
(or: The Girl in 4B)
by Johnny Murdoc

There’s a girl up in 4B who says she likes puppies, but she sucks strange men’s dicks on the weekend. A different guy every weekend. One time she came over and we sat on my couch together. She leaned over and kissed me and then laughed at me.

“I just sucked a guy’s dick,” she tells me. Her name is Suzette.

The same thing happened to me in ninth grade: I was thirsty and asked the girl behind me if I could have a drink of her soda. She said “sure” and after I took a swallow from her can, she laughed and said “I suck dick, you know,” and everyone laughed. I thought of her friend Carl, who I had seen walking around the locker room with his decidedly adult sized penis flopping about. I didn’t tell her, or anyone, that I didn’t care if she sucked dick. I didn't tell her that I was kind of jealous of her. I didn't tell her, or anyone else, that I was kind of hoping she had sucked one during lunch, right before she bought her soda.

I don’t tell that to this girl, either.

The girl from 4B says that she wants a puppy but can’t have one, and she waits for me to ask her why. I do and she tells me about the first puppy she had in her apartment. She brought a strange guy home and was giving him head when her puppy started humping his leg. The guy got so freaked out that he kicked the dog hard enough to crush its rib cage, and then ran out of the apartment with his pants around his knees and his dick still flopping around. Now she’s afraid to get a dog because she still brings men home. She really wants a puppy, so I ask her why doesn’t she give up dick and get one. She explains to me that sexual fetishes develop when you’re young, like infant-young, and her parents didn’t take her pacifier away soon enough when she grew older, so now she has to suck dick on the weekends or she’ll go crazy.

“Dick”. That’s her word for it, and she says it so often that I’m uncomfortable.

Dick. Dick. Dick.

After she goes home, I masturbate. I sit on the couch, lean back, and close my eyes. I think about her, in her apartment, kneeling before a guy. I think about her putting her hands on his crotch, and looking up at him with a smile. I think that she's always happy, no matter what the guy looks like. No matter what his penis looks like. I have seen some of her men. It's them that I imagine, standing in front of her, getting hard. I think about them, and I pull my own penis free from my shorts. I think about how easy it is for her. She knows what she wants, and she takes it. She doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks about her. I masturbate, thinking about her pulling a guy's jeans down, wriggling them over his stiffening erection. I masturbate, thinking about her pushing her face into his white cotton briefs, and feeling his cock roll against her face. I masturbate, thinking about her taking his dick in her mouth, and I ejaculate.

I don't like Suzette. She is off-putting. But I envy her. I envy her ability to take what she wants.

Suzette comes over Saturday night. I