Greg gave the slender blonde a slow scan top to bottom, bottom to top. Her billowy white top managed to leave some contours to the imagination, but the tight leather skirt didn’t. Her impossibly long and slender legs were rooted in a pair of white pumps, creating a sort of zebra effect with her other two pieces of clothing. Her face was every bit as gorgeous as her body, she couldn’t be a day over 22. The only possible deterrent was her impatient attitude.
“Well?” she asked for the third time, hands on her hips. She had apparently already sized up Greg’s crumbling 32 year-old body, which probably looked a decade older with his bald head and belt straining to fit him into his size 42”-waisted pants. He wasn’t actually that overweight, but his 5’6” stature didn’t do him any favors.
Greg checked his watch, gauging how close he would be cutting it for his bus. With another side glance at her plump lips, he decided he had more than enough time. Maybe even enough time to negotiate.
“Sure, I guess. How about $30?” he asked her.
An eye roll, a sigh, and then a counter offer. “$25 is the highest I’ll go,” she declared. She clearly was used to getting lower prices, but Greg had been checking the ticker right before she walked up, and knew prices were up. Just in case the bus came early (and he didn’t), Greg decided to conclude the debate.
“$25 it is. But you pay for the shaft.” As she started to object, he added, “I have a bus coming soon, so I’ll be quick.” She paused for a moment, then nodded with her head to follow him.
In moments like these, Greg still marveled at how normal this encounter had become in the last 2 years. One day in mid-2026, he’d been reading a story that sounded like it was from the Onion: two nerdy MIT students had launched a new crypto called “Jizz Coin.” Apparently it was their latest and most desperate attempt to get laid, and it failed miserably. At least, initially.
Besides the horrible publicity—which alternated between sarcasm and ridicule—they couldn’t even get the “mining” hardware to work properly. When they finally got a drunk sorority girl to suck off her boyfriend and spit the cum into their analyzer, it couldn’t tell the difference between the DNA in his semen and her saliva. Eventually, they gave up and began issuing coins for any unique combination of one person’s semen and another’s saliva.
As it turned out, using this signature was genius: it created a finite number of coins that would become exponentially harder for people to “mine.” Further, since the number of coins was directly tied to population size, “inflation” would automatically scale to handle the increasing populace. An econ grad student in the Netherlands did a joking (but technically accurate) proof that this coin actually addressed nearly every shortcoming of its predecessors. Then Nicki Manaj did a music video about it. And before anyone knew it, women were spitting into baggies instead of swallowing.
As Jizz Coin, often abbreviated as Jico, increased in value and acceptance, the entire world entered into what became known as “The Orgy of Summer 2027.” Greg had lost count, but he was pretty sure he received blowjobs from over 45 women that summer (which was 43 more than he had previously). When the price topped out at $246.32, all Greg had to do was smile at a girl to find his dick down her throat minutes later.
Of course, the societal downsides were plenty. STD’s spread rampantly, religious groups nearly burned down the centers where “miners” redeemed their samples for coins, and governments all over the world had to figure out how to sanction a currency that either promoted or wiped out prostitution, depending on how you looked at it. Most importantly, men actually began turning down blowjobs. Unless, that is, they got a cut of the money. The price tanked, bottoming out at $5-ish by the winter. With all societal norms completely reset, however, many women kept on mining dicks for Jico even at this value.
As the price creeped back up, entrepreneurs were able to keep up this time, and started building infrastructure around Jico. Porta-potty-style huts began popping up to address the public fornication that had scarred a generation of children the year before. Since this is where women “mined” for Jico, they were coiley called “Shafts” (mostly for the double entendre). Purses now came with a special plastic compartment to hold the Spit-and-Store cartridges. Businesses even began offering free food and drink if their male customers agreed to be sucked off during the meal by staff (“gratuity”).
For the last year or so, the price had roughly stabilized at a point where most women without a college degree relied on Jico for their income. And that, Greg presumed, is why this smoking blonde had his dick down her throat inside a Jico Shaft next to the bus stop. She was all business: a hand on the base of his shaft for stability, another lightly squeezing his balls, and her head immediately jack-hammering on his dick which had barely become hard. Her cheeks puckered from the suction of her lips around his small dick, and her tongue danced around the bottom of his shaft.
Just as he was about to cum, Greg pushed her head roughly off his dick. She looked up surprised and annoyed, but Greg simply showed her his phone: Jico had just popped to $34.
“My price just went up to $30,” Greg said, with at least a little bit of genuine apology.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she hissed. Greg shrugged, holding out the initial $25 in case she wanted to take it back and move on. With steam coming out of her ears, she pulled out $5 and slapped it on top of the cash in his outstretched hand. Then she directed her anger back to the matter at hand, and pushed her head all the way down his dick until her nose was buried in his beer belly. He came hard and fast, and she sucked every drop from his tip. He knew she technically only needed 5 ml to redeem, but appreciated that she followed the etiquette of keeping her lips tight until he finished ejaculating.
As Greg collapsed back against the plastic wall of the Shaft, as thousands of men had done before him, the woman expertly pulled out a small tube from her purse. He heard her swishing the cum in her mouth to make sure the saliva was adequately mixed, and didn’t need to watch as she blew it through a small one-way straw into the vial. He’d seen it hundreds of times.
Neither of them exchanged a goodbye as she popped up from her knees and pushed the door open, letting it slam closed before anyone could walk by and see Greg pulling up his pants. His post nut clarity reminded him that he had a bus to catch, and he hurried out the door, nodding to the pair waiting in line outside. The girl actually looked familiar, pretty sure she had mined him a few months earlier. Hard to be sure.
Greg barely made the bus, collapsing into a seat, exhausted for multiple reasons. As the doors closed, a petite asian woman on the other side of the aisle unbuttoned her top button, and gave him a smile. Leaning his forehead against the seat in front of him, Greg groaned. He was just trying to get to work!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/r5xoqp/has_anyone_checked_the_latest_price_of_jizzcoin