Eat, Sleep, Masturbate Ch. 02

I strove to compose myself, wiping my hair off my sweaty brow. "Sorry, I was not expecting that in the story."

"Quite all right. I recall my ejaculation was similar."

"Oh?"

"Yes: The first couple of spasms propelled my semen up my torso and chest; the remaining contractions simply dispelled it on my abdomen."

"I just got myself in the chin," I mused, swiping the essence off and wiping it on my belly. "What did Diana think of that?"

"She asked if that's how far a man typically shoots when he ejaculates. And I said it depends from man to man, and on a variety of factors—how aroused he is, how long it's been since his last ejaculation, age, and so on. Then she asked if that what semen usually looks like, and I said, yes, it's usually a pearly white and rather viscous, but again it varies from man to man. She asked if she could touch it, and I obliged, and like the Cowper's, she was intrigued by its consistency and viscosity. She then brought it to her nose and dabbed a bit on her tongue."

Though spent, my debilitated cock stirred and quivered when he said this. "Really?"

"Yes. She remarked that the semen had a heavy herbal, floral fragrance to it, but its flavor was lightly bitter and a little salty."

"Was that weird?"

"Again, challenging limits, but I don't think she was doing it to be salacious or taboo, but to seek understanding. With limited educational options in those days, you can hear rumors and whispering and the like from your friends, who—let's face it—may or, more likely, really don't know, or you can ascertain for yourself. So I tried to provide a setting where she could explore safely, and it's my duty to teach her. Sex should be no different than any other lesson. Learning to read. Learning to cook. Learning about sex. All the same."

"That's awesome."

"And I know you know this, but that goes for you, too. Never hesitate to ask questions. On rare occasion I may decline, but I will always do my best to answer you honestly and fully. And Diana could be a good resource, if you welcome her to be."

That last statement made my heart flutter. "Thanks, Dad," I said, rising. Drained by my orgasm, I was draped in exhaustion. "I think I'm going to head to bed." I turned off the TV.

"I think I'm going to do the same," he assured. He waved me over for a hug.

I demurred, signaling that I was spattered in my own cum. He said, "It's fine," and he pulled me close, giving me a quick bear hug. My penis brushed his thigh as I could feel his against mine.

"Thanks, Dad. I love you. See you in the morning."

"Yup. Remember we have to leave early. Your sister's flight gets in around ten. Love you too. Sleep well."

We turned and walked into the night, returning to our rooms.

* * * * *

"Still on that, are you?" My dad asked, looking up over the rim of his glasses from the breakfast table.

"It was on my mind when I woke up this morning," I shrugged as I leaned against the kitchen counter, cradling my coffee in my hand, pulling the fragrance into my lungs. "Is that wrong?"

"Absolutely not. Happy to share. What's on your mind?"

"So what happened after?"

Putting his hands palm down on his opened newspaper on the table, my dad said, "Well, right after, her mother called us to breakfast, so we didn't have much time to recuperate from our orgasms."

"Did Betty know what had gone on?"

"Not immediately, but she got a sense when we got to the kitchen and saw my semen on my chest."

"You didn't clean up before you got to the table?"

"No, that seemed disingenuous, like I was trying to hide something. So when I got to the kitchen I retrieved a towel from the drawer and wiped it off then. Then around the table we explained that Diana had some questions about men's sexual response so I wanted to explain and illustrate."

"What did Betty think of that?"

"She was quite elated about it. She saw it as one of our daughter's significant steps to becoming an independent woman and preparing herself to be with a man. Betty asked Diana very similar questions to yours. And Diana was exuberant but methodical in her explanation, as if she were trying to show how much she had learned."

"Did she mention her own orgasm?"

"She did. Recall, orgasms around the house were nothing new."

"Oh, I know, but this was the first time you two had orgasmed essentially together, right?"

"Now that's true. So Di's answer was very matter-of-fact and measured, but very self-revelatory. She said that she didn't expect to be so aroused by the sight and touch of an erect penis. Usually when she's masturbating, she said, 'I'm just enjoying the heightened sensations of my own body.' But she discovered that seeing and feeling my erection was very arousing and felt drawn to masturbate."

My cock rising, I made my way to the table. "Did she talk about using your Cowper's fluid to masturbate?"

"She did. She said she was unaware that men produced such a fluid and it felt very smooth when she massaged her clitoris with it. Betty said, 'Isn't that essence wonderful!' Adding, 'Sometimes when your father and I are being intimate I'll ask him to expel some directly onto my clitoris so that I can masturbate some before he penetrates me.' Diana found that curious and asked, 'You masturbate as part of having sex with Daddy?' And her mother said, 'Oh yes, it helps to ensure that I'm fully aroused and wet to comfortably accept your dad's penis in my vagina. Also, he finds watching me touch my vulva very arousing.' Which is true—I loved it when she did that as part of having sex. I remember when she said that, she reached under the table and circled her hand around my penis. She finished her thought saying that she found it very emboldening that she could make me so aroused and enflamed with desire by just caressing her labia and clitoris, 'by just showing my body to him,' she said." My dad got a faraway look in his eyes as it looked at nothing in particular off in the kitchen. "Could she ever..."

I watched my dad as he tumbled into a fond memory. Though his marriage to Betty later spiraled to an acrimonious divorce, it's nice to see that there were still some good times that he could affectionately recall. I sipped my coffee, enjoying the freedom that nudity brings.

My dad returned to the present, continuing, more for his own reminiscence, but the topic was still interesting: "Diana used the opportunity to ask her mother if she could feel me when I ejaculated in her vagina. Her mother said, 'No, dear, I really can't, but what I can feel is his thrust becoming faster, harder, more urgent right before he orgasms and ejaculates. And that's the most wonderful feeling.' She said it's so arousing and satisfying to know that she could make me so abandoned to that much pleasure, and that making me orgasm usually made her orgasm."

"Really?"

"Yes. Our rhythm was she would make me orgasm, and my orgasm would usually trigger her orgasm. She had a couple of wonderful techniques she would use to trigger my orgasm."

"Oh?" My interest piqued with an inquisitive smile. "And what were those?"

"Ah, well, that's a story for another time. We need to go pick up you sister." My dad motioned at the kitchen clock.

We rose. As was my wont, my cock was hard, the tip connected to my thigh by a glistening thread of precum. My dad pointed at my penis. "Are you good to go? Do you need to masturbate before we head out?"

"Nah, Dad, I think I'll be all right," I assured.

"OK. Let's close up the house and head on out." I headed to my room, quickly brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face and tried to comb my hair into something reasonable. I returned to the main part of the house and locked the sliding doors to the patio. With a cigarette between his lips, my dad asked, "Ready?"

"Yup!"

I locked the door behind us and met him at the car. He tossed me the car keys. "Do you mind driving?"

"Happy to," snatching the keys from the air. Luckily it was still early enough in the day that the seats weren't too hot. I threw the car in reverse to back us down the driveway, twisting my torso to look out the rear window.

"Are our road clothes in the back seat?" My dad asked.

"Yeah, looks like a tropical button-up and some shorts for you, and I think my board shorts and t-shirt are on the floor."

Down on the road, I put the car in drive and pulled away from the house. "What I wouldn't give to be able to do this whole drive naked," I declared. "I hate clothes."