You only get to turn twenty-one once.
Uncle Jon always said that day was one of the best of his life. Seeing as he’d gotten discharged from his military service on his actual birthday (in the process escaping Vietnam alive, and he was sure glad about that part, there being all those stories about guys a week away from flying out and then in that last week they step on a landmine and killed or turned into a paraplegic or something), and that meant he could finally buy a beer legally (tell me why the US Army is glad to hire you on when you’re eighteen but in the ol’ freedom-loving USA you cannot buy a fucking drink at that age?) and he felt ‘free as a hog on ice’ as his own father, my grandfather, used to say.
Yessir, twenty-fucking-one, that Jon back then. Still had his army buzz-cut on his birthday, which he said weirded out some of the hippie-chicks when he got home, especially the ones he was hoping to get intimate with, but he said it wasn’t but a bit of time, maybe six months, before he’d have ‘rectified’ the hair situation, and the old family photos proved that, with him bearded and scruffy and his arm around some long-haired beauty with no bra and bushy armpits that looked like fuzzy brown bunny-tails sticking out from her tight top. So for him turning twenty-one was some mighty major momentous threshold, that’s for sure. For him life only got better after twenty-one.
Although I obviously cannot get into the head of Uncle Jon, and the relief that he must’a had when that fabulous confluence of good luck hit him back in 1970, I was feeling pretty darn good about my upcoming threshold on March 31.
All’s I knew was my own scene: my last year at uni, my degree a couple months away, my driver’s license would now work at The Boar for a drink, and I had a sweet girlfriend. The world was my oyster, or whatever the expression is, although I’m not all that fond of oysters myself. But I get it, pearls, salty slippery tastes, wide open opportunities.
But the best part, the absolutely best part, was the girlfriend one.
Speaking of salty slippery tastes and everything…
Mae Lynn Dickerson was the apple of my eye, my pomegranate of perfection, the princess of pleasure, the whipped cream on my hot chocolate, and not only did I not deserve her, but we both knew it. This type of luck just don’t happen to a backwoods Vermonter boy, that’s for real. I didn’t know how long we would last, but I was determined to enjoy every damn moment.
How the hell did an upscale girl from Tennessee (she would say it ‘Tinnessee’ if she’d had more than a two glasses of wine, especially if there was another southerner around) get to U Vermont?
That is one hellava question and I don’t know the real answer, only what Mae said herself.
She said she went as far away from home to college as her Daddy would let her, and since having met him and knowing that he was paying the bills, I am sure he wasn’t too happy about her being way-up-north-almost-in fucking-Canada territory.
At other times (she got this question a lot at those illicit late night keg parties when folks would hear her accent) she answered different. Sometimes she said hearing about ‘Green Mountain Boys’ made her want one of her own (I usually got an elbow in the ribs for emphasis on this one.) Said once that her own Daddy had gone to UT (University of Tennessee for you ignorant of this fact) and she wanted to one up him in the alphabet department (Vermont’s postal code is VT, gettit?) That one got more laughs than it deserved, but that’s the beer talking.
So anyway, I don’t know exactly why she picked UV but I didn’t give a rat’s ass, we were together as a couple and that was just fine.
But talk about a perfect girlfriend, my luck and everything.
Was she perfect? Just about. Her flaws were limited and minor, save one. The minor ones included the fact that I usually couldn’t get her to go without a bra in public, even though she would have looked dynamite and she didn’t have the kind of chest that would be uncomfortable unsupported and everything. Sometimes she could be a bit contrary, you might say headstrong. And the fact that when she made potato salad she’d put in chopped up onions which I would have preferred she didn’t, but she said ‘old family recipe’ and I can understand heritage and all that.
She had a sense of humor, and that dimple on her left cheek could kill. She’s just two fingers shorter than me, I think we make a handsome couple, her hair just a tad lighter than my brown, fine like silk thread, and when my penis is up her I cannot imagine a more perfect union, ha ha.
So a week or two before My Grand Event she starts asking about a suitable birthday present for me.
I say how about we fuck all day long?
She laughs and says that isn’t exactly possible and she knows I couldn’t do it anyway. I point out the time we fucked three times in a day, and she reminded me that it was three times in 18 hours, the third time on the next morning so that didn’t exactly count as one day, and we got into a minor skirmish which I won’t go into at the moment for various reasons. Mostly having to do with her getting the better of me in arguments, which she did a lot, one hellava smart girl there.
Anyway, now we get to her one main flaw, the ‘major’ one I mentioned, and I am not saying it is a dealbreaker, because it obviously isn’t, and it has to do squarely with my specific birthday request.
“How about you let me cream in your mouth? For the first time? You know how much I would crave that, babe.”
Well she give me a look with that sort of disgusted face that goes along with getting a plate of food, say with boiled snails on it, something not that appealing, and then her eyes give a little flicker, out of nowhere.
“Davey,” she says in that way when she is trying to explain something beneath my comprehension, “this is not the first time you have made this request. Do you have any idea what it might be like to have a mouthful of sperm?”
I did not have this exact experience in my portfolio, at least the way she was asking, and told her that.
“Can you imagine it though?” Her eyebrows hit the ceiling while she stared at me pretty hard.
I could kinda do this of course, but considered that beside the point.
I said that if I were a girl and loved someone enough I could imagine doing things that maybe weren’t all that pleasant but might still do them if I knew it would please my partner, expressing my love and everything.
So she’s looking at me hard, and I am positive she is going to ask me what sorts of things I have done for her lately even though she knew I wasn’t that fond of doing them, and so I try to head that off at the pass and offer up some reasoning, some ‘dialectic’ my philosophy prof would call it.
“Babe, I lick you good, all the way. Till your juices are running down my chin, soaking my beard, my nose buried in your cunthairs. I’m just saying that if you wanted to do a super special birthday present for me that doing the same to me as I do for you would be something grand and special and…”
I paused for a moment, trying for the right word, since I am not especially a poetic type, and finished with “ineffable” which I have no idea where I dredged that word from.
She’s looking at me with those big brown eyes and I see those gears turning and she’s getting just the beginning of a smile going, although maybe not the smile I want, but it doesn’t matter since she starts talking.
“Ineffable, eh? So you would really, really like me to suck that cock of yours,” she even points, “not just as foreplay but all the way, to a fluid soaked completion in my sweet warm Tennessee mouth? So that I take your semen in completely?”
“Babe, that would be extraordinary, my fondest wish.”
She looks at me with sorta wild eyes, then away, then back at me.
“Dave, I will consider this.”
Hot damn. Even getting this far was closer to this little letch of mine than we had ever gone before.
Two days later, while I am over at her place, she looks me in the eye.
“Dave? You said you wanted to be sucked to completion?”
I nodded vigorously and said a thousand times yes.
“I been talking to some friends about this.”
What? My eyebrows must have hit the ceiling and my face registered World War III panic. So now my request to be sucked off is all over the neighborhood? Everyone knows what a pathetic little lover I am to be begging his girlfriend to let him finish in her mouth?
“No, no, not that. I just been asking a couple friends, totally confidential, more really about what it is like to have sperm in the mouth.”
She said this phrase like she was talking about gargling a snot milkshake.
“So what did you hear, babe?” Maybe somebody said something encouraging, like maybe her best friend Julia had said ‘Oh, I just absolutely adore sucking Stephen off all the way. He loves it!’
But that didn’t seem to be the case. Couple folks had said ‘it’s not as bad as you think.’
“But it’s funny, you know,” I thought I detected some possible cause of optimism in her tone. “The folks who really get excited about it are gay guys.”
Jesus, here she goes again, this woman never stops surprising me. She had at least two gay friends on campus and she’s pumping them for intel?
“Mae, so is this little request of mine going all around college?”
No again. Said she didn’t actually talk to any of her real gay friends, just noodled around online in a couple forums and websites. Learned a thing or two about cocksucking from the crew who does it a lot, and the ‘sperm in the mouth’ thing.
“So cocksucking all the way is just a gay thing? Come on Mae, girls are into this too, I know this myself anecdotally, general knowledge and such.”
“Yeah, but with regard to the sperm-in-the-mouth thing,” (I was already getting tired of this particular phrase), “I’ve found more, ah, enthusiasm on gay discussions of this specific practice than amongst the women. That’s all. And I figured I’d learn a thing or two.”
“Well, learning is never a bad thing, I reckon you and I have learned some things together.” This was true enough.
She twirled a stray piece of hair, then looked at me. “So I think this might be possible. This sperm in the mouth thing.”
She closed her eyes, compressed her lips a little and said, “I will give this wish to you.”
I almost got down on my knees in front of her, like guys do when proposing marriage, and thanked her and told her that this was what love was like and how I was so honored and appreciative of her willingness to do something that was not necessarily her own number one wish but that she was doing it for me, and how grand a gesture it was, “noble” I even said.
And she smiled that beautiful smile of hers, just a little gap between her front teeth, and already my mind is going into overdrive and imagining my handsome tool wedged tight in that lovely mouth of hers and how nice it will be to be pushing my shaft along those lips and being able to send my sperm forth completely without holding back.
And, naturally, I was so excited that I went and pushed my luck farther than it maybe should have gone and said something about maybe doing an “early” birthday present, and there is no time like the present, and now is always better than later, and all that.
She laughed and put her hand on my knee.
“No, not early. I want you thinking about this for the next week. You know how things you are anticipating are so much more fun? Like Christmas coming when you are a kid? I really want you to enjoy this, so can’t happen until the day.”
She considered a moment. “Actually, not your official day, since the 31st is a Friday, but the day after.”
I was still beside myself.
“So you are saying, Mae Lynn Dickerson, that you will suck me completely, as a special birthday present, this coming Saturday?”
“I promise your sperm will be drained to the last drop.” I would remember these exact words later. The smile on my face maybe would belong in one of those renaissance paintings in the museums, ‘beatitude’ or something being the caption.
I am not afraid to say the next week was one of unbearable excitement.
I could literally not sit still. Nor my prick, if you really want to know. Every time I had a spare moment (and there are plenty of those if you are in, say, a statistics class lecture and the prof has gone off on some stupid tangent.) I found myself imagining what it would feel like to be erupting a good load of sperm into Mae’s sweet mouth. And once you have done something the first time, you can do it again, and my mind filled up with the idea of regular semen divestiture events, courtesy of this very special and handsome girlfriend of mine and how fortune has smiled on me in a way for which I was totally unworthy.
I was chuffed, I think that’s what the Brits say.
So it’s Friday night, March 31 in bed, and I am hot to trot with sweet Mae. We’d gone out to our favorite Italian restaurant, had a nice meal and dessert even and I was thrilled to have her make a fuss over my birthday. I even was able to pull out my ID for real so we could have a bottle of wine together. She was a couple months older than me, so already could do the legal alcohol thing, so I had been the impediment at bars and restaurants until now, but that was all over.
I want to make love to her when we get back to my place but she says no.
“I am stuffed Dave, and you know that is never the best time for lovemaking. Besides I want you good and worked up for tomorrow.”
My pleadings went for naught, reminding her of how it was absolutely no problem to dump plenty of semen inside her regardless, and her sheer handsomeness and attractivity quotient was so high that there was a near endless (pretty sure I emphasized that word) supply of semen for my fondest human being in the world.
Anyway, she won out as usual, as any of you guys know if you have stubborn or smart girlfriends, and I went to bed with an erection, the only thing sating me was the thought that the next day was going to be something special. At least she kissed me goodnight with a “happy birthday Dave” on her lips.
So the big day arrives and I am hot to trot, my early morning erection hoping for birthday wishes. I express a willingness to commence but am rebuffed.
“No silly. Not yet. I have plans for you, but they will play out as the day goes on.”
I am asking about her plans and it turns out they involve a few more details than I expected.
First of all it involves going over to her friend Cooper’s house. Mae says Cooper is away for the weekend and we will not only be ‘house-sitting’ there (it was a gorgeous upscale place, beyond normal student lodging status, with a view of Lake Champlain, nice furniture, all of that) and feeding Cooper’s cat ‘Zeitgeist’ but will have extraordinary privacy the whole weekend in a way not possible in our own on-campus housing with apartment mates coming and going, all of that.
So we can indulge all weekend long. She gives me this long wanton look and I am sure my tongue is hanging out.
“But,” she says. Always a but.
“But what?”
“Since I am giving you your birthday wish, you have to let me do it the way I want.”
So now there are strings attached? Or some hedging on this promise? I point this out to her about her promise, her word, and everything and she reassures me that my handsome anxious cock will get thoroughly discharged into a warm waiting mouth, but that since this is a first for both of us that it has to be handled in a special way.
Okay, I am fine with this.
We pack our weekend bags and head over to Cooper’s house.
Now this Cooper girl, I have to tell you something about her. She is a high-roller, from Chicago, rich and handsome and status-infused enough to pretty much have any boy she wants at UV. I am not that fond of her personally, and she and Mae are slight friends, but not super-tight, so she wasn’t in our scene enough to be hard to deal with.
Rich, high-end types are unusual at UV, and Cooper (she had the nickname ‘Kinky Cooper’) had let it be known that Daddy had more than once delivered her on his small private jet to the tiny Burlington airport, so that put her in not just the one-percent category at UV but maybe the zero-point-five percent along with the senators’ and judges’ sons, and she oozed sex and power and attractiveness, which put me off a little, I guess you would say.
Anyway, nice place for sure, and I wander about the three (three!) rooms this girl had to herself as off-campus housing. I put my bag down while Mae explores, and she calls me in to the master bedroom, huge bed-frame, mirrors on the walls, etc.
“This is why I am so glad to have this place as the site of your ‘special birthday.'”
The room has two closets, one filled with clothes and shoes and girl detritus, but the other fairly empty one that Mae is showing me, well…
I took in a breath.
Tall, pocket door, hardwood floor, but with a bizarre kind of special wooden rack that Kinky Cooper has apparently installed on the back wall. A couple pegs on a side wall are holding a whip, a blindfold, and some hand restraints. I whistled.
“Jesus, Mae, is this the sort of thing Cooper is into? I’ve heard some rumors and everything, but still…” My imagination went a bit wild.
Mae was grinning like a banshee. “How bout it, huh? Do you think Cooper is the one who likes to be tied up and flogged? Or the other way around?”
This was not a difficult opinion for me to voice, and I told her I knew exactly which position Cooper assumed. I imagined her with some knee-high boots and jodhpurs maybe, topless, nothing else but a whip in her hand while some blindfolded UV stud with big shoulders was getting worked over. I shuddered.
We retreated to the living room and sat on the couch with a view out over the lake. I cozied up and put my arm around sweet Mae.
“You dying for your special present?” she says, eyebrows raised, bit of a smirk on her face.
“You bet, babe. Any time your little heart desires.” Damn this was hot.
“Let’s have something light to eat for lunch first. But I have to remind you, we’re doing it my way or not at all, okay?”
This part was getting on my nerves a little.
“What do you mean, your ‘way?’ How many different ways does it take to suck an anxious penis to culmination?”
“Well, just that as I am the one who will undertaking the onerous part…” Wish she hadn’t accentuated the ‘onerous’ word, it was sounding more and more like she was granting a super-divine wish or something.
“I have to take steps to make sure I am comfortable and everything. Surely you can understand that?”
She had put a hand to my crotch a minute or so before, and it hadn’t taken but a little pushing along with our anticipatory discussion for things to start to develop down there.
Of course I would have promised her anything at that point and almost did.
“Sure babe, that’s fine. But it’s like it’s Christmas eve and the waiting part, you know…”
A little kiss. “Of course Davey, I know how hard it is to wait.” Then laughed at the adjective she had just used as it applied to the insistent bit in my pants too.
We found some nice French cheese in the fridge, made ourselves sandwiches with some high-end mustard and a couple rolls out of the bread basket.
I was looking at Mae the whole time, trying to keep the drool in my mouth from overflowing. She had on a tight sweater made of that tightly woven soft wool stuff and I could see her nipples moving around underneath, a rare no-bra event today, a splendid look. She had to be wearing this just for me.
Cooper had the thermostat set fairly high compared to normal Vermont winter standards, so the place was warm and comfy.
After lunch Mae, with an absolutely deviant grin, placed me on the couch, told me to stay put. I sprawled out, put my head back, we were doing to do the deed on Cooper’s nice couch? Fine by me.
She went out of the room and came back up behind me, slipped a blindfold over my eyes, she must have nicked it from the ‘special closet’ supplies.
“Hey! I would sorta like to see this whole business, you know, Mae. Presents are fun to look at as well as receive, part of the pleasure and everything.”
“Sure,” she murmured, “but let’s do it this way, the first time anyway.”
All right. She said ‘first time’ which meant she was serious, there were going to be ‘second times’ and that meant more. The future was looking real bright.
After the blindfold was in place to her satisfaction, she knelt in front of me, and pulled off shoes, socks, my trousers, then my drawers. All of this, along with my racing mind, was all it took so that by the time the undies were off, my penis was one good hard piece of excitement.
She seemed mighty pleased.
I felt her lick my unit from bottom to top, flicking her tongue at the tip like it was the top of an ice cream cone.
I melted like one too, on a hot summer day.
“If I didn’t have this silly eyewear on, babe, I would want you to have your sweater off, and see that lovely chest of yours.”
She laughed at this and I heard her removing clothing. She nestled up in front of me and draped one nipple, then another, in my mouth. I could feel her breasts’ heat and softness and reached around for some chest fondling.
She laughed again and let me grope her a bit while she fiddled with my unit.
We were getting heated up, or at least me, and my mind was doing wonderful imagining things about what was coming. But suddenly she left off and took me by the hand.
“This way,” she said, low voice, alluring.
She led me carefully, I had to trust her sight and care in following, into what seemed from my limited spatial memory to be Connor’s bedroom. So it was going to be the bed after all, not the couch, to do the fine deed?
But I was wrong. She took me to the side, into the closet thing, raised each arm of mine and fastened wrists into the rack thing on the back wall. I was splayed out, hands up and to the side, my penis poking straight forward.
“What you doing, Mae? Not sure this is part of the plan and everything.”
“Oh yes, it is part of the plan, silly.”
She stood back, maybe to take in the sight of me hitched up to this silly rack thing in the closet, barefoot and my erection sticking out into the air.
“Ha!” she said and gave me a little fondle til my rod was aching hard, quivering to every touch, then stood back again.
“You gonna do me now, Mae? You can see I am dying…”
“Oh yes, you sure are. But you know how nice it is when you keep an erection a long time? How much more sperm there is when your penis is prolonged? How the explosion multiplies?”
I confessed I quite knew this deal, but that at some point you need to let the beast loose and seemed to me this would be a good time, birthday and all.
She stepped away for a few minutes, no idea what she was up to other than torturing me, to tell you the truth.
She comes back, sounds like she puts something on the floor in front of me, towel judging by the feel of it next to my toes.
She kneels in front of me, towel must be knee padding, and gives a little soft tongue lick to my unit and I put my head back. This is more like it.
Soft little licks, up and down my shaft, under my balls, a drawn out lick up along my sperm tube to the top of me.
This was the divinity worship I craved. ‘Heaven in a closet’ was the thought I was having.
Took my whole cock head into her mouth, gave me the most lovely little going over. Again I am getting to the dying point, my hips pushing into her as best they could, balls drawn up like a pair of pit pulls on their leashes, ready for the Big Pounce.
Then the doorbell rings. Jesus H, what the hell is this?
She gives me a last little lick and retreats. I hear the front door opening, a low conversation, and she comes back to he closet. With someone else.
I feel my body tighten. “Mae? What’s going on here? We got company sounds like?”
“Yes, Davey. Got a friend here, not sure you know him but this seemed like such a special birthday present there ought to be someone else here, a witness maybe.”
‘Him?’ I of course have no idea how to react to this, and am starting to get a queasy feeling in my stomach. Leading up to this day I had more than one little dream going about how this great experience was going to play out but none of them involved anyone else, let alone being tied up and blindfolded. And who was this person? A guy even? The little conversation I had heard in the other room, which they had been careful to keep low, made it clear that this was indeed a male friend, the whispered voice was not in girl frequency range.
“Mae, I am not sure this is a good idea.” I was aware how stupid this sounded, but like what was I going to do? I had already pulled on my restraints a bit, both initially to test them but also in the various writhing movements I had been making while Mae was working me with her mouth. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Mae’s laugh was that long, silvery one I normally enjoyed hearing, but not this time.
“It’s a fine idea Davey. You still want your penis sucked all the way?”
“Sure Mae, but…”
“It’s a one time offer,” (I didn’t like the sound of this) “and you had agreed I could do it the way I wanted.”
“Sure babe, but maybe not this exact way? You never said anything about company and tying me up and all that.”
It sure sounded like this other person snorted, a male snort, although I noticed he was careful not to speak.
There was some action going on to one side, they were doing something together, then I sensed Mae kneeling again, in front of me, her fingers holding my balls. I would recognize those fingers anywhere, the way her long nails would run across my drawn up scrotum, caress those balls of mine so ready to offer up their juices.
Mouth over my cock-head, some wet slithering, and things, whether the rest of it mattered or not, started to get going again. Long licks, sweet sucklings, she would leave off every so often and I felt the room’s air on my bare, wet cock skin. I twitched.
Then the other body is kneeling too, they must be side by side.
“Mae? What’s this bit?” I am nervous again.
“Just for a good look Davey, up close and personal. A witness to the act.”
And a mouth on me again, lovely. I still feel Mae’s fingers, those unmistakable nails pulling on my nuts, rubbing my perineum.
And things are starting to progress here in the arousal department, for sure.
Every little lick and suck is making me quiver. My legs are stiff as a board, my hands pulling on the restraints, I get the thought that my excited thrashings might pull the rack off the wall. My anus is contracting, my hips pushing into her, all the bowling pins being lined up for a massive one-roll strike.
And for the first time ever in our time together, I had no worries about whether I need to be careful to decouple before the finish, not about self-control, pulling my penis out of her mouth before things got delicate, any of that. I am ready to forgive Mae for all the weirdness of the scene, even that my wrists are a bit sore, my arms aching, but in truth I am not even aware of them at the moment.
Lips over my cock-head now, sweet little tongue movements all around that edge. I am feeling sperm reaching the crisis point, the boiler down below just about ready to explode.
A few more sweet sucks on just my cock-head, fingers working my balls, and my ass squeezes shut and I send the first blast of sperm into Mae’s wet waiting mouth. She holds still and my ass clenches another four times. I am Mt. Vesuvius, the Amazon emptying into the Atlantic, Robin Hood hitting a bullseye on the target. All that sweet viscous fluid going straight into Mae’s mouth.
Blam, blam, blam, one rush of semen after the other, Mae’s fingernails stroking my perineum. Heaven has arrived. If a heart attack struck me down now I would die happy.
She nurses at my cock after the last one, and I feel her slobbery lips working my shaft, lips along my cock-head, which shrinks amazingly fast (the speed of depletion in me is almost always in direct proportion to the intensity of the climax) and grows uncomfortably sensitive now that the payload has deployed.
Deployed. Into sweet Mae’s mouth. That enchanting thought spun through my head like some sort of out-of-control propeller.
Finally she disengages, I feel the air of the room on my ultra-sensitive prick and I am aware of her standing up next to me. But at the same time a tongue starts playing with the tip of my penis again, and a set of lips goes back around my cock. What?
Mae removes my blindfold and I see two things at the nearly the exact same time.
A huge face-wide smirk on Mae’s face right next to mine, and Ricardo, one of her gay friends, with his lips around my cock, eyes closed, for all intents and purposes trying to extract the last drop of my sperm from my unit.
I do not think my emotional world has ever done the sort of one hundred and eighty degree U-turn as it did just then.
“Mae!” I croak. “Mae! How could you? You promised..”, I am stammering with frustration at this point, as the reality of the situation settles in.
She set this whole thing up so her buddy Ricardo would drain my balls? My sperm going into some faggot’s mouth instead of hers? The sheer cruelty and devious malice she had displayed was making my whole body shake with anger.
“You promised to suck me off, Mae! I cannot believe you pulled this … this stunt on me!”
My whole body quivered.
Mae, to add to my monumental irritation, is still smiling like the Cheshire cat, and reaches under my balls with one hand. The same fingernails, which she had held there to deceive me, make me think she was doing the deed while this pervert was tonguing my most sacred unit of pleasure.
But Mae is still smiling and points to the side wall of the closet.
There is a calendar on the wall, it either wasn’t there before or I didn’t notice it.
It shows the new month, April, and the first day, number One, has a big red sharpie circle drawn around it.
April First. April Fool’s. And I just got pranked in absolutely the worst, most despicable way possible, betrayed by the woman who I thought cared for me.
“Davey, relax. It is all a joke, that’s all. I actually sucked you off, not Ricardo,” who looks up at my face at the moment, giving me the creeps while my cock is still in his mouth, my shaft now completely limp.
“Ricardo just volunteered his mouth here at the end, to give you a fright.”
“It was a blast,” she says, unable to restrain herself, laughing, maybe aware of her inadvertent double-entente, and giving me an unpleasant nudge in the ribs with her elbow.
My eyes are wide open, I cannot tell you how I am reacting but it is crazy.
“You… you sucked me, Mae? Tell me that’s the truth? I don’t…”
“Here, I’ll prove it Davey.”
She kisses me. One of those deep mouth, tongue probing ones that are so sweet.
And she is tasting of sperm. Unquestionable. My sperm.
My stomach stops churning and we kiss.
Now if you had told me earlier that I would be enjoying a little sperm-breath kiss from my Mae after getting sucked off, I would have told you to jump in the lake.
But today, right now, with Mae’s proof in my mouth, it was just fine.
Even then however, I was starting to think that if we were still together as a couple this time next year, that there would be revenge of the most dastardly sort.
“Let’s get me out of these things, Mae,” was what I said however, waving my wrists around in their restraints.