Chapter Text
...We thirst for the seven wailings.
...We bear the koan of Jericho.
"Schlrrrrp....Iht wash... mmh... all my fault...Glck. Glck. Glck..."
Darkness. Complete and total, pressing against my eyelids like velvet.
“Mmnh... slrp... schlk schlk schlk…”
But beneath that darkness—warmth.
Strange, focused warmth radiating outward from somewhere between my legs, spreading through my limbs in slow, honeyed waves.
"Slrrrrp....My deshisions... schllk... and everyth-nnh-thing they led to..."
Okay. Okay, brain, work with me here.
Something wet and soft is moving in a steady rhythm.
Like sheep taking turns jumping a fence.
One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
—except the sheep were slippery and wrapped tight around something that definitely wasn't supposed to be this sensitive.
"...Glck glck glck glck..."
…What kind of fucked-up sheep makes those sound?
Sheep don't make slurping noises.
Sheep go 'baa'.
This was definitely NOT a 'baa'.
This was a—
"Schlrrrrp...mhmmm...."
Wet plus warm plus rhythmic plus sealed around something equals…
…Either I was having auditory hallucinations and I have gone insane…
…or someone was sucking my dick.
"Glck glck glck glck—"
…Okay. Someone is DEFINITELY sucking my dick.
In... wherever this was….
And considering the cacophony of noises assaulting my ears….
“Mhmmn…glk glk…”
…Yeah, they’re enjoying themselves a TAD bit too much.
Cool.
Cool cool cool.
This is really happening.
Every man’s dream…getting head at least once in a lifetime.
"Iht had to c-schlp-come to thish..."
That voice again. Muffled.
And a tongue.
Definitely a tongue.
Pressed flat against the underside, dragging slow and deliberate, until it caught at a ridge that sends sparks through my nervous system... then gliding back down to the root.
"...f-slrrrrp-for me to realiszhe..."
A long, obscene slurp dragged up what I was now fairly certain was my cock.
"...you were r-mmh-right all along..."
Right about what?
I don't even fucking know where "here" is.
All I know is there's a stranger’s mouth—
—judging by the tone of their voice, at least it’s a girl thank god, i’m not gay—
—on my dick whose heat and warmth keeps on making my toes curl without permission while my brain is about three steps behind the situation.
Stil—
—and I'm not proud of this—
—I didn't want her to stop doing whatever she was doing with her tongue to answer.
Sensation first.
Questions later.
Good survival instincts, me.
"Iht had to c-schlp-come to thish..."
My eyelids cracked open—
LIGHT.
Blinding. Searing. White-gold brightness stabbing straight into my skull.
Fuck—
I slammed them shut on instinct.
"Schlrrrrp....Mmh....Glck glck glck—"
The wet sounds didn't pause. Didn't even stutter.
A strange comfort, honestly—like, yes, the light tried to murder my retinas, but at least someone's still enthusiastically slobbering on my cock.
Silver linings.
"Shuch a... shlrp... magnificshent cock..."
Oh, she’s complimenting it now. A garbled, slurred, spoken-around-my-dick compliment, but still. That was nice.
Good manners, mystery blowjob lady.
"I've dr-mmnh-dreamt of thish tashte..."
I tried again. Slower this time. Squinting against the assault like I was staring directly at the sun—which, for all I knew, I was.
"...Slrp....Slrp...Slrrrrrp...."
Shapes emerged from the blur.
Vertical lines—walls?
Horizontal bands—windows?
The brightness resolved in stages, like a camera hunting for focus.
Click.
Click.
Click.
"...Glck!"
A ceiling. Curved. Metallic.
"...Schlk...sssschlk...."
Seats. Empty.
Stretching in both directions.
"Sho th-slrrrrp-thick... my jaw achesh already... mmh... I love it..."
Well. Points for enthusiasm.
"Mmmmnh...."
A train carriage.
…Right. Train.
Getting head on a train.
That's...
...
...Wait…
…I remember getting on a train after…a call…
…A meeting…?
…Something about talking to someone, agreeing to do something and move from…
…From…
…
…Where the fuck had I come from? When did I get here?
More importantly—when did my pants come off?
Did I board like this?
Did—
"Slrrrrrrp....!"
The chain of thought dissolved before I could grasp an answer.
Which, honestly? Fair. It's hard to connect the dots and be smart when someone's tongue is slobbering on my cock.
Pop.
"Forgive my... hahh... inelegant manner of greeting..."
Her voice came clearer now—she must have pulled my dick out to speak.
"But when preshen-schlk-ted with such a... mmh... such a perfect phallus... propriety becomes... slrp slrp... difficult..."
Phallus. She'd said phallus.
Who says phallus in this day and age?
...A slutty cock hungry librarian. That's who.
I looked down.
Blue hair. Silver-touched. Long enough to pool across my thighs like spilled water, catching that weird bright light that had no visible source.
And the face attached to that hair—
…She is beautiful.
Heart-shaped, with features so fine they looked sculpted rather than born. High cheekbones that went concave with each pull of suction around my hardened meat. Dark lashes fanned against tear-streaked cheeks. Purple shadows bruising the skin beneath her eyes.
And her mouth.
Cherry-blossom thin little lips currently busy getting stretched obscenely wide around a cock, MY COCK. forming a perfect seal around the shaft while her cheeks kept on hollowing as she bopped and sucked.
Above her head, a halo flickered—stuttering through colors—azure bleeding to violet bleeding to white bleeding to something darker before going back to azure.
Dying, I realized. She’s on the cusp of death.
And she was spending what might be her last moments blowing a stranger on a train.
Priorities, I thought, somewhat hysterically.
"....Schlrrrrrp."
She pulled back with a wet pop, and—yeah, that was definitely my cock. Flushed angry red, glistening with her spit, twitching in the cool air like it was offended she'd stopped.
Same, buddy. Same.
"I know this is very shameless of me..."
She pressed her lips to the tip. A kiss so gentle something in my chest ached.
"...to shee-mwah-seek an audience... mwah... in such a manner..."
Her voice was hoarse. Ruined. But still refined—the diction of someone who'd grown up in halls of power, who probably knew seventeen languages and which fork to use at formal dinners.
And now she was using that cultured voice to tell me how shameless she felt while pressing soft kisses to my dickhead.
Using the same lips that lets out such a fine voice to further cast more soft reverent kisses against the head.
Like she was greeting a king.
Like my cock was a dignitary deserving of formal address.
"Pretty sure this counts as more than an audience."
She ignored me. Or didn't hear. Hard to tell.
"But I have... mwah... dreamt of this... mwah... of being permi-mwah-tted..."
Her tongue emerged. Pink. Wet. It traced a slow path down the underside, and I watched my cock bounce in response like an eager idiot.
"...to worsh-slrrrrrrrrp-ship you like... hahh... like thish..."
Her eyes flutter closed in what looked disturbingly like bliss as she reached the base.
Nuzzled into the curls there.
Inhaled deeply, like she was trying to memorize my scent, and the moan she made—
Shit.
"Your shcent... snff... It’s been -mmh- sho long..."
Her tongue dragged back up. Base to tip. Torturously slow.
"Slrp... I almosh forgot what you’r... schlk... cock tastes like... mmnh..."
...Wait—what?
Was she saying—
Had we ever—?
"So thick..."
Her hand wrapped around the shaft.
Schlk
"Your cock... hahh... it'sh perfec-slrp-tion made flesh..."
Elegant little fingers fingers—pianist's fingers, calligrapher's fingers—barely meeting around my girth.
Schlk schlk
Her eyes opened.
Hollow. Blue like glacier shards. Exhaustation pooled in those depths.
But beneath it, the look of a woman wandering through a desert for months who'd finally found a beach and was trying to drink the whole ocean before her body dies of thirst.
She held my gaze.
"....Pleashe... let me... mmh... earn your trusht with my devo-glck-tion..."
And swallowed me down.
Oh fuck—
The head breached her lips and warmth engulfed me once more—wet, tight, soft. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside, cradling, guiding me deeper.
"Mmmmh... glk... yeeeesh... glck... jusht like th-glk-this..."
My whole shaft disappeared between those lips. Inch by inch. The visual and the sensation merging into something that short-circuited coherent thought.
"Sho... glck glck... f-full... my mouth... glk... ish sho full of your c-glck-cock..."
Deeper. The head nudged against the back of her throat. She held there—I saw the convulsion in her neck, the involuntary gag she forced down—and then—
She took me even further beyond.
GLCK.
Her nose pressed against my pelvis. Her throat spasmed around the head. Tight. Wet. Rhythmic little contractions that felt like—
Like—
"Glk—glk—glk—"
Three seconds.
Five.
Ten.
Fifteen—
"PWAAA...!!"
She finally pulled back, letting the loudest gasp my ears have ever heard, a thick rope of saliva connecting her lips to my tip. Her chest heaved. Tears streaming from her pretty eyes.
"Hahh... hahh... f-forgive... the crudeness but... pant... your cock... I need thish cock..."
Her eyes were wild now—feral, almost. The composed woman who'd said phallus was gone. In her place, something stripped bare.
"You'll forget theshe wordsh..."
She wrapped both hands around me. Stroked in tandem as she mouthed at the head.
"...b-but your... slrp... your cock will rem-schlk-member... mmh... how my throat f-glck-felt..."
Schlk schlk schlk.
I wasn't sure that was how memory worked, but I wasn't about to argue.
"Your b-body undershtandsh... slrp slrp... even when your mind f-mmh-forgets..."
I tried to speak.
"Wh—who—"
She took the head fully into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it.
And the twist of her wrist on the upstroke hit something that made my vision spark white.
I grunted. Couldn't help it.
""Shhh... schlrrrrp...d-mmh-don't shpeak... glck... jusht... slrp... feel how much I n-schlk-need thish...one lash thime..."
And I felt. God, I felt.
The tongue tracing maddening patterns. The suction that pulled at me, pressure building and releasing. The obscene wet sounds filling the empty carriage.
"Whisch ish why... glck glck... what m-mattersh are the... slrp... choishesh we make..."
Talking again—trying to, anyway. Like giving strangers philosophy garbled speeches while performing oral sex this GOOD on them would help them absorb the meaning better.
"...n-not our pasht... mmh... exshperienshesh... glck glck glck..."
A very important meaning, probably.
Life-changing, maybe.
…But fuck, sorry, your throat is too good. That’s all I'm focusing my attention mostly on right now.
"Th-there are choish-slrrp-shesh only you can m-mmh-make... Shenshei..."
…Sensei.
I’m a Sensei…?
"I've shpoken of reshpon-glck-shibility before..."
Her hands worked the base while her mouth devoured the head.
"...d-didn't undershtand... slrp slrp... b-but now... mmh... now I undershtand thish cock... thish perfect... f-glck-fucking cock…!"
Tears streamed freely. She made no move to wipe them. Just kept going—kept worshipping—like stopping wasn't an option.
"Adulthood... schlk... reshponshi-glck-bility... mmh mmh... oblig-slrp-gation..."
Each word drowning in wet sounds. In desperation. In something that felt like a goodbye.
The forever kind.
"Sh-Shenshei…Y-you're the... glck... the one I tr-slrp-trusht..."
Faster. Wetter. Frantic now.
"Only you... glck glck glck... c-can free ush... mmh... from thish... slrp... twishtedh f-glck-fate..."
I was getting close.
Too close.
Pressure started coiling at the base of my spine.
My balls drawing up against my body.
Heat pooling in my core.
Building.
Building.
BUILDING—
"GLCK GLCK GLCK GLCK—"
She dove down again.
All the way.
Nose pressed to my pelvis.
"Shh-glck-Shho... Shhensh-glck glck-shei..."
Her throat convulsed with each syllable.
Milking.
Begging.
"...Plshh-GLCK... Plshhh-glck glck-shhh—"