Short sex stories

Erotic fiction and short sex stories




What I Did for Love

This fictional tale is based on true events. Notes: (1) All the characters in this story are 21 years of age or older. (2) This story is intended for adults only. (3) In all of my fictional tales, no one has any sexually transmitted diseases. In the real world it's important to know who your sexual partner is and to practice safe sex. (4) In the world of fantasy your proclivities are just that: yours. In the real world, respect for your partner and yourself are essential.

*****

I really should have known better. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was college educated and my loans were paid off. I had a good job (though it could have paid better), and if all went well in the not too distant future, I might be able to put a down payment on a condo.

So I should have seen that the line between doing sexy stuff and over-doing sexy stuff had been crossed. Indeed, I could no longer even see that line in the rear view mirror. I had become carried away by the fun and the naughtiness of it all.

Fun and naughtiness. And even nastiness. But I can't ignore the fact that I had fallen in love with him. Really fallen. Hard. The way no smart woman should.

It was when I learned the truth about him and about us, that's when it was clear to me that I had become an addict, one who needed therapy and probably some kind of twelve-step program.

Being brutally honest: Spending a year of my life with Steven was a mistake, plain and simple.

To be fair, it wasn't all bad. In the beginning I fell in love. Truly, madly, deeply, in love. It happened fast and hit me like a firebolt. The first few months were amazing, head over heels, filled with heretofore-unknown pleasure. We were compatible from our first date. The things we did, the trips we took, the joy in just being with him. It all felt right. Making love with him was, for the first time in my life, fun. It made me excited, hot—and wet. He told me that he had these incredible orgasms. I loved it when he had orgasms.

He told me he wanted to indulge all of my fantasies. I smiled, glad in the knowledge that I was the center of his desire, but I didn't think I had a whole bunch of fantasies that were crying out to be indulged. Simply knowing that he wanted me and wanted to make love to me was fantasy enough. I should have questioned his intent. That too had been a warning sign I missed.

And in a there's-a-first-time-for-everything sort of way: Not only did he have orgasms, I had orgasms.

Sex had never really given me much pleasure. Even after four serious boyfriends and doing it regularly, it was not fun. After the first few boyfriends, I went to my GYN. She told me the name of my condition (dyspareunia) and that it was, at least partially, mental. Afterwards, doing my research, I felt foolish having spent the money. I did not need a doctor to tell me that intercourse was painful most of the time.

With Steven, though, sex was surprisingly good. He was caring and took things slowly. From what I could determine, I was probably more relaxed and therefore I drew more pleasure from the act of lovemaking. It was not always "amazing," but it was way better than it had ever been with the other men I'd slept with. Way, way better!

After those first couple of months, though, things changed. I repeat: I should have seen the signs, but love has a way of making you oblivious to the little traps springing up in front of you. It's all about oxytocin and neurotransmitters and dopamine and the amygdala. Women are probably more susceptible to it than are men, but love has a way of reaching in a yanking on those heartstrings in almost all of us.

As the relationship grew, so did my obsession with Steven. When I wasn't with him I wanted to be with him. When I was with him, I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to share everything about me with him.

Love. Caring. No secrets.

I loved him so intensely that I was willing to give up my own needs for his.

Over time I realized that his desires, his fantasies, were not normal. Well, at least the fantasies he wanted to act out were not what most people would deem normal. I didn't see it until the relationship had become seriously broken. It took me an entire year. A whole friggin' year. Stupid me.

Of course, I have since tried emotionally to put all the blame on him. And to be candid, the way he was able to manipulate me is hard to believe and hard for me to accept. So, a part of me still does blame him, but he didn't force me. I agreed mostly willingly, not because of something that was real, though. Because of the damn oxytocin and those neurotransmitters.

Love—or so I thought.

Chapter 1: Exciting Beginning

I was living and working in Chicago when I met Steven at a Superbowl party in late January.

The first time Steven and I kissed was the kind of moment you never forget. The feeling is etched inside my brain. We were at a restaurant on our second date. To be closer to one another, we were sitting on adjacent sides of the table, the corner between us. I was looking for some tissues in my bag and my phone fell out. He leaned over to pick it up for me and the back of his hand brushed my thigh. That sent a sudden, surprising shiver up my spine.

"You look funny," he said, placing my phone on the table.

Feeling a tad woozy, I said, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, just sayin'."

I hesitated a moment. "You touched me."

"Yeah, and?"

He looked into my eyes. I felt that he was engulfing me, that I couldn't breathe. I needed him to touch me again or I would die.

Sensing what I wanted, he leaned over and kissed me, full on the mouth. The sudden shiver I had just experienced was dwarfed by my emotional response to the soft, sweet touch of his lips. When the kiss ended we looked at one another. I had a sense that I had stopped breathing altogether, that the world no longer existed. Only Steven's brown eyes.

As he drove back to my apartment, he held my hand in my lap. Neither of us spoke. We both knew what was next.

Moments later sitting on my bed, Steven kicked off his shoes. I stood before him and slowly unbuttoned my blouse. I wasn't embarrassed. I wanted him to see me naked and I wanted to see him. I removed my skirt and hose.

With his finger pointing down, he made a little circle. I understood and turned around for him twice. All the while I could think of but one thing: I need to touch this man. There was nothing else I needed more in the world.

He reached up and took my hand, pulling me onto him on the bed. When he slid his hand to my back to remove my bra, the feel of it caused a spark to run across my back and down between my legs. I thought: You know what I need, Steven, touch my breasts, please, now.

After removing my bra he began to kiss first one, then the other. The sensation of his tongue on my body gave me these little orgasmic stirrings, something I'd never experienced. A couple of minutes later, I undressed him, pulling off his sweater, sliding off his socks and pants, until he was only wearing his boxers.

His erection was pushing up at the thin material. I slowly pulled his shorts down and then I saw his beautiful cock. It was pointing to the ceiling and had drops of moisture in the slit. I wanted to taste him. I needed to taste him.

Moving my head down to his erect penis, I slowly caressed my face with it. I could feel the pre-seminal fluid sticking to my forehead and cheeks. He smelled clean and manly.

Wrapping my lips over my teeth, I took him in my mouth and rolled my tongue over his head. The taste sent more of those shockwaves throughout my body. I simply held him there enjoying the textures and tastes on my tongue. After a few moments, I could feel him ever so slowly pushing a little deeper into my mouth. The sensation was instantaneous. My libidinous engine that had just recently gone from an idle to high gear suddenly went into overdrive. I climaxed. Just like that.

Never in my life had that happened. I wasn't touching myself, nor was Steven, but the orgasm happened as though I were in the middle of a full-on fuck session.

Holy crap!

Once the sensation slowly diminished, Steven tore off my panties, laid me down on the bed, took a second to roll on a condom, opened my legs and put the tip of his cock on my clitoris.

Another orgasm ("Yes! God, yes!") just from that little button being pushed by his hard cock.

Without waiting for me to finish and to come down this time, he moved his cock lower and entered me, not as gently as I was expecting. I could feel my wetness; I was concerned that, as had been usual for me, it would hurt. But this time I was more than just pleasantly surprised. He pushed pretty far in and I felt no pain. In fact, with each slow, firm thrust I moved ever closer towards more of these ecstatic sensations.

When he was very deep inside me, I reached down to feel him and to play gently with his balls. He seemed to know exactly what moves to make and did those things just right. My response was to allow myself to be moved to a euphoric state that was somewhere between "Oh my God" and full-on orgasm. Nothing else mattered. There was nothing else, just Steven's hard cock thrusting in and out of me.

In my throes of rapture, I had a brief mental flash about his cock. I know I'd seen it and had it briefly in my mouth, but when I touched him I realized that he must be bigger than I'd ever had before. I could feel some pain when he pushed as far as he could, but it struck me that even then I could touch quite a bit of hard penis still outside of my vagina. I momentarily considered if he was enjoying himself or if he felt unsatisfied by not being completely inside of me.

It was at that moment that he began to thrust even more forcefully and to pick up his speed. Putting everything into perspective I decided that now was not the time to worry about his possible satisfaction or disappointment. He seemed to be about to climax and I knew I'd be joining him in just a few seconds.

As he was about to come, his hands gripped me tighter and he strongly thrust into me sounding a big, rough low noise in his throat. I could feel the force of his effort and it had the ineluctable effect of giving me an orgasm, the kind I'd never experienced without a vibrator.

Each of his orgasmic thrusts provided me with additional peaks of pleasure. At some point I must have wrapped my legs around him and with each of his strokes I clenched, driving him more firmly into me and putting more pressure on my already satiated lady parts.

Before Steven, I had no idea that I could come like that.

As I lay cradled in his arms several hours (and what seemed like innumerable orgasms) later, I couldn't help but consider the ramifications of the evening. Could I really enjoy sex this much? No wonder people did it often. If I had had this much pleasure with other men, I would have done much more of this stuff. Sooner.

As I said: Amazing!

Chapter 2: As Time Goes By

Over the next few weeks, we did more things with and to each other. We made love in every position I thought possible—as well as some I had never imagined possible. (My flexibility surprised even me: I was glad my mother had corralled me into both gymnastics and dance classes as a kid, but mostly I was thankful to Janine, my yoga instructor.) We did it in the car, in the kitchen, behind a sand dune on a warm sunny beach and in front of a roaring fire with the snow piling up outside.

In the beginning he went down on me and licked me regularly, easily pushing me over the edge in a matter of just minutes. I had never had so many orgasms in my life. Of course, most were not huge, but that was fine with me. I couldn't take too many of those biggies. Smaller pleasurable sensations satisfied me just perfectly.

Soon, however, I was sucking him more than I'd ever sucked any other guy. He told me he enjoyed blowjobs more than intercourse. I could understand that. For me, receiving oral sex was a transcendent experience. Why wouldn't it be for him too?

But I think that's where the problem emanated, actually. At his request, I began to spend most of my time pleasuring him with my mouth. We didn't have intercourse as often as we had in the beginning. And even when we would make love, he'd usually pull out and come in my mouth. As I spent more and more time with his cock in my mouth, the time he spent on giving me pleasure diminished. I didn't realize it at the time, but sex began to mean blowjobs, not good old fucking.

It was all OK with me, though. Our love, I thought, was growing, our commitment deepening. Whenever we went out we had a great time. We went to nice restaurants, on special long weekends, to movies, to concerts, to the ballet. And we did a lot of other fun and romantic things together.

In my heart, Steven had become my soul mate. We had a bond. I wanted nothing more than to please him. That should have been another warning. Only afterward in hindsight, I could see so many of them.

One evening, we were lying on the sofa at his place and watching something on television. We were both dressed and not doing anything sexual. Suddenly, he asked me if I would give him head.

It surprised me, but was kind of exciting too. We'd never just "done it." Every time we'd been intimate there'd been a warm up of some sort. We'd hugged, touched, kissed, or even simply held hands. Things progressed from there naturally.

This was different. Steven just said, "Hey, Patrice, would you give me a blowjob. I want to come in your mouth."

Just like that. No foreplay, no light romantic caress. Nothing. Just, "Hey, would you give me a blowjob. I want to come in your mouth."

OK, I thought. I'd given lots of blowjobs. Well, not lots, but more than enough to know how to please him and I'd never had any complaints.

But, you see, when a man ejaculates in my mouth I swallow. I've always swallowed. It's sort of the natural thing to do. Guys had seemed to like that I do it and I'd always had a what-the-hell attitude about it. It certainly seemed neater than getting up to spit in a piece of tissue paper—or worse yet, going into the bathroom to spit or gag. I remember when I was younger some girlfriends said they did that.

Plus the feeling of swallowing semen is kind of sexy, if you do it right.

But this request was a little off-putting. Even though he phrased it as a question, it was more like a command. As I said, on the other hand it was also kind of hot.

I didn't say anything at all. I just moved my head down to get settled at his groin. As I was moving my head lower and about to unbuckle his pants, he beat me to it, leaning back and stretching out his legs. I had been planning to undress him slowly and sensuously below the waist. Instead, he quickly unbuckled his belt, pulled down his jeans and shorts, and aimed his cock at my face.

As my mouth was nearly there, he was already stroking his hard cock. Well, this was not my first rodeo. After one circumnavigation of his head with my tongue, I took him in. My head was at an odd angle and I could only move my tongue over and under the shaft. Its head was now pressed against the roof of my mouth.

Then he did something else that was new: He held my head firmly in place and shoved deeply into the back of my mouth. Because of the angle, I gagged a little, but just momentarily. I was able let him thrust though. Getting no negative response, I assumed, he had determined that I was OK with this new, firmer approach to oral sex. He began to do it with a regular motion. Surprisingly, he did it in a kind of repetitive pattern: two or three regular hard thrusts and then one deep, even harder thrust.

I was a little shocked at these new actions, but they excited me too, especially when I heard his satisfied grunts. We continued this way for a few minutes. Although I wanted to get more actively involved and even creative, Steven's hands were still holding my head firmly in place. And, to tell the truth, I enjoyed the smooth and wet feel of his luscious hard-on sliding in and out of my lips.

Before long I knew he was getting ready to come. His hips were moving faster and faster. His hands gripping my head were so strong, he probably would have bruised my skin if he were holding my arms. I began to taste the salty beginnings of his pre-seminal fluid leaking over my tongue.

I don't know if it was the new taste or the slightly stronger smells of his crotch or the wet feel of his hard cock gliding smoothly over my lips or even the tension in my shoulders and neck from his grip on my head. Whatever it was, it was somehow working for me. I could feel that newly familiar feeling of an orgasm in the offing.

Weird. Delightful, but new and still weird. I'd never become so excited without fingers or a vibrator on my clitoris, a cock in my pussy, or even hands on my breasts. Never. I remember asking myself if this was possible.

But the thought was interrupted—not the feelings, only the thought—because just a few grunts and thrusts later, he started to climax.

I could feel his head grow suddenly and I felt a simultaneous pulse of cum shoot deep into the back of my mouth. It was so strong that each pulse felt like one of those big, heavy raindrops at the beginning of a storm. But this was cum, not water. Male sex fluid. Steven had been coming in my mouth most nights and I enjoyed giving him the pleasure.

This time, his climax initiated one of my own, not a little trembler. No, this orgasm was a stunner and frankly surprised the hell out of me.

He kept shooting into my mouth and I just stayed in that position, shaking like a leaf as he continued to fill my mouth. The warmth and the salty flavor suddenly gave me the sensation of taking a bite of a rich, chocolate tort. It filled me, satiating me. It was all I could think of and, for the moment, my orgasm and Steven's orgasm and Steven's semen were all that mattered and all that existed in the world. It held me there for what seemed a long time.

As we both began to return to the world of the not-currently-climaxing, I could feel his cock begin to soften. I used to think this was such a funny thing, but now it's kind of endearing, especially knowing that very soon it can start to get rock hard again.

It's a little easier to swallow a mouthful of cum without a cock, any sized cock, in your mouth, though. At least for me. As he began to slip from my mouth I kept a tight seal around him so we would not make a mess. Then he did something else he'd never done before.

"Sweetie," he said, "show it to me. Show me your mouthful of cum."

This too was new and weirdly sexy. I'd never been asked to do this, but, I thought, what the hell!

He let go of my head and I turned around to face him, now with the back of my head resting on his lap. I looked up at him and slowly opened my mouth so he could see the cum that had pooled around my tongue.

"Jeez, that's so hot," Steven said.

I enjoyed that I excited him. But what also surprised me was his focus on my mouth. I felt a little disappointed: I was looking at him, at his eyes, feeling happy and content that I had given him a great orgasm (not to mention my own). But he didn't even make eye contact. It was as though my mouth and the fresh genetic material it contained were another entity, his sole interest at the moment.

Still staring at the liquid in my mouth as I slid my tongue playfully back and forth, his said, "Can you blow bubbles?"

Bubbles? Why? I briefly considered this and could not understand it at all. He'd just come. Why did he need to see his cum bubbling inside my mouth?

Oh well. This was the man I love, right?

Sure, I was up for anything. I began to gargle a little and the cum started to bubble up in my mouth. After just a few seconds it felt like big bubbles had completely filled my open mouth, some of it overrunning my lips. Not wanting it to get all over, I stopped. It was all a little funny to me. I just didn't understand it, but when I looked into his eyes I saw something that I'd never seen before. It seemed like I wasn't any longer a person, much less his girlfriend. I was just a load of cum with a tongue surrounded by lips.
Guys are weird, I thought. OK. I can play this game. If it excites him, that's good for me too. I like to keep him happy. I had fallen in love with this man and wanted to do anything to please him.

After a little more fun with bubbles, I closed my mouth and swallowed his frothy gift. He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. I then rearranged myself on the sofa.

"God," he said. "That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Give me a few minutes and we can do it again, OK?"

Thus went the evening. I gave him two more blowjobs and I loved it when he came. This was helped a little by better physical placement of our bodies. He stood for both of them. The second time I sat on the sofa and for the third I knelt on the floor.

Surprisingly, every time he came, I had orgasms and they were huge. Monumental. No one should have this much pleasure, I told myself. I was able to play with my clit a little for the second, but not the third. Regardless, I had discovered a new orgasmic experience: the "No Touch Climax."

And each time, Steven asked me to show him his cum. I made bubbles, gargled, swished it around my mouth and once even let a little slide down below my lip before slurping it up again. Each time he told me it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

I was OK with all of it. I had these strange, but amazing orgasms and enjoyed giving Steven the pleasure of both the climax and the cum frolicking. The next day, I did some research on women climaxing without being touched. I found that it was not as rare as I thought, but still orgasms for most women didn't work that way. I, on the other hand, had no problem with it. In fact, I felt kind of special. And although intercourse with Steven was satisfying, it still hurt sometimes. This new status of the "blowjob concentration" causing my own outrageous orgasms seemed fine.

Each of us was in our late twenties and sex was important to us both, important enough that if we didn't have sex almost every day we both felt an even more compelling need for it. For the next few nights I mainly sucked his cock, sometimes after we fucked for a short while. A week or so later, after a passionate bit of the old in-and-out, he came inside me and stayed on top of me afterwards for a few minutes.

When he eventually pulled out, he did something else new: He got up on his knees right in front of me and made a little hip swirl, causing the condom hanging off his now-small cock and still holding his ejaculate to dance in a circle over my face until it softly hit me on the cheek.

"Do you want it?" he asked.

I wasn't sure what he was asking me.

"What?"

"Do you want my cum?"

"You mean now, from the condom?"

"Yeah. Wouldn't it turn you on?"

Hmm, more new behavior from Steven. Now, I'll admit that I enjoyed sucking him and having him come in my mouth. And though I never understood his fascination with me making a show of his cum afterward, it was beginning to get me turned on, too. Maybe it was the sensuous feel of the stuff in my mouth.

"Well, I guess," I said hesitantly. I'd never tasted cum from a condom, but it was still his cum. "Sure."

He proceeded to pull off the condom and then swirled it around my face, making smaller circles until it dangled over my mouth. The slight chemical smell of the condom and its lubricants were overpowered by my own unique pussy aroma. I stuck my tongue out to touch it, the contents a dollop of white inside.

Feeling a need for his touch, I grabbed the condom from him and placed his hand on my breast. Then I carefully turned the condom upside down and squeezed all the cum onto my outstretched tongue.

Seeing Steven's pleasure staring at my cum-laden tongue was priceless. His massaging of my breasts and especially his touch on my nipples combined with the sudden taste of cum initiated a mind-boggling climax. I closed my eyes, my body began to shake and I was transported.

When my climax finally ended, I realized that my cum-coated tongue was still extended with some cum sliding further into my mouth and the expended condom was just sitting on my left cheek. Most surprising was seeing Steven rapidly jerking himself off. The next thing I knew he was coming again and shooting his cum into my already loaded mouth.

Looking back I am amazed at our sexuality, that both of us could climax again so soon. Feeling his cum hit inside my mouth was such a turn-on that I may have had another, albeit smaller, orgasm.

"You like the taste, don't you?"

I'd never thought about the taste much, but I was surprised when I realized that having two loads of his cum in my mouth excited me. I swirled the creamy and thick mixture around with my tongue, showing him the fluids of his sex, as he just kept gaping at my cum-filled open mouth.

I swallowed carefully because I'd found that if I wasn't careful, the cum can stick to the back of my mouth and cause me to gag or cough, especially with my head back like that. Not a pleasant feeling. But, with care it all goes down quite smoothly, leaving a funky, but sexy taste and coating in my mouth.

I smiled up at him and he collapsed next to me.

"Seeing your cum in my mouth seems to really excite you, huh?" I said. "I don't quite understand it. If you've just come, what's so exciting about seeing your cum in my mouth?"

"Well, you're so beautiful and you have such a pretty smile. It just excites me to see my spunk washing around in it."

He explained that a lot of porn ends with a woman swallowing the guy's cum, usually showing it off before doing so. He called it "the money shot."

"OK. Show me," I said. I was interested. I wanted to understand why a "money shot" was so exciting.

He told me to wait and he'd find one so I went to the bathroom to clean up. When I came back he had a video of a woman giving head to a large, hard cock. Then the guy pulled out, stroked himself for a few seconds and shot right into the woman's mouth.

Watching the guy come surprised me; I wasn't expecting it to be a turn-on. I got small chills from the white liquid shooting into her mouth. When he was done, she briefly sucked on the tip of his cock to get any semen that was still there. Then the disembodied cock disappeared as she faced the camera and opened her mouth to show his cum. I was surprised that her mouth wasn't full, but what did I know? My mouth had just felt pretty full with two loads of Steven's cum.

Chapter 3: Learning Some Tricks

During the next few weeks as occasional signs of spring were hinting at the milder weather to come, Steven lost all interest in fucking me or doing almost anything to my body except for my mouth.

But on the other side of the ledger, he was attentive and loving. We both had reasonably good jobs that we liked. He made quite a bit more than I in his position as a district manager for an international firm, and although he traveled regularly for work, he didn't have to work too many nights or weekends. And our weekends were filled with romantic dinners, impromptu picnics, nights out of the town dancing and partying, and, yes, even some walks along the lake at sunset. (Of course, as it was still quite cold each of us was bundled up like the Michelin Man.)

Then there was one night while we were kissing, he began to lick my neck and slowly moved his way down to my breasts.

Now, my breasts are really sensitive. They're one of my most valued body parts—by others it seemed and by me. They have pink nipples surrounded by reasonably sized and similarly colored areolas. They are very round, not teardrop or torpedo shaped, nor are they too droopy. They're not huge and the right one is a little bigger than the left, even if no one can tell but me. They are big enough to be slightly pendulous. I enjoy playing with them myself and love it when a man does it to me.

So as Steven moved down to my chest I felt a wonderful rush of excitement, that "oh, it's gonna happen soon" feeling. He pushed my bra up over my breasts and did a great job licking and sucking them. I could feel myself getting wet.

Then I remembered that I was still having my period and I have never been comfortable with a man licking me with a string hanging out of my vagina. It just feels weird and, somehow, a little rude.

As he seemed to be heading south from my breasts, I gently pulled him back up on the sofa, moved to the floor, helped him get down his jeans and pulled out his rapidly growing equipment.

First I concentrated on his balls, licking and caressing them with my lips and tongue. While I was busy under his cock, I reached up with one hand and firmly stroked his hard-on. I always enjoyed the way the skin slid against its firmness. Even as I continued to bathe his balls with my lips and tongue, I was anticipating the taste of his pre-seminal fluid that I knew to be accumulating at its tip.

As I slowly began to move up to get to his dick into my mouth, I administered long, loving strokes with my tongue on its underside. I remained for a little bit at the sensitive part just under the head and could begin to taste the pre-cum that was dripping from its slit. The salty taste caused me to quiver with excitement.

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. I needed him in my mouth. Reconfiguring my legs under me so that his hard-on would be at the proper level, I engulfed the head with my lips. My tongue rubbed back and forth and around it. I think I emitted a contented sound like a happy cat from somewhere in my throat.

With almost no warning, Steven put his hands on either side of my head and held me firmly, slowly pushing himself to the back of my mouth. I had become a bit more used to this action and didn't gag as he started to thrust himself in and out. Again my lips began to tingle as they became wetter from his hard cock rubbing them.

One thing most men (well, most straight men, probably) don't realize is that it's not easy to keep your mouth open for a long time. Your jaw begins to complain and you want to close your mouth, if only briefly to relax some of the strain. It's one thing to put something small, like your thumb, in your mouth. That you could probably do for a long time without a problem. (How many young kids suck their thumbs?) But a hard cock is a different story. It's big, with several inches of circumference. Holding your mouth open while it repeatedly pushes in and out is not something that comes naturally.

However, I'd been sucking Steven and basically letting him fuck my mouth for weeks so I was mostly comfortable with it. It had become quite satisfying for me when I could taste the pre-seminal fluids that seemed to constantly ooze out of him, knowing that his climax was coming soon.

He made the noises I knew were announcing his next orgasm and I just let him push until he was there. This time I began to come even before his final shove into me. My body started to tremble in the knowledge that I was going to taste his delicious fluid.

Steven did not disappoint. A few more thrusts and he flooded my mouth with his wonderful cum. Thrust, thrust, again and again. I counted at least seven shots that I could feel hit the back of my mouth and then some more that just added to the liquid mass in my mouth.

With my simultaneous orgasm, I just held on to his thighs for dear life as I went to my special place, loving the taste now filling my mouth. I wanted to swallow it while he was in there, but then he suddenly gave me a command.

"Don't swallow it yet."

I made a high-low humming "OK" sound in response.

"I want to see it," he said as his cock slipped from my mouth and he plopped onto the sofa.

As I showed him my liquid prize while he was staring at it, I began to smile. That was a mistake from a containment point of view as some of it began to flow out of both sides of my mouth.

"Look at that. You are one sexy woman. Bring up your hand and let it all drip down your chin and into it."

Another new request. It's one thing to blow bubbles, but now he wanted me to let it flow onto my hand.

Why not? I thought. It excited the man I loved. If he's turned on that's good, right?

I closed my mouth, letting whatever was already leaking on both sides of it continue to drip. Then I pushed my lower lip forward, almost into a pout position and let the cum flow slowly down my chin into my upturned hand.

The feeling was kind of hot as I tried to completely cover my lip and not let the cum just drip out of the center. It was not that easy to do, especially to do it slowly. Maybe I should practice this in a mirror.

Steven was watching my mouth and chin with such intensity that I don't think he would have heard a car horn. Realizing how excited he was by the puddle of cum in my hand and as long as I already had cum all over my chin, I raised my hand and leaned down to caress the pool of cum with my tongue. This bathed my chin in cum and after a minute, I lowered my hand just a bit.

"So what do you think?" I said to him.

"You have two cum strings hanging off your chin. That is beautiful. You are beautiful, amazing and fucking hot."

I could feel the cum strings and with my other hand I captured them, licking the cum from my fingers.

"Anything else you want me to do with this white wonderland of cum in my hand?"

"Yeah. Slowly slurp it up, noises and all. Then do it again."

Again, it all seemed a bit silly to me, but I thought about the woman in the video and how exciting it was to watch the cum on her tongue. That was definitely sexy.

I did as Steven asked. I slurped the cum up, making a lot of noise. Then, when I had it all in my mouth I swished it around with saliva and it seemed to almost double in quantity. Then I repeated what I did before and this time I could feel the mixture completely covering my lower lip and chin as it slowly oozed out of my mouth and into my hand. In fact, there was so much I had to use both hands.

Steven looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I saw that he was playing with himself, his cock already hard and pointing towards me.

Again I licked and then slurped up the cum in my hands.

Steven said, "Hold it in your mouth. Don't swallow yet. Just hold on and come look at this."

I nodded that I understood. He got up, went to his computer and opened some videos. I followed with my mouthful of cum. There were five or six videos open on the big screen, each with a pretty woman doing something like I'd just done. Three of them were Asian, the others white.

It was kind of cool seeing other women doing exactly what he'd asked me to do. I fantasized about myself in front of a camera doing these nasty things. Then I noticed that these women were capturing the cum of more than just one guy. Most of them just sat there and it seemed like dozens of ready-to-go cocks just walked up and shot off in their mouths or on their faces. A few showed the guys ejaculating into glasses or on plates the contents of which were then imbibed.

"Let me see the cum dribble down onto the table."

In for a penny, in for a pound. Why not? I love this man and obviously this pleases him.

"Really slowly," he instructed.

His computer was on a table/desk with a glass top so I kneeled down and let the cum, which was now at the point of overflowing my mouth, dribble gracefully, if grossly, down onto the table. When done, I looked at the frothy cum-saliva mix, shiny, sexy and pretty under the desk lamp. I glanced at Steven who seemed mesmerized by the scene.

"OK. Now lick it up," he said, his eyes wide and staring at my mouth.

I made a point of smiling and even emitted a mm-mm ("Delicious!") hum as I leaned down and put my mouth and chin in the white bubbly and played with it for a while.

"Now suck it up and swallow it all," he said.

It was beginning to get more than a little weird for me, but he'd hit the nerve in me that wanted to make him happy so I did as he asked, displaying again all of his cum back in my mouth. Then, with a loud gulp, I swallowed it. Figuring it would provide more excitement, I leaned over again and made sure to lick up everything I could find until there was nothing left on the table at all.

"Did you like that?" I asked him, thinking that I did.

In response, he shoved my head over his cock and then impaled my mouth with it. At first I was thinking that it was all too much, but I could feel my own excitement build, whether from the smells, the taste, I didn't know. What I did know was that I needed him to cum in my mouth again.

Things continued like this for another few weeks. He showed me a lot of videos. He had a range of things he wanted me to do, mostly how he wanted me to play with his cum. At first, the videos didn't do too much for me, but I loved how they excited him and that was a turn-on for me. After a while though, I began to enjoy seeing a few of the women doing things that appeared to excite them. A few seemed to be having fun with it and I could relate to that.

We didn't fuck at all, though. He didn't go down on me. It was all blowjobs and cum play all the time. I felt it was odd, but it turned him on so much I wanted to keep at it, to keep giving him pleasure and, I must admit, so that I could enjoy my own pleasure.

Steven and his fantasies were becoming my addiction.

Chapter 4: Boundaries

As I said, he was caring, sweet and an all-around wonderful guy, except that our love life exclusively revolved around his cock and my mouth. I still got excited by it and I was mostly satisfied, but I knew that things would have to change if our relationship were going to succeed.

At a restaurant one evening, we both had baked potatoes with our main course. Always feeling a bit randy when I was with him, I took a spoonful of the sour cream intended for the potato on the side of my plate and played with it the way I do with him cum. I creamed it and swished it around in my mouth and then slowly let some of it run over my lip. As it was slowly dribbling down, I smiled at him.

"That's disgusting and making me incredibly horny, sweetheart."

I cleaned my chin and said, "I think I'm starting to enjoy your nutty perversions, you know."

"Yeah, it looks like it," Steven said. "I know how much you love licking up my cum. You always seem disappointed when it's gone."

"Well," I replied, "I was never this way with anyone else. You and your semen have a way with a lady."

"You know how I can make more, don't you?"

"OK. I'm game. How?"

"Deep throat me."

I was a little surprised because I had thought I was satisfying his every desire—and then some.

I lowered my voice and said, "You mean more than I do now when you fuck my mouth?"

"Oh yeah, if you could take all of me down your throat I'd come buckets."

Right. Hmm. Of course I'd heard about it, but I'd never really tried to do it nor had I ever seen it done. I thought it was mainly a trick of smoke and mirrors or a carnival act. I told him so.

When we got home, he went to his computer and showed me some videos of women deep throating. It shocked me. I was amazed at what these women could do. Some could bury a cock so deep in their throats that it completely disappeared and their lips were circling the root, touching the guy's abdomen. A few even rubbed their tongues on the guy's balls with his cock buried in their throats. Some appeared to do it with difficulty, but others had no problems with it.

After I got over the shock, I actually asked him to show me more. There must have been a few dozen videos of women who could do this, some even letting the guy fuck their throats. Wow-wee!

"How do they do that?" I asked. Mostly it was a rhetorical question. I did not expect him to actually answer it.

I was surprised that he knew something about it. He told me that it's easier for some women than others, that it involves learning to control your gag reflex.
Since I'd become rather adept at—and could now get pleasure from—his cock rapidly going in and out of my mouth, slamming against the back, I thought it was something I could do. Plus, because I'd become Steven's cum-loving girlfriend, if it made him cum more that was cool. Playing with even more of it would enhance my sexual pleasure too. I was still finding all of this cum stuff entertaining and continued to have satisfying climaxes. My pussy missed his cock sometimes, but playing with my clitoris usually satisfied that lack.

I did my research and found some stuff about learning to deep throat. I didn't tell Steven that I was going to work on it. I thought it better not to let him know. This way if I couldn't do it, he wouldn't be disappointed. And if I could, it would be a happy surprise.

It began with the non-business end of my toothbrush. I tried to just put it on the back of my tongue. Naturally, it forced a little gag, but nothing I couldn't handle. I kept at it most mornings and before bedtime for a couple of weeks until I was comfortable with an object or my finger back there, even being able to put pressure on my tongue with no gagging.

Steven and I kept doing our sex play as he found more unusual things for us, well, me to do with his ejaculate. I'd often use a handheld mirror to find the most exciting ways to play with his cum. I wanted to find ways to make it hotter for him. I discovered ways to enrich the load with my saliva and just swishing it around and aerating it. Then I found some other toys on which to dribble it before licking it up to swallow. These included spoons, ladles, martini glasses, plates and other assorted things.

Steven even bought a few odd pieces of glassware specifically for me. He said it was for collecting his cum. It included stemware, dishes, and even beakers plus a few other things you'd find in a chemistry lab.

All I could think was: A boy and his toys. But the more I indulged his fantasies, the more they turned me on too.

A few times I even asked him to cum on a variety of foods to see if any one could improve the unique flavor of semen. The only thing I found that was truly enhanced by semen were chips, especially the spicy ones. We tried some sweets, but mostly unsuccessfully. Chocolate chip cookies were weird because they disintegrated pretty quickly, but even semen can't diminish the deliciousness of chocolate chip cookies. Ice cream simply covered the taste. Dessert wines went well with straight semen, but they're pretty expensive.

For a week or so Steven became obsessed with my eating even a wider array of foods with his cum on or in it. Then, just as suddenly as this new interest began, he moved on.

Once Steven came all over my face. He called it a facial, but not the kind I'd ever known. He did it a few more times. It wasn't satisfying for me though, not nearly as when he'd come in my mouth. However, I did enjoy watching him shoot off right in front of me. One time he did that and I played with myself. That was memorably hot. Just watching his cock shoot almost anywhere excited me by this time in the relationship. Plus I learned about and watched a lot of bukkake and gokkun videos.

A few times I suggested that we save it up for an evening to see how much cum he could manufacture. It was really hot seeing it all, but once it cools off it loses something. The smell changes and the taste is more intense and quite a bit stronger. We even tried to freeze it and then thaw it out. It wasn't great, not tasty the way it is fresh and warm. When it cools, and even more so when you freeze it and it thaws, it loses the thick and slimy texture. It becomes watery, strong tasting, but not delicious like the fresh stuff is.

One night after Steven gave me a particularly satisfying load, he told me that he loved how I moaned and made little noises when he came and when I licked up his cum. I didn't even realize I was doing that. I guess it all agreed with me and made me quite content.

All this time I continued learning and practicing how to deep throat. Having long since graduated from toothbrushes, I used a few rubber dildos I had purchased. Each night when I was alone I'd try to get comfortable with the thing going into the back of my mouth and then down my throat. I found some videos of women doing this and tried to see their techniques. Most of my research was for naught. For me at least, learning to deep throat was not something you learned from watching others. It was all about that old joke: A fellow with a violin case is standing in midtown Manhattan. He stops a man and asks "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" The man looks down at his case and says, "Practice."

If I were going to learn to deep throat I just needed to get comfortable with the foreign object going down beyond the back of my mouth. Sounded much simpler than it was.

Nevertheless, after a couple of months I was able to deep throat the biggest dildo I had and even to push it in and out my throat. There were angles and some places that still caused me to gag, but I was quite proud of my newly honed sex skill.

Steven's work took him to conferences quarterly and the next one was going to be in Miami. So a few nights later, after a dinner and a movie, driving back to his place, Steven and I planned for me to join him for the weekend in Miami. It was during those dreary days of March when most of us Midwesterners had had it with the slush, the cold and the snow. A warm sunny beach was just the tonic I needed.

It was a terribly cold night, way below freezing, so after getting into some unsexy but cozy PJs Steven made a fire while I sat at his dining table using his laptop to book my travel to meet him in Miami. He came up and stood behind me as I showed him the booking I'd made. It would get me to his hotel on Friday afternoon just as his conference was ending.

"This is going to be great," he told me. "We're staying at a place with a great view. We can see the skyline when we go to bed and watch the sunrise in the morning."

"I can't wait," I said, thinking that deep throating him on a balcony overlooking the ocean would be a great way to showcase my newly acquired talent.

A week or so later I arrived at his hotel. He met me at the door of his room with a single red rose, handing me a flute of champagne. I could see the sunny ocean in the background and the moment thrilled me with romance and, I must admit, sexual desire. I could think of nothing on the flight down but putting his hard cock in my mouth and sucking on it until he flooded my mouth with his cum. I might have even salivated a bit.

After getting settled we went down to the beach. The sand was warm and the sun caressed my body. My internal thermostat suddenly realized that I was no longer in the cold north, letting all my muscles relax, the tension leaving my body. I closed my eyes and relished the moment.

It was heaven. I was with the man I loved on a beach looking out at the ocean.

As I began to drift off into a nap, I imagined how much fun it was going to be when I could look up to see Steven's face with his beautiful dick buried in my throat.

Ah, yes. Life was good.

Chapter 5: Best Laid Plans

My brief siesta was just what the doctor ordered. I turned over to get some sun on my back and asked Steven to rub on some sun protection.

He went to undo my bikini top and when he touched my skin, I suddenly realized how excited I was. His touch immediately sparked my libido. I was so turned on I could only think about sucking his cock. I wanted to feel his hardness in the back of my mouth, grab his butt and then push him deep into my throat.

My excitement was so intense that I considered leaving right then to bring him back to the room to do it. I took a deep breath as his smooth, creamy hands were rubbing all over my back and shoulders. That too felt wonderful.

But since I'd been learning the technique for a couple of months now unbeknownst to him, surely the deep throat blowjob surprise could wait a little longer. I was just enjoying the warmth and the feelings of the moment.

We shared the ride with another couple in the elevator back up to the room. They too were quite pale. We smiled. They smiled back. Elevators are strange places. You share a brief moment in life with complete strangers. Then they're gone, never to be encountered again. Is that a connection or is it just a confluence of a few lives? Maybe it's the tiniest intersection of those two circles in the old Venn diagram.

I was oily and sandy and needed to wash off, so I wanted to hop into the shower the moment we entered the room. Steven though had opened another bottle of champagne. He poured us two glasses. Both of us knew we were showing no class and being a bit stupid, but we downed the champagne quickly anyway, like it was water. He then poured another for each of us. I took mine and headed to the bathroom.

"Honey, you want to join me in the shower?" I asked Steven.

"Not now, babe, I need to make a few calls," he said.

"I thought your conference was over."

"Just give me a few minutes and then come join me on the balcony."

This was going according to plan, I thought to myself. I took off my bikini, pinned up my hair and looked at myself in the mirror. Not bad, overall. There were always things I would have improved, but in general I looked pretty damn good. I was rather thin. I worked out regularly and had a nice firm but cute butt. Some would say it was a bit small, but I didn't have very wide hips. Not much I could do about that. So, sometimes I thought I was a little too long limbed, but other than getting fat, there wasn't much I could do about that either. Plus, I think my relatively narrow hips provided me with naturally thinner thighs than if they were wider.

I was too tall, just under 5'10" and at about 130, I was near the bottom of the healthy weight BMI range. However, except for pants, I was still able to find a lot of clothes that fit right off the rack. Regardless of my workout regime, this too was a gift of my genes. Thanks, mom and dad.

As I was about to turn on the shower, I glanced down, noticing my toothbrush. I immediately recalled first using it to help me learn to deep throat. A sudden rush of excitement made me tremble. My legs went weak and I had to hold on to the countertop. I could feel my pussy getting wet.

All this just from seeing my toothbrush. Wow. I needed to get in and out of this shower and get started with Steven's beautiful cock. I needed it in my mouth. I needed to see if I could deep throat him. I needed him to come.

As I washed myself, I thought more about it. Would I do OK? Could I actually deep throat his good-sized hard-on? I'd read that I should expect a real cock (versus a dildo, even a big one) to be more challenging. Was I up to the task? Would he really give me more spunk? That would be cool.

I'd really become a cum junkie. We had gotten to the point where sometimes he'd just jerk off on something—my hand, the mirror, a book jacket, even the back of my iPad—and I'd get off watching him shoot his load. Then I'd get even more turned on as I licked it and played with it, sometimes for several minutes, letting it drool out my mouth and over my chin, only to lick it up again and again.

I had become a walking porn enthusiast's fantasy. I considered this too as I washed and momentarily doubted if it was healthy, mentally. But then I found myself licking my lips under the shower and imagining Steven shooting his cum at me and into my mouth. The mental health concern forgotten, at least for the nonce; it was replaced by my sexual urges.

When I emerged from the shower, I downed the champagne in one swallow. After drying off I unpinned and then fixed my hair. I spent a few moments making myself look and smell beautiful for my boyfriend. I brushed my teeth to be even cleaner for the delightful tastes that awaited me. As I was finishing my ablutions I looked at the empty champagne flute, realizing I had probably had a half-bottle of the stuff in just the last few minutes on an empty stomach.

I had thought it was just my erotic feelings, but I realized that the lightheadedness was the result of both my libido (those damn neurotransmitters) and the champagne (that devil alcohol). It didn't matter too much. I had sucked Steven's cock both sober and drunk. There was no real difference. Either way orgasms, cum, pleasure and satisfaction were achieved. Life was good.

As I put on a bra and panties and threw on the soft cotton hotel robe from the closet, I remembered just a few days ago when Steven was relaxing on the bed watching me put on my lingerie. He asked me to do it more slowly and he pulled out his cock and began jerking off. As he got up a nice head of steam, I stopped my reverse strip show and knelt down to closely observe at his pumping action. I wanted him to come in my mouth, but I wanted to watch him shoot too.

I stuck out my tongue, trying to lick the head, but his hand was moving up and down too fast. Then suddenly he came. It might have been quick, but it nevertheless was a thing of beauty. I watched his cum shoot up and land on his stomach, his thighs, his balls and his hand. I put my fingers on my pussy and came myself. Then I leaned over. First I slowly licked the cum on his ads, but I didn't get a big enough taste so I moved to slurp up what I found on his hips and thighs. Next I licked his balls. Then I got to the best part: his hand and cock, both heavy with his hot, creamy semen. I took all I could in my mouth and relished the strong taste. I stayed there with his softening dick and some of his fingers in my mouth, loving the texture and tastes. As I said, life was good.

And now I was going to do it again.

Leaving the bathroom I loudly announced, "OK, babe, how about some more champagne. Then I want your cock to give me a mouthful of cum."

Oops!

I was glad I had clothes on, but wish I had just left it at "... some more champagne."

Three men were sitting with Steven on the balcony. They had obviously heard what I'd said and were responding with laughter and some just-for-the-guys comments the way you'd imagine. Damn! Me and my big mouth.

"I wish you had told me we had company, honey," I said, hesitating to join them.

"No, Patrice, it's OK. Nothing to be embarrassed about. These are my friends from work. They also decided to stay for the weekend."

Red-faced, I tightened the robe around me and walked hesitantly out to the balcony. Steven introduced me to Mark, Shane and Jerome. They were all district managers of other territories. All four of them were in T-shits and shorts and drinking champagne.

Handing me a fresh glass, Steven brought over a chair for me and tried to make me feel comfortable. I was still red-faced from the embarrassment of my premature ejaculation.

Plus, I was disappointed that, at least for now, I was not going to be able to show him the new trick for which I'd been diligently training.

Fortunately, there was no mention of my explicit outburst so we all discussed the hotel, the beach and the climate for a few minutes. Several enthusiastic, but somewhat strained, comments were made about the scenic view and the colors of the ocean in the late afternoon. We all awkwardly agreed that, given the heavenly climate, it was better being here than being in Boston, Minneapolis, St. Louis, and Chicago.

A few minutes later, Steven, always coming up with something unexpected, surprised me again.

No, not just surprised me: He shocked and, for the first time, humiliated me with his next statement.

"Patty, I was telling the guys about your little sexual proclivities and they've offered to add to your pleasure. I mean in terms of providing you with a larger quantity." He had that far away look, the one where he focused on my mouth, not me, the person. "This is just if you want to, of course. No pressure. If you don't want to just say the word and it'll just be the two of us. They're out of here."

I couldn't believe him. I could not believe he would do this.

I'd known the guy intimately for months. We were together just about any time we weren't at our jobs. He knew me. I knew him. How could he possibly want me to do this?

It's understandable to explore sexual fantasies with your partner. It's completely different to share your intimacies with others. I had never spoken about our sex life with anyone. It was something you just didn't do. I thought this was true for him too.

How could he put me in this position? My emotions ran from anger, to hurt, to disappointment, to rage, to betrayal and... I didn't even know some of these other feelings existed in me. As I said, I was stunned and, if I hadn't just downed all that champagne I would have turned around, packed up and gotten on the next flight home. Instead, without saying a word and avoiding making any eye contact with the others, I just got up, quickly walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.

I sat down on the stool in front of the vanity, shaking. I was feeling the effects of the alcohol and I was angry. I wanted to take some kind of action, but I couldn't figure out what to do. I loved this man. Or so I thought. Now he just wants to show me off like a trained dog.

What had I done? Perhaps more important at the moment: What should I do now?

I realize now that was another one of the events that should have motivated me to leave: For it was when the voice in my head said, "Get out, you idiot. Now!" Sadly, I didn't hear it. My addiction was too strong and I was firmly in its grip.

After some time, my anger and humiliation began to subside, submerging in a sea of sexual desire. It was truly the moment when Steven's fixations had become mine. A perverted sexual desire, but so strong I could not resist it.

I looked at the counter. I saw the toothbrush. Memories of it as a learning device excited me. Strange that something that used to gag me, was now something that turned me on. Then I looked at the empty champagne glass. I began to imagine what it would look like with cum in it. Could the cum from four guys fill it? My mind had moved from betrayal to excitement in just a few moments. I was at the mercy of my sex drive, my perverted, cum-addicted sex drive. I needed it. This was my opportunity to have it. Steven had arranged it.

So what if I swallowed the cum of other guys? Steven was obviously OK with it. Why shouldn't I be? The idea was exciting: drinking the cum from four guys. Damn.

I put both hands between my legs, the palm of each wrapped around the inside of my upper thigh. Then I pushed my two thumbs on my clitoris and rubbed for just seconds. I was surprised at how strongly I came. I hadn't been touching myself too much because of the focus on Steven's cock and his cum. But this orgasm was mine and mine alone. My body felt electric as I reveled in its paroxysms of sex for a long time. I could smell my familiar feminine aromas from the wetness between my legs.

Suddenly I needed to satisfy my fetishistic desires. I wanted, no, I needed the cum of those men on the balcony. Now.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, in the world outside, though, things had changed. They'd changed big time. Moe, Larry and Curly were gone. Steven was standing there looking at me with his big brown eyes. The rose he'd handed me when I arrived was in his hand. He walked up to me, looked deep into my eyes. Then he gave me one of those haymaker kisses like he used to, the kind that always swept me off my feet.

It felt wonderful. This was the man I'd fallen in love with. In a flash I forgot about all the weird sex stuff and wanted to make love to him. Only him. We didn't speak a word, but he took my hand, led me to the bed, gently set me down and began kissing and licking me with a thrilling intensity. He opened my robe and continued kissing my face and my neck. I shrugged out of the robe and took off my bra.
"Sweetheart, I only want to please you. I love your breasts," he said as he licked one nipple. "I love you."

He continued down my body, pulling off my panties and lightly running his tongue over my pussy lips. After a long lingering bit of delightful tongue work on both of my lips, he opened them with his fingers and focused on my clitoris with his tongue. That did the trick: I had another massive orgasm. I was trembling. Then suddenly I began to cry. All of the feelings of the day, the sex, the conflicting thoughts, the guys, the romance confused. It all mixed together and I was at a loss. My emotions were at sea. I didn't know what I was feeling.

He held me and then pulled off his shirt and shorts. His hard erection was standing out, firm and beautiful. I wanted him so badly. I leaned forward to lick it and the taste and touch of it gave me chills. Steven moved over me, slowly inserting his cock in my seriously wet pussy. With every inch my body trembled, electricity shooting from my groin up my spine to my breasts. I held on to him as he continued to fuck me.

After a few minutes we rolled over and I straddled him. This was one of my favorite positions because I could control, to some degree, our movements. He reached up to fondle my breasts. I felt warm, sexy, feminine and full of passion. It was a special sensation, one I had not experienced often of late.

Then he pulled me down on top of him, smashing my breasts against him as he began thrusting in me forcefully. After a short while it seemed clear that he was going to climax soon and at that moment I couldn't have asked for anything more. He continued to thrust faster and faster until I knew that it was going to happen. When he was just about there and he was moving in and out like an machine, I began to climax. It manifested itself by me halting any of my movements, grabbing on to his back and butt, just waiting for the big event.

Then it happened. He shoved in me deeper than ever it seemed. I got a jolt of pain, but then I climaxed with him, holding his body as close as humanly possible to mine. Neither of us moved for what felt like a long time. Eventually breathing returned to normal. I rolled off him and his now soft cock slipped out and plopped onto his abdomen.

Lying on the bed next to him, I was still for just a few moments before I found myself sliding down his side and engulfing his cock with my mouth, tasting the distinct differences between the male and female sex organ fluids. We tasted great. His cock was so wet and slimy and it felt smooth and sexy. I enjoyed moving my tongue all around it. I was a little disappointed that he didn't get hard, but it had only been a few minutes. All guys needed a bit of time to reengage.

Steven's hand was caressing my neck and back. I felt so relaxed and happy, almost like earlier on the beach. This time, though, I had just gotten laid and that added to the good sensations. As I was just playing with his soft cock I thought about the day and my very mixed feelings about things. On one hand, I felt like he wanted me to be a slut, essentially pimping me out to his buddies. But I knew he loved me. It would not have been so bad to have had some fun with his friends. Even if the fun included watching them masturbate and then tasting their cum. In fact, as I continued to mouth his cock I was getting aroused again.

What harm would there be in trying it once? If I felt uncomfortable we'd just stop. I would consider it an experiment, like sexual exploration. I'd never been with more than one other person in bed. Some of those women in the videos seemed to like it. In fact, I could almost picture myself sitting there like a porn star having these disembodied hard-ons come up and shoot their loads on my tongue and into my open, smiling mouth.

Steven was right when he said that he thought I enjoyed playing with his cum. Even though I didn't understand it at first, I felt so close to him that I wanted to please him. I loved the man. Why not indulge his fantasies?

It was just semen, right? What's the big deal? I'd probably swallowed hundreds of loads of his cum since I'd met him. It made me hot and I had learned to love the way he obsessed about and enjoyed staring at his cum in my mouth and the ways I played with it.

As I lay there with my head on his stomach, running my lips and tongue over his lovely cock, I said, "Do you really want me to give blowjobs to your friends? Are you sure you want me to do that?"

He coughed a little, probably surprised at my question. Then he said, "I think it would be fun. I think you'd enjoy it."

"Are you sure that you're really thinking about me? I think you want me to do it because you'll enjoy it."

After a pause, he said, "Maybe so. I don't know. If you'd like to try it, I can text the guys and I'm sure they'd be more than glad to come back."

I thought about it now. I got up and knelt on the bed. I looked at him, and said, "I just want you to be sure. This could be fun, but it might jeopardize our love, our intimacy. Once you see me with another man—or men—there's no going back. What if I really get off on it and want to do it more? Maybe that would be a turn-off for you."

He looked at me for a second and then rose to kiss me. His lips were cool and soft and the moment seemed to last a long time. I was suddenly filled with tenderness towards this man. More importantly, I sensed the caring emotions that he seemed to show when we first started dating. This thrilled me at the time. When we broke apart, he said, "Whatever you want, Patty. I want you to enjoy yourself and to get back some of the incredible pleasure you give me."

I wanted to respond by asking him if it was truly my pleasure or a manifestation of his. When I was drooling cum over my lips or licking it out of my hand, would he not be getting the same pleasure watching it that he would get from any woman so engaged? Could it have been anyone's mouth?

Did I really get turned on by tasting and playing with his cum? Or was all of it something that excited him? And was I doing it just to please him? Sure, I had learned somehow to make it all sexy and even to make it excite me, but was it really what I wanted?

I wasn't convinced. I feared that as I became more and more of a sexual object to—or more properly, for—him, the emotional commitment, the tenderness, respect, and love were beginning to get lost in the lust.

Chapter 6: New Tricks with the Boys

I kept my reservations about the imminent cum party quartet to myself and decided that maybe being a team player was just the right thing, at least for this evening. So, Steven texted the guys to come back to our room.

As I was putting my bra and panties back on, I thought about wearing something a little sexy. But, given my conflicting feelings about it all, I decided that I was not going to be on display any more than necessary. This was not about my body, right? Steven explained that he had told these guys that they could jerk off and watch me play with their semen. No fucking, no blowjobs, no handjobs, no touching. I was OK with this plan.

It would also be interesting, especially after seeing so many hard-ons in his videos, to see a few live and in action. Every human masturbator must have her or his unique movements. That was certainly true in the videos. They were all similar, of course, but with some differences. A theme and variations, if you will. Some guys used two hands, some just one. Some did it with their hands reversed. Some used just one or two fingers; some used all.

So I abandoned the idea of the robe, returned it to the closet, and put on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. I briefly thought about how wet the jeans were probably going to get, between my own juices and the cum from the guys, but I remembered that I had brought another pair. All good. I checked myself in the mirror. The image looking back was moderately happy, although there was concern in my eyes.

I tried to put on a smile. It didn't help much. Then I thought about watching four guys jerking off, just for me. That was kind of hot. I'd never tasted semen from different guys at the same time. Hell, I don't think I'd tasted any one guy's cum within months of tasting another's. This was going to be a new experience in many ways. That was a turn-on and I maintained that as my focus, forcing down those nagging doubts about this event.

Steven poured me more champagne. I went out to the balcony to wait and watch the last of the late afternoon light transform into a starlit evening. It was beginning to dawn on me that I was actually going to do this. Kind of hot. New experience.

There was a knock at the door and he went to get it. While I was still alone and with one hand holding my flute, I raised the other hand to my mouth, softly caressed my lips, licking them with my tongue. I moved my hand down to my breasts and lightly rubbed them. Then I pinched my nipples through my clothes. It felt sensual and I surprised myself at how excited I had become. By the time I heard the guys talking in the room, I had moved the hand between my legs and through all the material gave myself a little clitoral massage. This produced a small temblor and I could feel myself suddenly very wet. I thought I could smell myself, but it was very faint. Thank goodness for the other pair of jeans, though.

Moments later Jerry, Shane, Mark and Steven, each holding his drink of choice, joined me on the balcony. Each said hello, but with the awkwardness that you'd expect from a group of guys in this situation.

I had already made up my mind and needed to get things going quickly, before I changed it. I asked if they'd ever seen each other without clothes. They all answered in the negative.

"So, I guess, none of you knows how big any of the other's hard-ons are?"

To a man, they laughed and looked around sheepishly, nodding.

"Hey guys," I said, deciding that it was time to get this party started. I wanted to see them. I wanted to watch them jerk off. And I really wanted to see them cum. "No need to be embarrassed. I've never been with more than one man at a time so this is new for me. Steven thinks that I'll enjoy it. I'm not convinced, but I would like to see each of you cum. That, I think, would be a turn-on for me. After that, well, let's just see. OK?"

They all nodded and agreed. To give them a push, I said, "OK. Whip 'em out. Let's see what you got. Don't worry, sometimes good things come in small packages. And sometimes they come in big packages. We're not going to worry about personal bests tonight. This is about having fun. I really want to watch you jerk off."

Finishing my champagne I asked Steven to pour me some more, thinking that I'd now probably consumed at least a bottle in the last hour or so. When he went inside to open another bottle, I said, "Maybe you should bring in a glass for all the cum you guys are going to make."

The guys did one last look around. But that last statement did the trick. Each one of them stood up and took off his shorts and underwear. Then each started touching himself. I am always fascinated by the way this soft and floppy appendage becomes erect. I sat there passing my eyes from one to another to watch the amazing transformation. It didn't take but a minute: There were three cocks, hard cocks, all pointing in my direction.

Steven brought me my champagne and an Old Fashioned glass, probably about six ounces. It was rather plain, not very pretty. I thought he'd go with another champagne flute.

"I decided that this was better than a flute. Probably easier to aim into. OK with you?"

Nods of agreement all around, but in a "sure, whatever" kind of distracted way. Groucho, Chico, and Harpo were all deeply involved with their "junk," as they say. Steven handed me my champagne, set the tumbler on the table next to me, and said, "OK. I'm in too."

Zeppo quickly joined the others, naked below the waist. Now there they were, the four hard-ons just itching to come, aiming at me. I was still seated and all the guys were several feet away. I wanted to see their cocks, up close and personal. I asked them to come a little closer. Before I knew it, all four hard-ons were within a foot of me. I looked up and asked if it was exciting enough to just to jerk off with no other stimulus. This returned but silence from the trio of newbies. Steven then said, "I'd bet we'd all come if you'd show us your tits."

Thinking about showing my body made me realize that I'd become excited just looking at the several combined feet of cock, inches in front of my face. I had not even evaluated them. Probably this was more of a guy thing, but after seeing so many hard-ons in Steven's videos, I decided further scrutiny would be worthwhile and fun!

Mark's cock seemed to be very average, the size, shape, color and head size with which I was most familiar. So much so that I thought it was quite pretty. Jerome's cock was about the same size in length as was Mark's, about six or seven inches, but Jerome's cock was noticeably wider with a larger circumference. Both were nice looking and to paraphrase something Steven would occasionally say when looking at other women, "I wouldn't kick either of them out of bed." (Such a guy thing to say.)

Steven had found a spot and, moving from left to right, he was next. In relationship to the other two, he was about an inch longer, though not as big around as Jerome. Of course, he was the one that was familiar to me. Just watching him stroke was always a turn-on for me. At that moment I realized just how excited I was. I think I would have come just then if I had any kind of contact at all with any another object.

Last in my survey but in no way least at my extreme right were Shane and his cock. It was different than the others, almost not human. It was circumcised, as they all were, and hard and with wetness at the tip. But Shane's cock seemed to be a normal cock on steroids. It was huge in every way. The shaft was a little more uptilted than the others, but I had learned that that was not necessarily a function of the cock itself, that the guy had some control over the way it pointed.

Shane's, though, had three striking features: First, the thing itself appeared to be the length of a ruler, like the traditional foot-long ruler from grade school. I knew it probably wasn't, but compared to the other three it must have had a few extra inches of length.

Second, it was about the size of a beer bottle in its circumference. I couldn't imagine how that could fit inside a woman, a normal sized woman at least. Thank goodness I didn't have to find out. On the other hand, its outrageous size made it kind of sexy, like a huge dildo but somehow not of this world. I don't think I'd ever seen one that big, but I knew that they must exist. Unlike the other three, Jerome was jerking it with just two fingers, the forefinger and middle finger. Perhaps it was so thick that he couldn't get the other fingers around it.

The third and also quite noticeable thing was the head. It was a cross between cone-shaped and spherical, but much bigger than the heads on the other cocks. From just what I could see of it—in the blur of his movements—it appeared to be somewhere between a golf ball and a tennis ball. I'd never seen anything like it. Then I noticed that with all the extra length, there was room for his other hand to get in on the action: He had taken advantage of the additional space and had his other hand playing with his balls hanging at the lower end of his cock.

Looking at the array of hard rods, I sat back just a little, waiting for the moment of truth from whoever was going to shoot first. For a split second the other me, the one with reservations about this whole thing, considered the scene before me: Here was my boyfriend, the man I'd fallen in love with over the last few months, and three of his buddies jerking off just for me to play with their comingled ejaculate. Who was this woman? If you had told me I'd be in this situation six months ago I would have laughed in your face.

The truth was that I didn't seem to be that person any longer or at least I was not that person at the moment. Instead, I was some wild woman, not Patrice at all. I was obsessed with cocks and ejaculations and cum play.

Returning to the "show us your tits" remark: If I hadn't had all the alcohol, I would surely have had a negative reaction. Somehow a request of "show your tits," was crude, not befitting of a lover. But I was drunk and these cocks were just inches away. Each had a nice, tasty-looking dollop of wetness at its tips. Watching their hands rubbing them, quite fast now, had made me so hot I think I was having one continuous thrill session. As I was intently focused on their energy and their potential white liquid gifts for me, I was briefly aware that they were all staring at me too, the same way Steven did.

Chalking the remark about my tits up to Steven being in the moment, I made a decision.

I said, "Let's see how this goes first. Then maybe. Right now I want to see one of these cocks shoot. Now! Who can come first? Right here in this." I leaned over to the table, picked up the Old Fashioned glass and held it up in front of the cocks.

Mark was the first to move forward. I realized that this is what all those women in the videos see: Just cocks, no faces, no human connections, just cockheads, ones that will soon spew their thick white semen at them. Hmm. Interesting. Kind of hot, but kind of weird. I decided to focus on Mark's dick as he aimed into the glass in my hand.

With a final "Uhhn," he shot a big dollop of cum diagonally at the inside of the glass. I readjusted its angle, tilting it over a little more so that his dick was aimed at the bottom of the glass. As he continued to shoot, I was mesmerized by the velocity and how regular the shots were. Two, three, four, five. Each seemed to be the exact same size at the same angle and at evenly spaced intervals. Then they began to diminish, but he kept going.

"Oh, nice," I exclaimed, excited by the display.

At that moment, Jerome and his bigger than average cock started coming, but his first shot hit the outside of the glass. I quickly realized that the landing zone or target (depending on your view) needed to be adjusted for them all and I lowered it but kept it straight up. This way, all the other cocks could just go for it. Jerome managed to get most of the rest into the glass.

The thick white semen shooting out of his cock was kind of thrilling. "Lookin' good," I said, enjoying the erotic fireworks.

By now Mark was done and he'd stepped back to watch. Then Steven surprised me with a long arcing shot from a couple of feet away, most of which hit my wrist and forearm.

Jerome was slowing down but still coming as Steven pushed in closer. I managed to get almost all of the rest of both of their ejaculations inside the wide-mouthed glass, thinking how much would have been wasted if I'd used a champagne flute.

Although it was familiar to watch Steven come, I still enjoyed each and every one of his shots, feeling at that moment that in some special and different way he was coming just for me. Of course I didn't think about his semen combining with the semen from the others. It was all going to be one big mix. As I mulled that over, I got even more turned on thinking about all that hot, fresh cum.

Realizing that I had been making some noises (like "oohs" and "aahs"), I was momentarily embarrassed. But I continued watching as Steven came—and came, forgetting about such nonsense. If I thought about it, making odd, pleasure noises was the least of my embarrassments.

Returning my focus to the boys, I saw that with Steven shooting his last few bits, it was three relatively normal-sized cocks down, one humongous one to go. Steven made sure he got every last drop in the glass (Bless his heart!), shaking himself and squeezing anything left in his shaft out into the glass. I squelched a strong sudden desire to suck off any cum that was still on his head, figuring it would upset the orderliness of the group.
Peering into the glass, the thick cum was kind of gross, but hotter than hell. The three finishers and I all looked at Shane. He was intently concentrating on his extraordinary penis. I felt a little sorry for him. Maybe he was having performance anxiety. It happens to every guy, at least on occasion. His size almost made it something other than a human hard-on. I realized I had begun to focus on it too: I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

I suddenly needed that huge head to shoot cum. There seemed to be nothing else more important at the moment but to see him that cock come. I was filled with a sudden desire to try to wrap my mouth over that monster dick of his. I wanted to see cum spewing out of that slit. I needed that. And if some of that cum could find its way onto my tongue that would be just fine with me.

Unscientifically reviewing the apparent quantities of cum, Steven was number one with Jerome a close second and Mark came in third. Of course, those are sperm of the moment judgments, not a measured comparison.

Just a moment or two later, Shane started to come. I don't know what I was expecting, but he delivered the goods. I guess I was thinking that he'd have an orgasm proportional to his gigantic size, one that might be measured in buckets. Well, that wasn't the case. It was much more human than his size was, quantitatively. Yet, he appeared to be the new number one, contributing a lot of volume to the already good-sized collection of cum in the glass.

I was surprised to see that it did not shoot out exactly. His extremely thick ejaculate spilled or poured out of the slit, like quickly turning a faucet on and off. He must have ejected eight or nine big, thick globs before slowing down. They were spaced a little further apart than the other guys, but it was sexy to watch. I almost thought I could hear the splashes as they fell into the glass of cum. When his spurts stopped, cum continued to flow a little more from the tip. It looked delicious.

Looking at the pool of cum in the glass, turned me on. "Hot stuff," I said, holding it up high for all to see.

The part of me that was excited was really excited. It was one of the most exciting things I'd ever seen. I realized that being with these cocks and watching them shoot their cum live was a first for me. It was so different than watching it in the videos. These were real men with real dicks shooting real cum. And I had all or most of it at least in a glass right under my nose.

Was there a protocol for this? I wanted so much to taste it, but I didn't know how to proceed. Was I supposed to wait for the guys to say something? Was it OK just to swallow the whole thing? I always liked the feel of it sliding down my throat. Once I made it bubbly with saliva, it always went down easily and felt creamy and smooth. And as long as I swallowed the right way, it always got me hot. Then again, just holding the glass, now in front of my face, filled my head with the smell of cum, male sex juice, jism, whatever they called it. The aroma was intoxicating.

I needed to have an orgasm, right then and I knew how. Not worrying about the guys—and let's face it, they were toast for at least a few minutes—I inhaled deeply and brought the glass to my lips. Then I tilted it enough so that about half of it poured onto my tongue. I knew some of it would overflow it and brought up my other hand to catch anything that spilled.

The sensation of cum on my tongue hit my taste buds along with the heady scent. That was enough to do it for me. I had one of those otherworldly orgasms. My body trembled as I tried to keep the cum from leaking out of my hand, but my focus was on my body's sexual response to the delicious masculine liquid on my tongue. Not wanting to lose any, I closed my mouth and swished it around, making sure I got it to every corner so it saturated my mouth and tongue.

I finally opened my eyes and saw four pairs of them staring at me with the same expression: surprise and arousal. Fuck 'em, I remember thinking. And fuck protocol. I was in an orgasmic place. I brought the glass back up to my lips and drank in all that was left in the glass. With all the swishing, the cum was now more than my mouth could handle. I wanted to swallow it. I was ready. But I thought I'd play with it some more thinking it would help the guys to jerk off again. I wanted to see more ejaculations and more cum.

Lowering the glass, but still keeping it directly below my mouth, I slowly pushed the load out so it drooled down over the width of my lips, down my chin, and into the glass. It felt like the sexiest thing I'd ever done. Maybe it was. I wished I could see what it looked like.

It occurred to me that I had missed some cum. I found those errant blobs on the side of the glass and on my wrist and arm and licked them into my mouth. The touch excited me even more.

The guys seemed to appreciate it. To a man, they already were starting to play with themselves anew. I took the glass and poured about half of it back into my mouth. Then I put my head back and gargled with it. This produced a chorus that consisted of expressions like "Oh shit!" and "Fuck me!" and "Damn. I've never met a woman who's done that."

With that approbation I swallowed what I had in my mouth, my body continuing to enjoy itself even without any external contact. I knew, however, that I'd go ballistic if someone placed just a hand on any part of my body. There was still about an ounce of cum in the glass. I looked up at the guys.

"Do you think you could give a girl some more? I semen to be running low," I punned.

It was mostly lost on my audience, erect again through their ministrations. I then realized how much I needed contact. I could feel some cum icicles still hanging off my chin. I looked up at Steven to see if everything was all right with him. He just had the same look as the other guys, staring at my mouth the way he always did.

Fuck it, I thought. I leaned over to Jerome's cock, the nearest one, and began licking the head. I then drew the whole good-sized head and several inches more into the back of my mouth. Everyone, except Jerome, gasped. Jerome emitted an "Oh God." I wanted to push his hand away from his cock. I wanted to control its movements. But I think I still had a palmful of cum in it. The other hand had the glass. Oh well. Whatever. I just wanted him to come.

It was then that I realized I hadn't shown Steven my new talent, my deep throat technique. As I continued licking and playing with Jerome, I wondered if this was the right time to do so. I decided against it, for the moment at least. Jerome was about as big as the biggest dildo I'd practiced on so I was somewhat confident I could take him all the way, but I didn't have the chance. With almost no warning, he thrust into the back of my mouth and started to ejaculate again.

His orgasm triggered another one for me and I joined him as we both seemed to go to that Oh Jeez! place. It was awesome. I could feel him pulsing deep into my mouth and the renewed fresh semen taste was strong. I loved it.

Once he finished coming he moved back and all three of the other guys wanted the same treatment. I wanted each of them too. Steven pushed forward and started to jerk himself off into my open mouth. I briefly looked up at him with affection, but he remained focused on his sudden ejaculation into my mouth. Oh well. As I said, I was loving the new fresh cum added to that of Jerome's already there.

While Steven was shooting in my mouth, Mark came too, trying to aim it into my mouth too, but most landed on my face. I was glad that at least some of Mark's cum managed to make it in with the rest. I could feel the remainder on my cheek. The fresh new cum was such a turn on, I couldn't help but swallow it. No playing. No drooling. No nothing. Just swallowing a mouthful. If they didn't like it, tough. I enjoyed every drop.

Then it was Shane and his outrageously sized equipment again. I put the glass on the table and reached my hand out for his cock. I just needed to try to take that immense thing in my mouth. It felt like a challenge.

Turns out, it was a challenge. At first I couldn't even get my mouth around the head. God, he was big. I liked its texture and it tasted great. But getting mouth around that head was nearly impossible. I pulled him out and asked him if anyone had ever gotten the entire head in her mouth.

"One girl I used to see did it once. I think it hurt her jaw for a few days. She never even tried it again," Shane said.

"I don't think I can, at least now not. My jaw is pretty tired and sore as is. Could you just jerk off for me? I want your cum again too."

"Oh God," he said as he stared at my open mouth. "You got it."

He went back to stroking himself, again using two hands. I reached out and played with his balls while I licked more pre-cum spilling out of the head. In just a few moments he rewarded me with a load of delicious, rich cum. I only had half the head in my mouth, but it was enough to contain all of his ejaculate. I loved the feel of it spewing onto my tongue.

When he finished coming, he pulled away. I picked up the glass that still had some from the first round and slowly let Shane's cum drool down, in with the rest. There was enough in there to swirl around in the bottom of the glass. I held it up to the light and was shocked at how much I wanted it. I needed to drink it. I couldn't wait any longer.

I brought the glass up to my mouth, smelling the strong aromatic bite of semen. Then I upended the glass a few inches above my open mouth and let all of it slowly pour onto my tongue. It ratcheted up my already soaring excitement level, but I realized that I was now mostly orgasmed out. I was tired from all the coming I'd been doing. My body couldn't take much more. In addition, my jaw was sore. I was enjoying myself, but needed to stop. It was time.

I swished all the cum around one time and then made a little show of the lovely white liquid to the group, all still staring at my mouth. Oh well. Guys! It wasn't like I wasn't used to the staring.

Finally I closed my mouth and swallowed the rich sweetness. I loved the smooth creamy texture and the lingering taste of semen in my mouth. Smiling up at the guys I said, "Why don't you guys give it a rest? I think this mouth has had it for the night. Plus you all look silly dressed from the waist up with your naked dangling parts below."

Chapter 7: New Challenges

The five or us discussed it: The cum-swilling session that night in Miami was a going to be a one-time event. The guys swore they'd keep it private. I was taller than three of them so I threatened to find them and beat them if they ever told anyone about it.

They knew it was an empty threat and met it with derision. We ultimately reached a compromise: If they really needed to, they could tell about the event, but no names or connections. They could just say they had a night with a wild woman.

I was OK with that. Uncomfortable, but what could you do? Fortunately there were no pictures or recordings. Dodged a bullet there.

One new thing I discovered about myself was that all that cum gave me a bit of an upset stomach. I thought it might be the acids in the semen or it could be my body's production of extra saliva in reaction to all that semen. Regardless, I took a few antacids and drank a lot of water. That settled my stomach.

Steven and I talked about it over the weekend. He was loving and romantic and charming the rest of our time there, the old Steven that I first met, that I knew, and that I loved. In fact, we made love several times. He went down on me as I did him. The weather on the beach was beautiful and, except for a few restaurants, that's where we spent all of our non-intimate time.

On the flight back we held hands and I felt closer to him than I had in quite some time. We'd been together now for a few months. I was in love with him. Life was good.

I was hoping that most of these sexual fantasies, now that they had been acted out, would diminish in importance for him. This seemed to be the case for a while. Unfortunately, Steven was hooked and, though he hid it from me, his world of fantasies just grew. Looking back on the whole relationship, as I know now, it was a mistake for me to continue indulging those fantasies.

The next month or so was great. We had romance, dancing, candlelit dinners and loving, caring, and most importantly, reciprocal sex. I thought it brought us closer together than ever.

My deep throat ability was still unproven because I had not shown it to him yet. Each time I wanted to show him what had learned to do, something came up and it didn't seem to be the most opportune moment. Maybe I was worried that I couldn't do it well. I continued practicing occasionally to make sure my technique was still OK. I even sent away for a dildo larger than the biggest I had been using. Although I couldn't be positive, the new dildo was about the size of Shane's cock, the outrageously big one in Miami. The one whose head I couldn't fit in my mouth. I didn't think about Shane, but I found it made me hot to practice trying to deep throat it, especially when I watched myself in the mirror. I was getting really good at it.

During that time, there were two weekends where the obsessive Steven returned. It surprised me that during each of them Steven only wanted blowjobs and to watch me play with his cum. Most of the time he watched videos while I was sucking him. Then he would have me do all these things with his cum, some rather bizarre. Nothing disgusting, but still odd. Between Friday evening and Sunday evening he must have come in my mouth eight or nine times. Then on Monday he again became the loving, caring, sweet man I thought and hoped I knew.

It was so strange. I asked him about it and he just shrugged it off. When I pressed him he continued to dismiss my concerns, asking why I was nagging him so much. I didn't know how to proceed so I maintained my part of our relationship, especially when he returned to his loving self.

So life got back to normal and before I knew it, Steven was getting ready for another of his quarterly work meetings. This time the conference was to be in Seattle. He thought it would be the perfect time for us (meaning "me") to get back to the cum fantasies that excited him so. He recalled the night in Miami with him and three work buddies. He told me they'd be coming to Seattle and asked if I wanted to have a special party again.

It just came out of left field, for me at least. I had not thought much about that night in Miami. It was months ago. When I did recall it, in my mind it was a unique incident. Yes, I'd enjoyed being the center of all that attention and playing with those four cocks. And, yes, yes, I enjoyed all of that cum. Steven's damn fantasies had made me that much of a slut for it. But that one night, I thought I was doing it more for Steven than for me. I was more than satisfied with just the two of us. He completed me. I didn't need to or want to have sex with anyone else.

So when he asked me if I wanted to join him there in Seattle I begged off, saying I had too much work and couldn't really get away. I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't want to be put in a position of being pressured to go through the experience again.

I didn't want to be the girl who said "no." If I didn't go, I couldn't be that girl.

Steven said he understood that my work was important and respected my decision to stay home.

When he left early that week I missed him terribly. For the next day or two I vacillated between "This is good and maybe we need the time apart." and "I need him. I need him now."

Later in the week I changed my mind: I called him to tell him I'd be joining him for the weekend. He was delighted. I found a great last-minute fare and late Friday morning I took off for Seattle.

Things went the way I'd hoped, at least at first. The weekend in Seattle was overcast with sprinkles and mist. The two of us walked around the city, had great seafood in some nice restaurants, had coffee by a fireplace in a café and even took the ferry ride across the Puget Sound and back. All very romantic.

We had a flight back late in the day on Sunday so we slept in and ordered room service.

As we were finishing up breakfast, there was a knock on the door. Figuring that it was the room service folks retrieving the remnants of our breakfast, I went to the door in my nightgown with a tip in my hand.

It was a surprise to see a small group of guys standing there. I clutched at my thin silk nightie as they stared at me. Two of them looked familiar. Then I remembered Jerome and Mark from our little cum quartet in Miami back in June.

"Hi. What's up? Do you want Steven?" I said.

I turned around and saw Steven close behind me.

"I thought it would be a nice way to wind up the weekend. You'd probably like some more of what you had in Miami? You know, with the emphasis on 'more'?"

My mind, my emotions, my sanity: all of it just came tumbling down. In one precipitous crash. Did I know this man? Was he the loving partner I had thought? Wasn't Miami a fluke? A bit of serendipity?

I guessed it was not. He was still clutching firmly to his fantasy world. What could I do to retain my integrity, my pride, and my sense of self while also keeping whatever I thought I had with Steven from being tossed onto the trash heap of worst-ever relationships?

Turning around to directly confront him, I simply said, "Steven, what are you doing?"

"It's for you, honey. I know you don't like to admit it, even to yourself, but you are so into these fantasies, even more than I am. You want this."

"Really? Steven, you know I do these obsessive semen things just for you. I'm not doing them for me." I said, aware that the guys in the doorway were becoming restless. "Is this really what you want for me?"

"If you don't want it, fine. I'll just tell them to go away. We can go back to our normal relations. But I know you're going to miss it."

I was hurt and confused and felt pressured to make a decision, right there on the spot.

The situation was awkward and I felt manipulated by it, especially with his colleagues now standing, uninvited by me at least, in the room. I whispered to Steven that I would simply watch them jerk off. I didn't want to be a part of this at all.

"You don't even need to do anything, Patrice," he tried to comfort me. "I'll put on some porn for the guys and it'll excite them just knowing you're there encouraging them."

Needless to say, that wasn't how things played out. It was a repeat of Miami, but with more than twice as many guys and more than twice the semen.

They entered and there were Jerome and Mark from Miami, along with new guys: Carl, Burt, Hank, and Milt. Just as Steven was closing the door, Shane popped in. Shane of the enormous cock.

Just seeing him—and he really wasn't much to look at—got me surprisingly excited. The desire to see his cock overwhelmed me. I almost said that out loud.

They all sat wherever they could and Steven put on some porn. It actually started with a little bit of a story, showing an attractive and shapely woman walking in tights and a T-shirt. Then there were a bunch of guys in a van following her, discussing her cute butt.

"What is it with men that they can just stare at a woman's behind or her breasts?" I asked them before they got their equipment out.

Burt said, "You just have to watch the way she moves, her legs, her butt, everything. It's compelling. Sometimes I'll see a really hot woman, and man! Before I know it I've driven right past where I was headed just to keep watching her."

The others all agreed, explaining that a woman's body has that effect on men. Not every woman's body, but if she's hot then it's hard to not stare or even just look.
This was a little creepy, but educational. Not being that way I had to just take it at face value.

It would be repetitive to detail the next hour or two. Suffice it to say, the guys all came twice except for two of the new guys, Burt and Milt, they came three times. Unlike in Miami, most of them came when I had my lips wrapped around their dicks. Very little landed anywhere but on my tongue and in my mouth. What little did miss, I managed to find and lick up. Everything was swallowed, all sixteen or seventeen loads. I enjoyed each and every cock and every drop of cum. I was smiling for the whole thing. At one point I think I was having so much fun, I even heard myself giggle.

After the first round of orgasms I remembered to take some antacids. I knew if I didn't, I'd pay for it later. It was a smart move.

Shane was still the biggest, even compared to the new guys. He warned me that he'd just jerked off the previous night so he wasn't going to come much. Well, that was bullshit. As far as I could see his load was as big as last time in Miami. And somehow I again enjoyed watching how his cum poured out of his cock. After watching the first two cascades of cum from the oversized head, I again wrapped as much of it in my mouth as I could, loving the feel of the pulses against my tongue.

Not everyone has cum pour out of him the way Shane's does. I liked the shooters, too. It was a fun and sexy morning. After Shane came the second time, I thanked him for it. In fact, when they left I said thank you to each one.

On the way back home, I asked Steven if he was disappointed that I didn't do much in the way of cum play.

"This was all for you, sweetheart. I don't care what you do with the cum. I know you love the way it satisfies your senses. I know you need it every so often. And I love giving you the pleasure of having it. You look so hot when you're with all those cocks. You're on fire. You can't seem to get enough."

Part of me was flattered by his words, but another part was unsure. Was it really what I wanted? Maybe all of it was what he wanted and he knew I wanted to make him happy.

I slept most of the way back to Chicago. After we landed, in the cab home, I had a chance to think about the morning and I was both excited and turned off by what had happened.

Trying to console myself, I looked on the positive aspects of the day. I'd had a hell of a hot morning, with more intense orgasms than I'd had in a long time. Steven snuggled with me in the airport, on the flight back, in the cab, and after we got home. It all made the crazy morning quickly fade into the past. Steven and I made love that night. We were both pretty tired and it was quick, but everything about it felt right, the tenderness, the climaxes, the closeness.

Maybe now, I thought. Maybe this whole fantasy thing was over and done with. Maybe we'd cherish what we had. Maybe, just maybe, we'd be together as a couple.

I hoped so as we were lying there in post-coital comfort.

"Hey, babe, I hope you enjoyed Seattle. I know I did," he said.

"Yeah, I guess I did," I said. "It was nice."

"More guys, more cum, right? I could see how much more excited you were."

I didn't know what to say. I supposed that I did enjoy having more cocks and cum, but it was also gross in a way. I mean, what woman in her right mind would do such a thing with her boyfriend?

"Yes, probably," was all I could say.

"The next meeting, in September, is in San Diego. It should be nice. Maybe you'd want to come and join me there."

"We'll see, maybe."

I still hadn't deep throated him or even told him that I'd been working on it. It had to be special, I felt, and I was waiting for the right time. Things had become such a roller coaster ride that the times of his tenderness didn't last long enough for me to want to do it to him.

Our sex life went back to becoming the one-way street it had been for a long time. Most nights I sucked his cock, sometimes twice, and often in the morning too. Every few days we'd fuck, but I still gave him probably a dozen blowjobs a week. But, hey, who's counting?

One night we were in bed, watching some cum-centric porn on the big display on the wall. He was lying with his head propped on a pillow and I was lying with my head on his abs facing the screen with his rock hard dick in my mouth. One of the video windows had a bunch of guys jerking off in this woman's mouth. That was not new to me at this point. However, she had such a big smile that it seemed like she was really enjoying it.

"Do you want me to get on the floor on my knees like that so you can jerk off in my mouth?" I asked him.

"Maybe later. Right now I want to show you something special," he said.

Then he opened a video with the same woman holding some kind of glass tray or dish. It looked like it might be crystal, though I can't imagine an expensive item like that in porn. Guys were walking up to her and jerking off in her mouth and she'd let it fall into the dish. If a guy was ready when she was busy with one cock, he'd just shoot his load into the tray. After what must have been thirty or forty guys, maybe more, there was a whole pool of semen sloshing around that dish.

When all the cocks disappeared she began to lick at the cum, turning her head a little to the side, putting her cheeks and chin in the pool. Still looking like the happiest girl in the world, she then put on a show for the camera. It was quite a exhibition because she had so much cum to play with. After transferring most of the cum on her face back into the dish, she picked up a spoon and ate several spoonfuls. Her smile was so radiant that either she was the greatest actress ever or she was really enjoying herself.

Over the next five or ten minutes she did almost anything I'd seen in any of the videos. She drank it from the edge of the tray, she picked it up with her fingers and put it in her mouth, she slurped it, she poured it in a glass and drank some of it, she put some on a salad and ate it, and she did it all with that endearing and very pretty smile. At the end she drank it all down and grinned. Then she licked every inch of the tray. As the video faded out she blew a kiss to the camera.

You'd think, "Hey, I've seen it all before," but there was something special about this scene. That girl was really having a good time.

"She really enjoys that spunk, huh?" Steven said.

I had been watching, fascinated, while I was licking and rubbing Steven's hard cock on my face. I agreed with him.

"You didn't look that happy in Miami or in Seattle," he said.

"Well, they were both experiences for me. Plus I was doing it for you. Well, mostly. I have to admit that I had fun too."

"I don't know, Patty, you've become quite a cum lover. I think you'd miss it if you didn't have it to drink every day."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. I think you'd miss it if you didn't have semen regularly."

"Come on," I argued. "You think I need to have it?"

"Yeah, I do."

"OK. I won't suck you then. I'll wait until you ask me to."

"I don't need you to. I just enjoy giving you the pleasure of my cum. If you don't want to suck me, that's fine. I can live without it."

This discussion had gotten weird fast. I did enjoy making him happy and I knew he enjoyed my blowjobs more than anything else. I think it was his favorite thing to have me suck him and then watch me play with his cum.

I couldn't figure out how things had gone so wrong. Why was he daring me not to give him blowjobs?

Where it came from I'll never know, but the line from A Midsummer Night's Dream sadly popped into my head: "So quick bright things come to confusion."

Oh well. We'll see what happens with this new dare.

A few days went by during which we didn't have any sex. I missed it, but that was OK. I wondered if he was jerking off when I didn't see him.

This went on for a week. Each night we'd cuddle and he'd have a hard-on. I'd ask him if he wanted to make love or if he wanted me to suck him. He'd say no, only if I told him I needed it. He'd remind me that I was the one who was missing his cock and his semen.

After this had gone on for several weeks, things became quite tense all the times we were together. The distance had grown between us without the physical part of the relationship. I didn't know what was happening. I missed him. I missed our lovemaking. We stopped going out and I felt like the relationship was coming to an end.

It occurred to me that he might be getting his blowjobs elsewhere. That saddened me, but I had no evidence at all. Plus, I really didn't want to know. I hoped we'd be able to work on things. I wanted to make the many good parts of our relationship a success. Except for this crazy sex stuff, I loved being with him.

Before I knew it, he was preparing for that next quarterly meeting in San Diego. He asked me again if I wanted to meet him there. Part of me thought there was no point. Things had gotten too strange. The relationship was probably unsalvageable. This sex boycott/competition was forcing the end of the relationship. We were over, but just hadn't admitted it.

Maybe going away together would help us see how we'd gone wrong. Maybe we might find a way to get the relationship back on course. Ultimately, I agreed to meet him in San Diego and made travel plans. But I warned him that I didn't want any other guys, just us. He promised that it would just be the two of us.

By the time I left for San Diego, we'd not had sex for more than a month. I missed it. I couldn't figure out why this crazy game had started, but it felt stupid. On the flight out I fantasized about sucking his cock and drinking his sweet cum. How strange. Most women have fantasies about love, romance, soft music and their lover in a tender embrace. I, however, had fantasies about my man's cock in my mouth and licking up his semen. Jeez! Maybe he was right. Maybe it had become my addiction.

Finally, just before we arrived I thought about our current entente and that it was time for it to end. We could talk about it and get it behind us, I hoped. This trip would be the perfect opportunity to show him my new deep throat talents—or at least to take the opportunity to practice on him. How much fun would that be! I'd been working on the biggest dildo and actually had made a little progress.

Just like the last time, three months ago, he greeted me at the door with a single red rose. I could hear music on in the room. I was apprehensive that there'd be others in the room, but from what I could see it looked like we alone, just the two of us. He had gotten a suite and the place was huge. Then he surprised me by giving me a romantic kiss and handing me a glass of champagne. I followed him into the room, holding the champagne and rose in one hand and my wheelie bag in the other.

Then I had the real shock, the one I should have been expecting. The shock I had dreaded. I couldn't believe my eyes. The large central room of the suite was crammed with guys, of all ages. There were dozens of them. Dozens, plural. The big display on the wall had several videos playing, a few were of the same smiling woman playing with cum that he'd shown me the night all this craziness began. What was happening?

"Steven, what is this? Who are all of these people? What's going on? You promised."

"Sweetheart, I know you miss sucking my cock. It's been weeks and you haven't had any. You need it. You're dying for it, like a soul lost in a desert looking for water. You have to have it. Well, here it is. I figured you missed more than fifty or maybe sixty loads of cum since we had our fight. So I got these guys just for you. I'm sure you'll get way more than sixty loads tonight.

"If you're not interested, I understand. I'll respect your decision. I'll ask them all to leave and we can continue our little rivalry. Or you can just take a cab back to the airport. It's up to you."

"Steven, this isn't right. I love you," I said to him, tears welling up in my eyes. "How can you do this? Don't you have any respect for me or even for yourself?"

"It's because I love you that I did this. Patrice, this is for you, baby, to give you pleasure. More than I can alone."

I was exhausted from the long trip from Chicago to San Diego. I had expected something completely different. How could I have ever loved this man? How could he say he loved me and want me to have sex with all these men? Hadn't he promised? Miami and Seattle were one-time things, at least in my mind. I was heartbroken. This was abasement. This was degradation. This was humiliation on a completely new level.

Pausing to try to figure out what was happening, if this was real, I said, "You can't want me to have sex with other men. That's not love."

I tried to think, but all of a sudden it was dead silent in the room. All these guys stopped watching the girl with the pretty smile and her mouthfuls of semen. Instead they were looking at me, staring, like I was their entertainment.

"Love is about being primary with another person. It's about a commitment to that person. It's not about showing her off for your amusement."

He looked at me, just like everyone crammed into the room. "Patty, I'm not doing this for my enjoyment. This is for you. I know you. I know how horny you are after weeks with no sex. You needed this. And now I'm giving it to you. It's a present."

I couldn't speak. I stood there and started to really cry. No one moved. Steven didn't do anything. He let me cry, saying nothing. After a couple of minutes of just my sobbing I pulled myself together. I reached into my bag, found some tissues, and wiped my nose. I thought about everything and slowly turned around. I was going home.

No one made a sound as the door closed behind me. I walked with my wheelie to the elevator and began to cry again. How could I love this man and have him betray me like this?

He must have followed right behind me, because I heard him say, "You want this, Patty. You do, but you just can't accept it. You can't accept that you are a sexual being and this is your way. Loving me is only part of your need. You need this kind of sex to feel whole."

He then put his arms around me and I broke down again. This time I just collapsed on the thick, patterned hallway carpet, bawling like a child who's lost her dolly.

"What is it with me?" I said. "Why do I love you? Why do you do this to me?"

"I do this for you, sweetie, not to you."

That somehow sunk in and I began to think about the work of getting all those men in one room just to jerk off for a woman they'd never seen. That seemed like a bit of trouble, but I obviously don't know men well or I would not have even been in San Diego. I internally chuckled at that.

He helped me up. Then hugged me and kissed me. I almost melted. It was sensual, but loving and caring. I was back to being confused. This time, not with a handful of guys, but with dozens of them, just like the girls in the videos.

"You really want me to do this?" I asked him.

"I love you. These guys are for you, sweetheart."

Aw shit. I was such an easy mark. As we walked back to the room, I cleaned up my eyes and nose. Then I took a deep breath and paused.

I looked at Steven. He had a loving gleam in his eyes, but there was also that faraway look, the one where he's staring at my mouth, enjoying seeing it full of semen.

"OK," I told him. "Bring on the hard-ons and let the cum fly!"

Part of me wanted to take a quick shower, but I realized that if I thought about it again, alone, I'd never go through with it.

I was doing this for Steven, at least I thought that was true. But, suddenly I realized that I'd missed him, his cock, his ejaculations. I'd missed sucking him two or three times a day. I wanted his cock. I wanted all of those cocks. I did need them to do what they do, to come for me. It would get me off. I needed to get off.

Fuck the shower. I wanted to see guys come.

I almost barged into the room, surprising all the men in there. I pushed my way through to the middle of the couch and sat down. I grabbed the two guys on either side of me and started to unbuckle their belts. They clearly couldn't wait for me to fumble around with their pants, so with a quick flick I had two hard dicks staring me in the face.

"Give me these cocks," I said and pulled them close enough to lick both of their heads simultaneously. The male aroma and the taste of pre-cum shocked me. It had been so long. I did need it. I needed as many cocks as I could get.

It seemed that within only a minute or two, both of them came. Their orgasms were messy, some cum shot into my mouth with other globs of cum hitting my cheeks, forehead, nose and who knows where else. I loved it and came right with them, enjoying the way the semen blasted out of them. I had a short, fast climax and I wanted more.

"More cocks," I mumbled while licking up what I could. Three guys came up to me, jerking themselves also. I didn't do a thing. I just opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. Before I knew it I had three loads just sitting there. I could feel it smothering my tongue. I closed my mouth, swished the cum around and swallowed.

"Next," I commanded and there they were: more cocks. Cocks are far as I could see, each one pointing at me. Big ones, short ones, really long ones, ones that were uncircumcised, fat ones, a huge array, just wanting to come on my face.

I was so turned-on I couldn't sit still. I began to rock slowly, trying to get some action going, even a little, down in my pussy. It was just a momentary distraction, though. A few seconds later there were more cocks shooting in or near my mouth.

I was a crazy woman. I started to laugh a little at myself and my behavior. I had a big grin on my face. Some of the guys actually came on my lips and teeth while I was smiling.

Not everyone was a marksman. Quite a few of the guys, even the ones I thought were trying to aim at my mouth, just came anywhere. Twice when my head was back, enjoying a big swallow, a guy came directly up my nose. That was not fun at all. After that I had learned my lesson and no longer put my head back to swallow. Then there were also three direct shots in my eyes, but I managed to wipe those out quickly before the cum had a chance to cause trouble. I don't care if it is cum, it's just an uncomfortable feeling. It's not fun when it goes in your nose or eyes.

Things proceeded this way for twenty, maybe thirty, minutes. All of these guys were ready. I wondered how long they'd been watching porn. I wondered if any of them had a girlfriend. If he did, how would she feel about me being a masturbatory—or was it an ejaculatory—target for him?

During that time I think I had at least two cocks shooting at me almost continuously, or so it seemed. The thing that amazed me the most, well, it was one of the coolest things at least, was that there was cum all over me. After the first dozen or so I stopped even thinking about trying to stay neat, or what I looked like, or even if my jeans had cum globs all over them. I just knew that everything was full of semen. It was everywhere, all over my face, in my hair, on my neck, my blouse and all over my hands and arms. During the few seconds between a guy squeezing out the last bit of semen, going away and allowing the next in, I tried to lick the cum in my hands, on my fingers and anywhere I could find big globs of it. Before I had much of a chance to locate more, there were replacements ready to go.

As each hard cock came to me, I saw it as a thing of beauty. I even felt a little sad when it was done coming and that lovely thing that had just given me its semen went away. But then another hard-on showed up and I loved seeing it too, especially when it came for me. Maybe this is similar to the way guys check out a girl who looks hot, I thought.
I also noticed that the way each dick came was special. Some guys shot out fast and it was over. Some came in widely spaced intervals. Some didn't shoot at all, they oozed out, similar to Shane. Each cock was a joy to behold and each gave me its cum.

It was during this time, I later learned, that sixty-three men ejaculated at, in, or on my face and facial adjacent areas. I thought that dozens of guys would take all night. But I should have known that horny guys can be quick. When the line ended, a lot of the guys wanted to go again.

Looking around I was surprised that I didn't see Steven. Then he came from the other room and said, "Some of the guys asked me if they could go again."

This remark disturbed me. I was really insulted that they asked Steven.

"No!" I almost yelled to him. "You have nothing to do with this. Guys, these are your dicks and this is my mouth. You want to go again, you ask me. Damn it!"

There was a sudden silence in the room, except for the looping videos.

"You think she's hot?" I asked the group in general, pointing to the video. I got no response.

"Well?" I said again, louder.

Most of the guys agreed that she was. I said "You got something you want to cum on like that?"

Somewhere someone found a tray. It was under the ice bucket and drink glasses. He brought it over and handed it to me. I wanted to see each one of them shoot on it. I looked down and saw that the bottom was a mirrored surface. It felt familiar to me because of all the cum play I'd done on mirrors with Steven.

The first bunch was ready for their turns in no time. That must have been about half of them, the guys who had gone first. In just a few minutes the tray with its mirrored bottom had drops and dollops and driblets of cum all over it. I leaned forward taking in the strong smell of cum. Then I began to lick it up, my tongue extended and sliding over the smooth cum-covered surface. Once my face and lips and tongue were coated in it, the activity was one of the most sensuous things I could ever have imagined, sliding easily across the almost completely filled, slimy bottom. Quite a few guys came on my face while it was bathing in the cum on the tray.

For just a moment I supposed that having a cock in my mouth would have enhanced the experience.

Then I remembered the surprise I had for Steven: my throat. But since someone else was there and he had a nice, normal sized hard-on, I grabbed him and pulled him to me, resting the tray on my knees. He was hard as a rock and his cock was smooth. I rubbed it around my cum-covered face (If it made him uncomfortable, touching the cum of other guys, he kept it to himself.), then sucked him deep into the back of my throat and stopped.

If I was going to do this, I was not going to gag. I was going to do it right. I made sure his cock was lined up the way the practice dildos were, then I examined the remainder of his cock: Just a few inches more, I thought. I can do this. I grabbed around him, holding firmly onto his ass cheeks. Then I slowly and carefully pulled him back and down, into my throat.

I didn't gag at all. In fact, he went in more easily than I'd expected and I was in control. Even though my nose was pushing against his abdomen, I wondered if I could do more. Carefully, I held him there and pushed further against him. His pubic hair tickled my face, but all the cum drying on it actually annoyed me more than his hair.

He had been jerking himself when he came over to me so I didn't know what to expect. Would he just come down my throat? Did he want to push in and out, the way Steven often fucked my mouth?

He made a low groan. Then again. And again. Fortunately, as it was my first time, I felt him pull back and he was already starting to soften. He had come down my throat and I didn't even get a chance to taste it. Oh well. Obviously there was more where that came from, figuratively speaking because he looked done for the night.

Another guy walked up and said, "Did you just deep throat him? I've never seen that, I mean, live. Can you do me, please?"

His dick was also happy to see me. It was a little bigger than the first, but I still thought it manageable. I watched him jerk himself for a few moments and then after licking his head for a tasty bit of juice, he put the head in my mouth. Unfortunately, just that triggered his orgasm and he came then all over my tongue. It felt nice and thick. In my focus on my new deep throating techniques I had forgotten how much I enjoyed the simplicity of a cock shooting on my tongue.

I played with it a little and, at the moment, there was no one else ready, I drooled it onto my hand. I didn't know who was watching and I didn't really care. I was playing with the cum for myself, not for anyone else. I found that there was a mirror facing the couch and studied myself awash in semen. It was sexy to see. I saw how much cum there was all over and laughed. I was a mess.

It surprised me that no one else wanted to get deep throated, but I think it was just that no one knew I could do it yet. After all those weeks, no, months of practicing I was ready. Obviously I hadn't made a marketing plan! As I considered if I should make an announcement, two guys walked up with nice looking cocks, one long and the other a little longer.

The little longer one I remembered from earlier because he shot a lot of cum. "I want you in my throat," I said to him.

"Yeah, right, no one's ever deep throated me. What makes you think you can do it?"

"Buddy, put you money where my mouth is and let's see," I joked with him. "You want to make it interesting?"

He said, "What d'ya have in mind?"

"If I can get you in my throat, you'll lick me until I come. And the way I'm feeling right now that should take no time at all." In fact, I thought to myself, if you just breathe on it, that should do it.

"And if you can't?"

"Well, then you can fuck my throat until you come?"

"Deal," he said. "Too bad that in a few minutes, your throat's gonna be sore."

"Yeah, right. Come here and gimme that thing," I said, reaching out to manhandle his cock. When I grabbed it, I was surprised at how big around it was. It didn't look that big at first from a distance. He was definitely bigger around than Steven. I wondered if I'd be able to deep throat him. After all, I'd really only done it once just a couple of minutes ago and that guy's dick was slimmer.

With my hand still holding him I licked around the slit, getting wetter again tasting his pre-seminal or maybe post-seminal fluids. OK. It was time. I carefully pulled him into my mouth and tried to keep the motion going straight into my throat. I was moderately successful. At one point I began to gag, but was able to control it, even though my shoulders shot up sharply and involuntarily. But, I managed to stay calm and took him deeper, almost down to the root. Because we'd made our little bet, I was already anticipating his tongue on me. The problem was that I still hadn't finished my side of the bargain.

I let him out a little. My jaws were sore from holding my tongue out so long, but I persevered and managed slowly to pull him really deep. His width added to the pressure of him in my throat, but I was able to relax enough to get it under control. He was moaning and saying some very sweet things, but I still felt that there was more I could get down. I gave it another shot and this time I was able to fully ensconce his dick all the way to the base, feeling my upper lip touching his stomach.

Although I didn't feel him coming, at least not yet, I enjoyed hearing him say things like, "Holy shit! Amazing!" As for all of the others, I don't know what they were doing but at least some, after they'd come and seen me vacuum all of that semen, some became disinterested in watching. That was OK with me. I wanted to practice a few more times before giving my facial musculature a rest.

Chapter 8: Bigger Challenges

Mr. BigAround continued his complimentary words ("No one's ever done that to me!" and "Damn, woman!" among other appreciative remarks) and he was getting quite loud. Others heard and turned in our direction. I guess they were enjoying the disappearing cock act. Before letting him go, I tried to see if I could lick his balls while he was in my throat. I didn't get too far. It was not something I'd practiced and it was difficult to keep it together. He didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, I knew he was going to be a soon-to-be satisfied customer.

When I finally pulled him out I looked up, he simply said, "You won. When you're done sucking these guys, you let me at your pussy. I'm gonna rock your world." He stuck out his tongue and made a show of rapidly flicking it back and forth. He was already back at stroking his cock with fervor. Then he said, "OK, where do you want it?"

Just the question—or maybe the way he asked it—was sexy, though I wasn't sure exactly why. It felt so naughty negotiating for a destination for the guy's load. No, it was beyond naughty. It was nasty and probably amoral and deranged. For the moment, though BigAround and his cock had been as much my target as I was his. His big fat cock along with that beautiful darting tongue were all I could think of.

I stuck out my tongue and indicated the target. I wasn't disappointed. He was high enough above my tongue that I was able to look down and see him come just a tad later. I enjoyed seeing him shoot, more times than I expected, especially for his second go. It gave me chills.

Although I was getting tired and my jaws were really aching, I wanted to try to deep throat a few more guys, including Steven. Six or seven more were ready to come again and walked close to me essentially forming two lines. By the time the first cock was in front of my face I had returned to just seeing hard-ons, not the wide array of men to which they were attached. It was all OK, because my current goal was to keep working on my throating technique. Dildos be damned. This was the real thing and I wanted this. It was so much more fun than those dildos.

In short order I deep throated each of them, feeling more secure each time: I had learned the technique fairly well. One of the last of the bunch was Steven. He simply said, "You're one in a million, baby. I learn more about you every day. Now deep throat me."

His cock head was dripping seminal fluids, causing me to moan a little when I tasted him. As I pulled him deeper into my mouth he pushed forward and was soon down my throat. It was satisfying having him deep in my throat and giving him pleasure. I always enjoyed making love to his cock. I tried to massage his cock with my throat. But I found that it sounded more of a "thing" than it was in reality. I didn't notice any difference.

Again I tried to lick his balls and it was still a rather feeble attempt, but I thought it was something I could learn to do better. He started to push in and out and then his pushes became thrusts, until he was actually fucking my throat, even if he was really only moving millimeters in and out. His pubes tickled my nose every time it connected with his belly. I stayed with it, though, wanting to please him. His excitement was evident and I nearly came just from that feel. All of a sudden he pulled back.

I didn't know why or what he wanted, but then he shoved his cock back down my throat. I wasn't quite prepared, but managed to handle it. Suddenly I could feel him ejaculating way down in my throat. Momentarily I was sorry that I wasn't going to taste it, but I climaxed just by the feeling of his contractions. Totally hot. I almost zoned out between the pleasure of causing his climax and my own, but I just held onto him, hoping to get some of his cum when he pulled out.

Steven didn't disappoint. He still had some sex fluids in the pipeline that I could taste when he disengaged from my throat and mouth. It was as always a treat, but I wanted more. I looked down at the tray. There was still quite a bit of cum on it. Raising it to my mouth, I licked the biggest globs first. It wasn't as satisfying as slurping up larger quantities of warmer cum though, but still sexy. Eventually I finished the rest of the cum on the tray, not leaving a drop.

More than a dozen new second comers appeared. I took the glass flute that still had champagne and drained it.

"My jaw is really killing me, guys. Would you mind jerking off into this?" I asked them.

They were happy to oblige my outrageously expressed passion. I wondered briefly how many other women had ever done something like this, but realized it was a fruitless bit of mental gymnastics. Who cares?

After the last group, which turned out to be more like two dozen, finished coming in the glass, it was graciously offered to me. I looked at the white creamy liquid and thought about the evening, about how I had actually done this. Why had I done this. And, that it was wrong to do it. I started to beat myself up and then the light hit the cum in the glass in a certain way. It looked kind of pretty. How strange is that?

I'd had maybe a hundred loads of cum shot at me in the last hour or so from dozens of strangers. What kind of woman does this? I'm looking at this glass full of semen and thinking it looks pretty. Had Steven found a hidden me that I never knew existed?

The guys seemed to have done a nice job. There must have been a few ounces in the glass. I brought it up to my nose and pulled in as much of that organic male smell as I could. It was almost overpowering, but made me hornier. I wanted to drink it, but I also wanted some human touch.

Feeling the smooth glass against my chin caused me to lick the rim. My tongue found some globs on the side that I continued licking and sucking up all the way down the glass and its stem.

Then I remembered that Mr. BigAround lost the bet!

I saw him sitting not far away and yelled out, "Hey, big guy. You ready to pay up?"

"Baby, you know it."

As he came nearer, I looked down at my messy, sticky self. Oh well. What can you do?

I stood up, slipped out of my shoes, jeans, and panties. Then I sat down, ignoring the feeling of all the wet spots on the couch. I spread my legs and brought his head down to my crotch.

It didn't take much at all. In fact, it didn't take anything. I had a small orgasm just from the first touch of his tongue. Things only got more intense from there, but I told him not to stop. I leaned forward a little, brought the glass to my lips, and tipped it far enough that it slowly spilled down over my tongue and into my mouth. Between the taste on my tongue and the tongue on my clit I might have died and gone to heaven. This was, for the moment at least, total bliss. Wowee!

Eventually Mr. BigAround finished me. I sat there and slowly surveyed myself, the glass and the tray. I found as much cum as I could, sucking in all of it. Next I got up to pull on my panties. I don't know why, but it just didn't feel right to be naked. It occurred to me that it was strange to be intimate with all of these male genitals while I still felt a sense of propriety.

All sick and disgusting and over-the-top hot behavior needs to come to an end sometime. This evening was no different. Most of the guys had come twice, some three times. (My hat was off to those few along with my appreciation for their efforts.) And most left pretty soon after they were done for the evening. It was at that moment I remembered that I hadn't taken any antacids. Uh-oh. I ran to drink a couple of glasses of water and take two or three tablets.

Steven told me that he had tried to count the number of loads that were shot, but lost track at 113, although he was sure there must have been a few dozen more.

At first this fact disgusted me, but once I admitted to myself what I had done that evening and the fun of it all—plus the pleasure I had received—I decided not to obsess about it. It was what it was. I was beat. All that sucking and throating, not to even mention the physicality of my own orgasms, suddenly hit me like a big wave.

Then I sat back and tried to focus on relaxing my jaw. There were still a few of Steven's friends around, but they were watching a ball game, sex no longer of interest, at least for the time being. As he was leaving, I sincerely thanked Mr. BigAround.

I went into the bathroom, washed my hair and showered. Jeez, I was sticky. Cum had gotten everywhere. It felt good to have the warm spray touch my body, washing off the slimy coating. After drying off, I pulled some PJs out of my suitcase and put them on. When I walked back into the main room, I saw how big a space it was, now almost empty. The gang had left. I saw Steven sitting and talking with one guy, having put some towels over the couch. The guy looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.

"Hey, sweetie, you remember Shane?" Steven said.

It took a moment or two, but suddenly I could think of nothing but Huge Cock and Cum Faucet. He was the guy whose head I could just barely get in my mouth the last time Steven had arranged for me to suck off his friends.

"He was busy before so he just got here. I told him that you were deep throating the guys. He has never had the pleasure." Steven said to me.

I laughed at the statement. "That I can understand," I told them. "He's just too big. Lots of luck ever getting even a blowjob, much less deep throat, Shane."

Shane said, "You know, one of the best sucks I ever had was when you took me into your mouth last time."

"You're so huge. I had trouble just getting my lips around your head. It must be hard when you first go to bed with someone."

"It starts long before that. Every so often I find a nice young lady. Everything goes well for the first couple of dates. The first time I start kissing her and we start touching each other. That's when it happens. That's when I know if she's interested in me or not. If she is, well, that let's her know the potential and what it would mean to be with me."

"You poor thing," I said, kind of kidding, but mostly in sympathy. "My closest friend, Cara, my college roommate, was a small and thin little thing. She was 5'2" and maybe 100, 105 pounds max. But ten of those pound had to be boobs. She had trouble finding clothes, and bras always chafed her, all that breast movement. The staring and ogling was rough for her then too. She handles it better now, but the rude comments still hurt. She's thought about having a breast reduction for years, but doesn't want to go under the knife. It's a much more involved surgery than getting them enhanced. Anyway, my point is that it's hard to be different, especially when it comes to matters of intimacy."

"Yeah, well, I don't have the option of getting a cock reduction," Shane said. "Shit, I don't even want to think about it."

Steven and Shane both looked at me with that now familiar all-I see-is-your-mouth look. I shook my head slowly from side to side.

"Nothing doing. Sorry, Shane, but I'm sore and I know your cock well enough to tell you it just won't work. Plus my face hurts from keeping my mouth open for so long."

"OK, I just thought I'd ask. I was kind of hoping it would work out. I haven't come in the past two weeks, ever since Steve told me you were going to be coming."

"Well, I don't know what to say to that," I replied, thinking about how much he came in Miami and in Seattle. Those were big loads he had poured out of his slit. The idea of watching him come again excited me. But, I was tired from the sexual excitement that I'd had for the last hour or two. And my jaw was sore. How could I survive just opening wide enough to get his head in my mouth? No. It wasn't going to happen. "I'll think about it, maybe tomorrow. But no promises. Got it?"

That pretty much concluded the eventful evening. I climbed into bed and, after he took a shower, Steven joined me. It felt so good to feel his body next to mine. Lying there together was comforting. I wanted to talk about what had happened and what was going on, but my body couldn't stay awake. Within minutes I was sound asleep.
I awoke before Steven and went out for a jog by the water. Working out always helped me to think clearly. I decided that what had happened was not an area worth spending too much time on. The real issue was what I did next. Was this a lifestyle I wanted? Did I really want to be a slut? Not a positive way to ask the question. Better: Did I really want to do slutty things? Having sex with other men, whether it was one other or a hundred, kept me from being grounded in a loving and secure relationship. It meant that I was not in a relationship. I was just fooling around with Steven.

He had certainly found one of my passions, one I didn't know I had.

But then I thought about that. Was this really my passion? Didn't all of this blowjob giving, semen sucking and cum playing come about because of my desire to please him? The more I thought about the chain of events the more sure I became that this wasn't me.

Sure, I enjoyed all of the sex. I had become addicted to pleasing Steven and that manifested itself in all of these outré sexual practices. I had never done these things before. I never wanted to do or even thought about doing these things before I met Steven.

After finishing my run, cooling down and showering, I met Steven downstairs in the restaurant. Over breakfast, Steven and I discussed things. In fact, we discussed things after breakfast, at lunch, and all afternoon.

But when we weren't discussing, I was sucking. In fact, I gave him three blowjobs that day, taking him completely down my throat each time. Regardless of the cause, I had grown to have a passion for giving oral sex. Plus, loading up with ibuprofen made me mostly forget about my sore jaw.

Late in the day, Steven asked about Shane, if I would try to give him a blowjob. The discussion continued as I told him just how wrong that question was in the kind of relationship I wanted with him.

"It makes me into an act, Steven, something you show to other people, but I don't want to be that. Even if my body enjoys doing it, it's not what I am. I'm a woman who wants love. And whatever this, what we have, is it's not that."

He told me that he understood and that he realized that he had become addicted to sex. His fetishes had only been fed by me and my desire to fulfill his desires. He said that he realized that he had gone too far. We then discussed going into therapy together, to try to work things out. Unfortunately, he was against the idea. He thought he could keep his fetishes under control and that we could go back to the loving relationship we had a year ago, in the beginning.

I wasn't sure if he could, but I was glad to hear it. I told him so and we went back up to the room and made love. I was surprised at how passionate it was. After we fucked for at least half an hour I gave him another blowjob, loving our combined tastes.

My body was so excited after giving him that last blowjob, that I surprised myself.

Lying there next to him, thinking about the weekend and everything, Shane's huge cock popped into my brain. "I want to try to suck Shane," I said, still rubbing his soft cock over my lips.

"Let me text him."

Shane was at a bar nearby, but I was pretty beat. We arranged for him to come by in the morning before our flight.

At 7:30 the next morning, I was sitting on a side chair looking at Shane's enormous hard-on with Steven sitting on the couch. It was difficult to get my hand around it. I remembered when watching him play with himself and that he only stroked with two fingers. I couldn't get any fingers to go all the way around. What a monster.

After licking the head for a while, making it wet, and receiving some pre-seminal nectar, I looked up for the first time and said, "So you still haven't come in two weeks?"

He shook his head and said magic words, "Nope. I feel like I'm going to explode. I'm going to cum huge."

"You sweet-talker, you. You know just what to say to make me crazy," I said with a smile.

I returned to the task at hand and, with his head almost dripping with wetness, I tried my jaws to see how far I could open them. They didn't hurt as much so I pulled him closer, all the while trying to encase the head inside my mouth.

Eventually I attained a degree of success. Some of the jaw soreness returned, but I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that I had his cock's head deep inside my mouth, pressing against the back in fact, with a few inches of the shaft in there too.

Shane started to make some kind of indeterminate sounds and that helped move me from my concentration on the physicality of his monster to the thrills of feeling the hard, wet, tasty cock embedded in my mouth. I took both hands and together they encircled his dick, rubbing on the lots of inches of more cock he had outside my mouth. Moving my hands firmly up and down I began to focus my tongue on the part of his cock just below the head. He moaned more and tried to push deeper into me, but there was no way this cock was getting any further into my pharynx.

Because I'd learned to quell my gag reflex pretty well, it actually excited me when he pushed in and out, but it only lasted for a minute or so. Let's face it. He was a twenty-something guy who hadn't come in two plus weeks. My mind began to think about how much he was going to come. Just the thought of his orgasm gave me a little one of my own.

Then we did it. I say we because he was the outie and I was the innie, so to speak. I could feel him begin to shoot hard in the back of my mouth. With each pulse he grunted. I began to do the same. I was getting off on him and his erupting cock. It truly was a magical moment and I was thrilled by it all.

He came for what seemed like ten minutes. I know it couldn't have been, but between his ejaculations and my own body's responses to them, we were locked in this strange embrace for a long, sexy time.

When his shots finally stopped I realized I had cum dripping down my chin. Steven, the dear, had slid the tray onto my lap. Although I didn't want to let any of it go, I didn't worry about what I couldn't contain. Shane was at that point that many guys get where they are too sensitive to have any touch so he pulled out of my mouth. I tried to keep as much of the semen as possible from dripping out.

Now that I had the mouthful of semen, I relaxed my jaws. That was a bit of a relief and allowed me to enjoy the sweet taste and slimy texture of cum, thick, rich, and abundant cum.

He certainly delivered a monumental load and I just sat there, enjoying the taste as it bathed my tongue. I considered doing some cum play with it, but I just wanted to savor the taste and texture for a few more moments and then to swallow it.

I did just that. The gulp that ensued was loud and the feeling of that gooey mass sliding down my throat was extraordinarily hot. I thought that I'd probably been on an orgasmic plateau for the past several minutes. For the moment, all was right with the world. My pussy, my stomach, my tongue, mouth and throat were all quite happy and satisfied. I sat back, remembering the tray with its errant jism.

Again I was struck with its opalescence and its beauty. I was a little zoned out and didn't notice that Steven had been jerking off while watching us. As I was bending forward, bringing the tray up to my mouth, he came again and delivered a good-sized load, his second of the morning, right in front of my face onto the tray.

I needed it. Friday evening reminded me that even though I love cum in general, I prefer it when it's warm and fresh. My brain told me that I had to have the pretty white globs on the tray and slurped them up carefully until all was in my mouth. I made a little cum show, straining it between my teeth and lips. Then I gargled and it created a bunch of bubbles that shortly overflowed my mouth. The cum play itself was fun and somehow gave me even more pleasure.

Eventually I swallowed it all and tried to gather up whatever was still on my cheeks and chin and corral it into my mouth. I swallowed that too.

For a weekend all about reconciling who I was, what I was, what kind of relationship I was in, and what I needed from therapy, I was still a happy camper, or maybe a happy slut. I didn't know. I did know that today I'd had the ejaculate of three orgasms in my mouth, yesterday I'd had four, and the day before that, well, let's just leave it at a nice round 130. And I loved every drop.

Chapter 9: Love and Obsession

The return flight was delayed for an hour. Add in the time zone change from Pacific Standard to Central Standard and we didn't get back home until very late, each of us going to our respective abodes. Exhausted from the sex stuff of the weekend combined with the long return, I could barely wash my face and brush my teeth, before I collapsed in bed.

I had planned to take the next day off and it was a judicious plan. It had been snowing when we landed at O'Hare and by morning Chicago was a mess, still pretty under its blanket of snow, but a headache for those who had to drive or in any way ambulate around or through the city. I slept late and moved about slowly when I did get up. After a luxurious bath, I put on some flannel PJs and made a big pot of coffee. I sat by the window and read the Tribune on my iPad.

Then, in the stillness of my home after I was done with all the online activity I needed, I sat, watching the snow fall past my window, and thought about the weekend, Steven and my life.

Yes, we'd discussed a lot of things on Saturday, but I'd acted like a total slut on Friday night. Then there was Shane and his enormous cock on Sunday morning. And I didn't even think about the four or five blowjobs I'd given Steven. What was going on with me? Was this the real me? It was hard for me to accept it all, but just as hard to do anything about it.

I thought of nothing else all morning, but when I got cabin fever early in the afternoon, I went out to take a yoga class near by. The weather was awful and it was to walk there, but it felt great to enter the studio space. It was warm inside. The air had just a hint of spice. The class was just beginning and only a few people were there.

It gave me a chance to focus on my body, letting go of frustrations, being myself—or at least trying to figure it out.

After class the instructor Janine came up to me and asked how I was. I'd gotten to know her a little over the last few years. Interesting character: She'd been an actress and dancer, then went back to school, got a Masters degree in nursing and was a nurse practitioner for a number of years. Her husband left her for a younger model and in the personal chaos that ensued she became a yoga instructor.

"You looked tense in class today," Janine said.

"Yeah, I am," I told her. "I was traveling most of the day yesterday and I'm trying to get rested up to go back to work tomorrow."

She said that my body looked awfully tight. I told her that my jaw was holding a lot of tension.

"You know, we have several women who have that problem," she said in a knowing manner. "Let me show you some exercises to relax the muscles that run between the back of the mandible and the zygomatic bone."

I had no idea what those things were, but Janine took me back to the desk. There she showed me an image of the muscles that I told her were sore and exercises to do to relieve the soreness. Although we didn't discuss it, I think she had a pretty good idea of what had caused the pains.

Deciding that she would have trouble getting home due to the weather, she decided to close for the day. We walked out together and I waited with her while she locked up. I thanked her for the class and for taking the time to show me the jaw exercises.

Before she left for the L, she looked at me and said, "You know, these exercises will help relax your throat and if you do them regularly, you'll be able to open your jaw wider too."

I didn't know what to say and the look must have been written on my face. She added, "Listen, Patty, I know. I was there. I had a boyfriend in college who wanted nothing but getting deep, if you don't mind me saying. He was a big guy. Yoga helps with all body relaxation, but these exercises will help you to, um, open up. I mean really open wide."

After thanking her I left to go home, still thinking about Janine and the exercises. The walk back in the brisk air and the city draped in snow helped me to get things into perspective.

Although we talked a few times, I didn't see Steven all week. The break was good for me. When we had take-out at his place of Friday evening, I had a good time. After dinner we watched part of a movie, then he paused it.

He got up, went to his computer table—which was messier than usual loaded with a lot of files and reports on it as well as accumulated mail—and cleared everything off it. Then he said, "I want to watch you lick my load up."

"OK, sure," I agreed, walking over to the table and kneeling so I could watch him shoot.

Then changing his mind, he said, "No, Patrice, I want you to deep throat me."

"Yeah, I was going to surprise you with that last weekend, but things went in a different direction, didn't they?"

"What can I say? You wanted it, you know."

I looked at him and suddenly a cloud seemed to dissipate in my brain, like cleaning your eyeglasses. Everything, well, most things in our relationship appeared to come into focus.

"Steven, I enjoyed it, every last hard-on and every last drop of their semen," I told him while I undid his belt. "But it was not what I wanted. What I wanted was to take you deep into my throat and to give you pleasure. In fact, that's what I want right now, too."

I wasn't finished with my thought, but he interrupted saying, "Patty, I haven't come all week, you know, so I've got a big load for you."

"I'm looking forward to that too. I always love it when you come. But, I have my doubts about our future," I hesitated, not wanting to dampen the mood but hoping that we could somehow get on the same page. "You know, as a couple."

"No, you don't. You know what you want. You want me, my dick, and the occasional gang suck with all those guys coming in your mouth," he said, thinking I was making a joke. He got out his cock and rubbed it around my face, then back and forth against my lips. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that.

"Let's do this," I said to him, feeling like an action-adventure hero about to do something dangerous and dramatic.

I opened my mouth and licked him a bit, enjoying the wetness that was already apparent. When I got situated just right, I took him back and pulled him deep, slowly, in a controlled fashion, inch by inch. It felt like he was way down there, but I still had another inch or so.

Bringing his cock out, I licked up the juices and brought him back in again. I repeated this a couple of times. After bringing him in deep again, he pushed a little at first and I held him firmly, keeping his desire to thrust in check. Then I took in more and a little more until my lips were around the base of his cock and my nose flattened against his lower abdomen.

"Oh shit, Patty, that's amazing," he groaned. "I don't know about you but I'm going to come any minute. That's so good. This load's for you, honey. Fuck!"

It felt uncomfortable to keep him way deep inside, but it was also a satisfying feeling. I had worked hard and gagged enough times on those dildos that successfully getting his big cock way down in my throat was rewarding. Plus, sometimes it turned me on when he said those things. This was one of those times.

He started to shove in and out, just a little. I stayed focused on relaxing and just went with it, pushing back against him, getting the whole thing right down to root completely in my mouth. It was difficult, but I could feel that the exercises Janine taught me were helping. I momentarily thought, "Gee, I need to thank her." Then I returned to the current reality of this luscious, but still foreign object in my throat.

A moment later he yelled out some more obscenities and I could feel his cock expand. I knew what that meant and rubbed my thighs together, enjoying the deserved bit of self-stimulation.

"I want to see it," he said and pulled out quickly as he was coming. The fast ejaculation treat and his sudden movement caused me to gag and while I was occupied with getting my body's natural reflexes under control, he continued shooting his cum in and at me. By the time I'd regained my composure, my face was bathed in his cum. I pressed my tongue against his still-shooting head. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed the feeling of it pulsing out on my tongue. It caused me to have a series of little jolts myself.

When he was done ejaculating, I continued to lick him, slurping up as much of the hot cum as I could find on his cock, my chin, my upper lip and the corners of my mouth.

He said, "That was great. Looks like you enjoyed it too. I'm glad you did. I could see you were coming."

"Well, for me it was a bit of small but satisfying shivers. For you it was a cascade of cum. Which of us do you think received more pleasure from this?"

He stared at me with a confused look.

"I was satisfying you, letting you deep throat me, Patrice. You're the one I wanted to please," he said with sincerity.

I was going to call him on it, but decided it wasn't worth it. I did have a good time, but I knew that we were near the relationship's demise. I just wasn't sure how this endgame would play out.

We both got in the shower and then went to bed. There must have been something in our take-out dinner that disagreed with me and I got up in the middle of the night, made a cup of chamomile tea, went in to the living room and watched television for a bit. There was nothing of interest so I looked for something to read.

Steven usually had a slew of magazines on his glass computer desk, but he had cleared it off. He was always reading some business journal. I was sure that would help me get back to sleep. I looked for something in the mess of papers. There I found an open envelope with a stack of one hundred dollar bills, bound with a rubber band. There were a few more loose tens, twenties, and fifties, too. The bills were in a ledger of some sort.

My curiosity piqued, I opened the ledger. There was a page for September and it said Seattle Patrice. The names of the guys who'd come for the sex party were listed with numbers next to each name, the number of times each of them had come. In the next column were dollar amounts. In the rightmost column were the totals.

There was another page dated this past weekend, labeled San Diego Patrice. There were dozens of men's names similarly notated, but with a more complex pricing structure. For the first, it was a nice round number, a third more than Seattle. Each additional one was half off.

It took me a minute to let it sink in. He had been literally pimping me out. I remember I had used the term with him to explain how I felt and he had said it was all to indulge my fantasies. The fact was that after learning that he could make some money off the fantasies he'd convinced me were mine in Seattle, he'd made thousands of dollars from having more guys do the same thing in San Diego. I'd been played, used and abused.

What an asshole he was. A manipulative, self-obsessed, perverted asshole.

What a fool I was.

I sat there quietly thinking about everything for five or ten minutes.

"Idiot," I said softly to no one. Fuck it, I thought. I left the envelope and the ledger and money sitting out on the desk. Then I called for a ride, went back in the bedroom, quietly picked up my clothes, got dressed in the living room, and went home.

Steven kept phoning me all weekend. On Monday at work I investigated if my health plan included mental health and found that it paid for part of some number of visits per year. I called a few therapists and made appointments to interview three of them. Two were women and one was an older man. It was strange, but I thought it would be better to work through this with the guy.
Steven kept calling. I continued to send it to voicemail. He stopped by several times, but I had nothing to say to him. After a few weeks he got the message.

I've been in therapy now for a year and a half. I'm feeling much better. I never told the therapist about all the sordid details, but they really weren't the point.

The point was that Steven was a salesman. You don't get to be a district manager in his company unless you're very good at sales. And he was the best. I bought his product, hook, line and sinker.

It reminds me of the Moor in Shakespeare's Othello who was also exploited by a master of the craft of manipulation. In the last act, after ultimately learning of Iago's deceit, he says about himself "then you must speak of one that loved not wisely but too well."

Steven had me believing that he loved me and he was doing everything he did to please me. I wish I hadn't fallen in love with his pitch, but I did.

Months went by. With a healthier perspective, I started to date a little. After about a year I had sex with one of the guys I met. It wasn't great, but it was nice to be with a man. It had been a long time.

A couple of months ago I met a nice guy, Harry and we've been going out. He's a good person and I have fun with him. The first time we made love it wasn't amazing, but it was good. And it's since improved. Now the sex is up there close to great and it keeps getting better. I'm not addicted to it the way I was with Steven.

One of the best things about him in the sack is his cock. It's really big. Maybe as big as Shane's. The first time I sucked his cock I took him pretty far into my throat. Those exercises were a success.

Harry's sense of humor and playfulness in bed and everywhere gives me joy. He tickles me. When we make love he goes very slowly at first. It almost feels like foreplay. Then when I'm getting comfortable with his erection, he starts to move and I move with him. The orgasms I've had from our lovemaking have surprised me they're so good.

At first, he kidded me about the size of his cock and the tightness of my pussy. He kept making jokes. I laughed so hard I let out a little fart. So embarrassing. I've never done that in my life. We laughed like school kids.

One night I even suggested that we try anal. I'd only done it twice when I was in college and once I got past the whole rear end thing it was incredibly hot. He was shocked. But even with his huge cock, once I was able to relax and he was inside of me it felt pretty amazing. I liked the pressure it put on the whole area. We've done it a few times since and I'm looking forward to doing it again on occasion.

We'd pleased each other orally several times, but I never tried to deep throat him until last night. I went slowly and kept at it until I was able to get him into my throat. He couldn't believe it. And, to tell the truth, neither could I, especially when I slowly pulled him out. It seemed like he was endless. I couldn't keep it down there long but we'll see. I'm looking forward to continuing to develop my technique on him. Much more fun than a dildo. Damn, he is big. He told me that no one has ever tried to do it or even to get much more than the head in her mouth.

I told him a little about my dildos and jaw exercises.

Harry said, "Well, Patrice, ever since I was aware of it as a young man, I knew that it would be a problem with women. So when you first sucked me I was amazed that you could even get the thing in your mouth."

"I have to be honest," I told him. "I was in a perverted relationship a while ago and did things I'm not proud of."

"That's in the past, right? It was heaven feeling and watching you take me down your throat. The determination you brought and the pleasure you seemed to take. I loved it, the amazing feeling on my cock."

"Me too," I told him. "I want us to please each other. Maybe you could let me please you some more in a little bit. I love the way you taste."

With that I playfully grabbed his big dick and rubbed it around my lips.

"You know," he said, "to tell you the truth, I knew with some practice I'd be able to get it down Pat!"

I groaned, but smiled at him.

Later I tried doing it with me lying on my back and my head over the edge of the bed. I found that it was a little easier in that position.

"You know, Harry, this position is easier for me to get you way down. But I fear though, that I could suffocate with your cock in my throat and your balls covering up my nose."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" he said. "If you suffocated I'll never find anyone to deep throat me."

I laughed. I realized that I was content. I was happy. I felt that this man cares about me and I care about him. We have mutual respect. This relationship feels healthy.

Getting away from Steven was the first step in my return to a balanced, satisfying and engaging life. The therapy has helped a lot since then. I feel so much more grounded.

My life as an obsessive, I think and I hope, is in the past. It's not a straight line to getting better, but in a healthy, happy way I am looking to my future.

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Feb 7, 2018 in blowjob

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