WARNING: Graphic description of a sex act follows. If you’re related to me, STOP READING NOW!
He bounded back into camp clutching a card in his hand.
“I got my Cock Sucker Certification,” he told me happily.
“Let me see that,” I said and I grabbed the card out of his hand.
Sure enough, there it was, clear as day, “He is hereby certified as a Cock Sucker. Has satisfactorily engaged 3 phalluses and swallowed the products thereof.”
I wanna be a certified cock sucker, I thought.
So the next day I made my way to Retro Frolic and got in line to become a certified Cock Sucker.
A man was heckling participants as they sequentially sucked on the cocks of three dolls – Batman, Santa Claus, and Superman (incidentally, cock size decreased as you went along).
A woman and a man completed the circuit before me. As I got ready to enter the circuit, I saw a woman wiping off the cocks with a wet wipe.
“Man, I hope they were healthy,” I thought.
When it was my turn I got up and “engaged” Batman’s cock.
“Whoah there little lady,” the heckler said, “we haven’t even started yet.” And then there was a burning sensation in the back of my throat as hot whiskey was injected through the cock into my mouth.
Santa Claus. Number 2. Hot peppermint schnapps. Just awful. Got some in my wind pipe and thought I’d have to tap out for the next one. But no, I survived.
Then Superman. Tiny cock. Small load.
And I was done!
The heckler announced my accomplishment to everyone who was standing nearby.
“Michelle is a certified Cock Sucker!”
But only for a year. I have to get recertified next year.
So there you go. You can spend thousands of dollars getting ready for Burning Man, have a sucky burn, but so long as you can brag about your cock sucking skills, you’re not doing too shabby.
Fucking highlight of my burn.