Adventures Unfinished Ch. 01

Concerned that I was maybe having a better time than Mace, I pulled his cock out of my mouth and let the head rest on my lower lip as my tongue continued to lick at it. I asked him how he was doing and he just groaned a little. Then he reached down to touch my breasts. The feeling was electric. I suddenly had to have him play with them.

I was only wearing a light sweater over a tee, but he was able to reach under my tops and my bra. When I felt his fingers on my nipples, it was like the Fourth of July. Between the hard cock on my lips and his touch on my breasts I went off. I had an orgasm right there and then.

Fortunately, I was able to get back to what I was doing quickly enough that he hadn't lost any momentum. Then I refocused on the reason we were there suddenly and I wanted to taste his cum. It amazed me how quickly I went from "Jeez, that feels good," to "Gotta have it now."

The hand that was on the base of his cock drew him into my mouth, to the back. I took a quick look up into his eyes and returned to the task at hand.

I continued to pull him deeper into my mouth until he was pressing my tongue down and the head slipped into my throat. I heard Mace make a loud grunt and push himself as deeply as he could into me.

It's always a sexy feeling for me, knowing that I can make a man feel that good. But Mace was a special person who deserved to feel better than just good. With all of his difficulties and heartaches, I wanted to make them all go away, at least for a brief moment.

Moving my head forward, putting a little more pressure on his pelvic bone and then backing off just a smidge and repeating the process always got men just about ready to shoot their loads. For some men it did the trick, just once or twice, others more. I think it's the combination of the pressure of the throat on the head and the pressure of the mouth on the base. But who knows?

At this point Mace was almost twisting my nipples. It felt hot, sexy and bordered on just a little bit of pain, but I didn't think he was even conscious of what his hand was doing.

After several minutes of more pressure-and-release combinations, shoulders and neck began to get sore, but I wanted, no, needed him to come. Eventually I felt he was ready to shoot. I knew I was more than ready for him to shoot. I was pretty sure he would have loved shooting exactly where he was, but I was also aware of the purpose of this blowjob. Hence, the last thing I wanted was for him to shoot down my throat.

I slowly pulled him out and tightly wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, all the while firmly rubbing the underside of it with my tongue. I moved my hand back and forth a few times and that was all she wrote. (I never understood that phrase, but it seemed appropriate.)

The head grew bigger and a surge forced some more pre-cum into my mouth. That was the fast warm-up act. Then came the main attraction: He came hard. I could feel his first few shots hitting my tongue and upper palate. Then there was my old, familiar oral love affair with cum. It seemed like with each shot, I had these little early warning temblors. Then, when his ejaculation began to diminish, I had this huge reaction to the full, rich taste of cum washing around my mouth.

That did it for me. I was still holding his cock tightly with one hand and was pressing my other hand up under his balls. I always liked the feel of the muscle there as its cock was shooting.

Briefly I questioned why my body didn't have this reaction to Lucien's hard-on this morning. Then I returned to feeling the delicious cum in my mouth.

By now he'd finished coming and my orgasms were on the wane. After a minute or two I carefully let his cock, now almost soft, slip from my mouth, making sure to retain all the cum. Swallowing it would have to wait.

The two of us were now all business as he extricated his hand from my top. He pulled up his pants as I arranged my bra and my shirt, making sure that everything was mostly where it was supposed to be. Boobs will be boobs and they often complain if they're not in the right place. That damn Caresse Crosby (nee Mary Phelps Jacob) should have been at least as concerned with a woman's comfort as with a woman's wobble.

Pardon me. I'm getting off the subject. (By the way, more than a hundred years ago Crosby patented the first bra design that's like contemporary bras.)

Mace sat back down and picked up the gadget. He took one of the empty capsules and put it in its place. Then he closed the lid. Next, I took one of the little straws and put it in the hole that you could use to inject the saliva-laced semen. I looked at him and smiled.

"Well," he said, "here we go. You are an amazing young woman. Thank you for doing this."

I wanted to respond to him but I had a reasonably sized mouthful of semen. So I picked up le truc, put my lips to the little straw and forced some of the mouthful into it. I was surprised at how small an amount it took. It couldn't have been more than a few drops. Pulling my mouth off I made a gesture and grunted "Is that enough?"

Mace seemed to know what I meant and said, "I guess that's it. Let me get some water and I'll take my first pill." He walked two or three steps over to the sink and took a paper cup, filled it with water and returned. As he did so I pressed the lever and, deciding it was time, I opened the thing. There was a small capsule that was apparently the whole deal.

He picked it up, swallowed it was the water. I smiled at him and opened my mouth, showing him the white load of his cum bathing my tongue. I really wanted to swallow it, but I thought about checking first.

So I reached for his now-empty paper cup, brought it up to my mouth and let the load slide down my lip and into the cup.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"I think I just had an amazing blowjob from a beautiful woman who gives the best blowjobs in the world."

"Do you think that's it?"

"I guess so," he replied.

"OK then, more for me."

And with that I unceremoniously took the cup to my lips, let the tasty viscous fluid drain into my mouth and had a brief and unexpected little climax. Once it died down, I swallowed the entire mass and sat back with a feeling of delight and relaxation.

Mace leaned over and kissed me with such passion it surprised me. He put his arms around me and my body responded just the way you see in the movies. I put one hand behind his head and the other around his back.

We continued to kiss for a pleasant little while. I knew it was more than just a few seconds because I was getting aroused anew and before I knew it both of my hands were in his crotch again, playing with his equipment. He, too, had returned to one hand to my breast, kneading it, putting pressure on its bra-encased firmness.

Yes, definitely getting aroused all over again.

But I returned to my concern for Mace. I knew I was good, but no fifty-something guy that I've ever known could get an erection just a minute or two after having climaxed.

Fortunately, I wasn't expecting a repeat performance. It just felt good to be intimate with him again.

As my mind considered it, I was pleasantly reminded that he was a man with a performance problem. Wow, I thought, what would this guy have been like when he was twenty or thirty years younger, before this issue?

Never mind that. He'd just had three orgasms in the last twelve hours. Not bad even for a younger man, but for a fifty-something with performance issues...

Well, maybe I really was that good!

Counting his orgasms reminded me briefly of Lucien and the detour of that morning. I thought of his cum as a sort of palate cleanser between the second and third courses of Mace that day.

We heard a knock at the door and he quickly put his equipment away, getting zipped up in no time.

Dr. Berlemi's assistant asked if there were any questions or concerns and Mace simply said that everything appeared to be understood and working fine. I just smiled as a hint of the tingly taste of cum lingered on my tongue.

As we left the office I thanked Mace for his panegyric: a beautiful woman who gives the best blowjobs in the world. What a nice thing to hear.

Part 5

By the time I finished relating that visit to the doctor's lab, Maya and I were slowly driving up my new driveway around the side of my new house. The drive wandered around to the side where the garage doors were. As Maya was searching for a remote that might open the door I noticed that the driveway continued past the house. The thought of what else might be on this property and how large it might be gave me a complex feeling.

Was I now one of the ten percent?

Less than 24 hours ago, I was a person just trying to make ends meet, looking for sales on shoes each month and hoping that at some point I might be able to set aside some money for my retirement. How did I suddenly go from that to someone worth tens of millions? I began to do some of the math in my head and I was staggered by the figures.

Maya said something about the garage opener already programmed into the car as I was stirred out of my mental gymnastics. We both looked for the right button and finally located it above us. Suddenly the lights came on and all three double width garage doors opened.

We were again surprised by what we saw. There were three additional vehicles as well as a trailer in the some of the parking spots. All looked shiny and new. I slowly pulled the Lamborghini in and shut it off. There was a sudden peace and quiet and serenity that I welcomed after turning off the engine. On the other hand, I missed the car's excitement, an excitement that had just vanished from my head to my toes and especially in my groin. Ah well.

Upon closer inspection we found that one of the cars was a three hundred thousand dollar 6.0 liter, 12 cylinder, 600 horsepower red Bentley SUV. (I didn't know Bentley even made SUVs.) Another was an all-electric Tesla with all-wheel drive. It might even have been only around $100K, maybe even less!

The last vehicle was a hybrid sedan, a regular car. I knew that was the one I'd be driving. Most days, at least.

And finally there was a flatbed trailer that looked like it was for hooking up to the Bentley and hauling the Lamborghini places. There was a black car cover made of some strange hi-tech, almost rubbery material. Mace had always had uncanny insight into the way my odd brain worked. Clearly he'd assume I'd want to drive the car to racetracks. We never talked about it, but he knew me.

Surveying the whole garage area I realized there were a dozen parking spots if you put two vehicles in tandem. The whole scene just reminded me of the scale of the house.

After closing the doors we made out way in silence to the kitchen and for the first time I noticed that, in addition to the fully stocked wine refrigerator, the cabinets, the full-height refrigerator next to the full-height freezer were fully stocked. There were even fresh vegetables, fruit and some fresh prepared dishes in the fridge.

For a moment I hopefully thought that Mace might even be here in town, but I knew him well enough: He would have loved showing me around himself if he were. He had obviously hired people to arrange all of this.

Maya and I just looked at one another in amazement. After a few moments of gawking at the kitchen, Maya found a half-bottle of French Sauterne that probably cost as much as the two thousand dollar bottle of Burgundy we'd had earlier. She opened it and got glasses as I plopped down on a comfortable sofa in the family room.

Once settled and with another toast to the missing man, Maya looked in a drawer on the center coffee table and found a preprogrammed universal remote. She hit a button and we were surrounded by an orchestra playing a Mozart piano concerto.

She lowered the volume and said to me.

"OK. Now that we're here and settled in for the night - I assume you're inviting me to spend the night here in your new home - you need to start talking. What was it like? What was he like? Did it work? Why did he leave?"

I took a deep breath as well as another sip of the extraordinary sweet and balanced dessert Bordeaux. I explained that I had actually kept a journal of every day. I hadn't looked at it since he left, but I remembered quite a few wonderful experiences.

At that moment I received a text from a number I didn't recognize. It read:

P. Whatever your mother tells you, she's crazy. It's going to be lovely. See you next month. And I can be flexible on the toast. Love, A

Curious, Maya peeked at the text.

"What is that about? Who's A?" she said.

"It's my grandmother Alicia."

"You know, you've never mentioned anything about your family. Are you close? You can't be or you'd have told me at least something about them."

"Never knew my dad. I have some kind of communication with my mother and grandmother every few years," I told her.

"Are you kidding me? Why? What's that about?"

Boy, talk about opening a can of worms. I was hesitant enough to discuss the details of the time Mace and I spent together. Now she was asking about my mother and grandmother, both crazy.

"Maya, after Zara my great grandmother died right around when I graduated college my mother and grandmother had a huge disagreement. I tried to broker some sort of truce because we were a tight group when I was growing up. But this fight was apparently down at the level of dogma. Neither one could see the other's point. I never really knew what it was about, but each one was absolutely intransigent in her position. I don't think they've spoken since then. Well, until this."

She asked me to tell her more about my family. When she saw me shake my head she returned to her line of questioning about Mace.

"I don't mean to keep you in suspense, but let's leave it until tomorrow morning. I can't even think straight right now. I'm picturing that big comfy-looking bed that we saw when we were wandering around upstairs. Given the preposterous luxury of all of Mace's generosity, I'm sure it has outrageously soft, smooth and sensuous sheets."

"OK. At least tell me about what happened with Lucien and his teammates. I know that when I get serious with a man and we start to get intimate, you know, just kissing and petting, there's a certain moment when you let him know what you want, that you want to make love with him. Then we usually go to the bedroom and get undressed. It's pretty straightforward at that point. But how do you start with a group of guys?"

"What you described is the same for most women I think. But it's not at all that way with a group of guys who know what I want. You simply need to consider what they want to do. At least when they know it's just my mouth. When I've had group blowjobs with a group of guys they were always respectful. At first, at least: Once they start nearing their climaxes there's usually a little pushing and shoving. None of them usually wants to miss the target." I pointed to my mouth. "Plus, they're all at least naked below the waist so none of them wants to have any contact with another. Afraid they'll get cooties - or become gay! And heaven forbid if one gets cum on another!

"But it always amazed me how creative guys are. Too much porn probably. When I think about all the things I was asked to do with cum some of it seems so silly. But to see the expression on some of these guy's faces. It's like I'm the real life embodiment of their fantasies. I'm not knocking them. They're so visual. Plus I had fun doing it. Big Os and all.

"And you've seen that porn with the woman drinking cum? At first I didn't get it. But when Steven got excited and told me what turned him on, after a while it actually started to turn me on too.

"You know, I spent some time, at the beginning learning how to play with cum and practicing in the mirror. That probably sounds weird. But I found that just showing it to a guy or guys isn't enough. They want you to slurp it, drool it, drink it, gargle it, and lick it up. Then they want you to do it again and again. It was all fun and kind of hot though.

"I put my foot down when it came to food. I mean showing it. It was fun to try cum with a lot of different types of foods, but once it was in my mouth it was going down. No displaying food, cum-covered or not, after chewing commenced. And, you know, there are some foods that go pretty well with it."

Suddenly the magnitude of my wanton ways hit me (again). I'd become so good at bringing myself as well as many men to orgasm. But the question was: So what?

Now again, all those fears and concerns flooded back. How was I going to have a future? Now that I was a wealthy woman, now what? It used to be that I never knew if a man wanted me for me or for my body. Then I asked myself if a man wanted me because he'd heard that I love giving head. But now there was suddenly an even bigger question: If a man asked me on a date would it be because of my wealth?

Ruminating upon the ramifications of my preferred sexual practices, my boobs and general issues about my past, present and future, I returned to what Maya was saying.

"... to hear more about this. You make it sound like it's a really fun experience. It's not intimacy at all. It sounds like it's just playing and having fun with a guy's erection and his semen."

Talk about putting things in perspective. But was it wrong? Could I have a normal life that included this kind of activity? A voice deep inside me hinted at no.

"I just don't think I could climax like that," Maya continued. "Now, maybe if someone were going down on me, then it might be a kick just to have fun with a cock - or even two or three. They are kind of like play things. But a roomful! O - M - G. It just seems so over-the-top."

Still trying to get a handle my emotional state I said, "Listen, Maya, I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow morning I'll be more awake and I'll tell you everything. Not tonight, OK?"

She completely disregarded my plea.

"You know, Patrice, I can't believe how just listening to your stories has gotten me turned on. I want to hear more. In fact, it would be nice if you finished one or two of them. You're not going to leave me hanging out here, are you? Just tell me if Mace's treatment worked. Please!"

"Listen, Maya, we'll both be here in the morning. We'll make some breakfast or we'll pick a car and go out to eat. I'll tell you in the morning. Or I'll tell you some of it at least."

In response, she just said one pleading word, "Please." It had at least two syllables and sounded more like plee-eez.

I looked at her, paused and took a deep breath.

"You sense my reluctance, right?" She nodded. "It's because I went overboard, way overboard from when I bumped in Steven until I left Chicago. I was back into therapy, trying to work on my sex addiction, but then there were these parties almost every weekend. And sometimes during the week too."

She looked at me and said, "Really? That often? Just a roomful of hard-ons and you?"

"Maya, as I said before I have no idea how many blowjobs I have given, but in that period of time..." I did some rough math in my head "...maybe six months, I must have given hundreds of blowjobs." Maya's jaw dropped. "Maybe a thousand, give or take. You think I want to recall all of that stuff. I'm embarrassed just remembering it all and saying that out loud."

Suddenly my body was physically doing the mixed message thing: I began to get excited thinking about all of those parties, but I also started to cry a little. I was one confused lady.

Maya got up and gave me a hug and told me she understood. We both sat back down and enjoyed a little more Sauterne.

She thought for a moment. Then, obviously she couldn't help herself.

"Doesn't it hurt keeping your mouth open for so long?" she said. "How do you do that? Does your throat get sore? What was Steven doing while all this was going on? Did he go to these parties? Who were all these guys? Did you ever run into one on the street? That'd be embarrassing. At the very least."