Couples Therapy Vol. 03

The cock was right in front of me, and I was mesmerized. I was squeezing tight on the base as I worked my left hand up and down. His head was impossibly swollen and purple, looking like it was just about to burst. He was dripping cum like a leaky faucet, and it was hanging lewdly in a strand from the tip of his dick. I couldn't resist that, and I put my other hand to work.

I gripped the hard tip and began working the sensitive underside, the swollen ridge of his head sliding in and out of my palm. It was already so wet with his cum, it was slippery enough to squeeze it tight. I pretended not to notice that he had inched closer, and now his cockhead was sliding along the top of my tit as I stroked him.

I was still staring at that cock, desperate to see the explosion that I knew was coming. He was now pumping his hips, the swollen head shiny with the leaking cum, popping in and out between my thumb and index finger as he fucked my fist.

I abandoned my left hand's grip on the shaft and stuck it between my legs. My tits were squeezed together between my arms, his cock had (if this was even possible!) gotten even harder. I knew he was about to come, and I couldn't help rocking forward and back, squeezing his shiny nob with my hand and pressing it to my tits, while at the same time working my hips against my wrist as it pressed between my legs.

Finally, he pushed forward with a groan from deep inside. There was one frozen moment when his swollen cock was still. Then I felt a massive pulse, like a heartbeat, in my hand, and the first strand of cum jerked out of his cock. I kept squeezing and pulling on his cock, staring at the tip of his cock as the white cream jetted out in looping strings. I could not tear my eyes away as he continued to cum, each jet followed by an impact, hot and the warm, across the top of my tits.

The pulsing cock in my hand, the erotic sight of cum erupting out of him, the feel of it landing on me, combined with my hips pushing my pussy against my wrist, swept me into my own climax. My legs were spread as I sat just on the edge of the toilet seat, and my body was almost as rigid as the cock in my hand as it went through me in wave after wave, and then gradually began to subside.

(I don't know how you are, ladies, but when I come just from rubbing my clit it hits fast but not as deep. Does that make sense? When I come from a cock inside me, it tends to take a little longer, and also lasts a little longer, and somehow is more intense. Best, of course, is when I get clit pressure and my pussy is filled with cock! I'm lucky either way: once I'm in the mood, it doesn't take much to get me there.)

I was coming to my senses from my own climax in time to realize that Scott was only now recovering from his. He was still coming, and to add to the slick white lines that covered my tits, I was getting it running all down my forearm. Finally, the spasms started to get farther apart, and he started to soften a little bit. I continued to milk the cum out until it was done, and only then did I start paying attention to anything other than his cock.

I looked up at Scott, and he was looking at me with an expression that was the sweetest combination of guilt and gratitude. It was nice that he was grateful, and I guess it had started out as a bit of a sympathy thing because the girls had been such cock-teases to him, but had done this because I wanted to. Plus, I had climaxed myself, (even though he probably didn't even know it!) and that was not in the cards that afternoon had his big cock not come along. I certainly didn't want him running away feeling guilty, or like he had done anything wrong.

I had to say something, but also running through my mind was the thought that I didn't want him leaving with the idea that running around and showering a woman's tits with cum was something he could do any time he wanted. The guilty look was probably a sign that I didn't have to worry about that, so maybe I was overthinking things.

I was looking up, my hand still grasping his cock, and he was looking down. The guilt in his expression was starting to win out, so I tried to something that was both true, and positive: "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

I was not surprised when he gave his usual response: stunned silence mixed with confusion.

I looked down at my cum-covered chest, and then looked back up smiled. "It kind of looks like you did."

I pulled my hand over the tip of his cock to squeeze off the last drops, and got up. Turning to look in the bathroom mirror, I put my left arm under my tits and lifted them up. "Wow" I whispered. "That was a lot!"

Scott was looking at me as if he didn't know if that was good or bad, and his face was getting red. His cum was dripping down my tits, and hanging lewdly off my nipples and my underboob. I was watching it in the mirror, and leaning over so it would drip into the sink and not all over the floor and the lavatory counter. I could have stared at it a while longer, but Scott was still standing there like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Scott, honey, I'm going to have to clean up."

He immediately nodded and started to pick up his bathing suit.

"Why don't you turn on the shower for us?" I emphasized the "us" so he wouldn't miss it.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to the shower, and in a second he had it running hot.

I held my hands over my tits so I wouldn't drip on the floor, and stepped into the shower. I reached out for his hand and pulled him in with me.

I faced the steamy water and let it flow down my chest. "Get my back?" I murmured. He didn't hesitate, soaping up his hands and massaging my shoulders. His hands were surprisingly strong and graceful, working their way down to my hips.

I wiggled a little bit, and laid my head to one side. "Thank you" I said.

After I had rinsed, I turned off the water and turned towards him. I put my arms around his neck, and said "Do you want to come over again sometime?"

He smiled, another sweet expression of relief and anticipation. "I would love to!"

I nodded. "I'm glad to hear it."

I stepped out of the shower, and covered up with a towel.

"Call me."

"When?"

I smiled. "Whenever you want."

His eyes got big, and I couldn't resist one more bit of flirting: "And when you call, you can let me know if there's something you'd like to try next."

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I saw Scott a lot over the next few months. But those are stories for another time!