Twenty Cups Ch. 03

Then, she coughed—a sloppy, choking gag. My semen erupted from her throat in a massive deluge. Emma gagged and coughed again. More emerged, and much of it looked more like sticky drool than sperm. She spat twice, and ropes of saliva hung from her lips.

Inside the cup was a sample much bigger than my normal output.

Emma rose and wiped her mouth. It didn't make much difference. Her mouth and chin glistened with our combined fluids.

I took the cup, found the lid, and secured them together.

Emma collapsed on top of me.

"I took all of Kevin's, no problem. But, yours...yours is too fat for my throat. I can't get it all."

"Doesn't matter. It felt really, really good."

"Yeah?"

I nodded.

She smiled. Laying her head back down, she asked, "Promise to do me sometime?"

"Yeah."

***

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Mom got a text from Aunt Blair: her flight was arriving at 10:15am. She was supposed to be arriving later in the afternoon, but she took an earlier flight because first class had been overbooked on her original one. She texted Mom from the airport just before her departure. Mom explained it to us.

"I'll be leaving to pick her up at 9:45," she said. "Emma, I would like you to join me."

"What? Why?" Emma complained.

"Keep me company. Mom-daughter time."

"Lia can go, then," she argued.

"Not a negotiation, Emma."

Emma glared at Mom.

"Go get changed, dear."

Emma slid back from the table without a word and glided upstairs like a dark spirit.

Mom stared alternately at Lia and I until she had our silent attention. "You both know what needs to be accomplished. You know my rules. I expect you to control yourselves." She placed a sample container on the kitchen counter.

Lia's fuzzy sock rubbed against my leg under the table.

A few minutes later, I reached under the table and massaged her smooth thigh when Mom was preoccupied in the kitchen. I glanced at Lia, and her eyes were locked on mine. Peripherally, I could sense the quickened rise and fall of her huge, jutting breasts, but it was her eyes that arrested me. They were blue fire.

Before Mom turned back to us, Lia spread her legs. I slipped my hand into her crotch for a few fleetingly wonderful seconds.

***

I took Lia's hand in mine after Mom and Emma walked into the garage. When we heard the car start, Lia's fingers squeezed. Together, we walked to the window in the living room. We listened as the garage door closed; Lia and I glanced at each other. Her eyes were all excitement and joy. We watched the car pull away. It rode out of sight.

Then, we were kissing.

Despite my inexperience, Lia and I meshed well together. Lia was energetic, and it was not long before her tongue slipped into my mouth. Guided by her, I gave Lia my tongue, too.

My hands explored her body. The minute I touched one part, I desperately needed to touch somewhere else, and again. Before long, we were undressing each other in the living room.

Lia's bra was unlatched. My shirt was on the floor and Lia's fingers worked at the button on my jeans when we both stopped. Panting, we looked at each other.

I said, "Upstairs," and she said, "Not here," almost simultaneously.

We scampered upstairs to my room. I closed the door behind us, and our bodies mashed together in a kiss while our hands went back to work undressing one another. Soon, Lia's chest was bare and her pants unbuttoned.

She dropped to her knees to tug my pants and boxers down. My erection sprang free. Without a word, Lia took it with her lips. She bobbed along the shaft several times. When she kissed free of the tip, she huffed, "I love your penis." The front end disappeared inside her mouth, and I grunted at the sudden surge of ecstasy.

"Lia, I want to make love to you," I said. "In your vagina. For real. Will you let me?"

She let my erection out, staring up at me. "You want to have sex? Vaginal sex?"

I nodded.

"You're a virgin, though," she argued.

"So? I want my first to be with you."

"I'm a virgin, too. Plus, I'm your sister."

"Don't care."

She scanned my eyes. Shaking her head, she said, "Mom will find out. We can't."

"I won't ejaculate in you. In the cup, I will."

"Mom will find out."

"How?"

"She'll ask me, and I can't lie to her, not to Mom."

"How do you know she'll ask?" I demanded.

"Because ever since that first time alone for us, she always asks. I've told her everything."

"She knows about when I came to her office?"

Lia grimaced a little and said, "No, she doesn't know about that. She thinks you did it on your own that day. Didn't even ask me. Still, she knows everything we've done together. She knows that I let you make love to my breasts. She knows that I've given you blow...fellatio, I mean. She knows how you've licked me."

Lia was right. "Yeah. Yeah, she does know," I admitted.

She nodded. "And when she asks, I don't lie to her. I won't."

"What does she say when you tell her?"

"She's worried we won't control ourselves. She said if it goes any further, she's going to have to restrict us."

I sighed.

"I want to make love, too, but I'm sorry," she said, "we can't."

I shrugged.

"I liked kissing you earlier," Lia said, smiling shyly.

"Me, too."

"Want me to keep giving you a... a blowjob?" She uttered this last word only slightly louder than a whisper, and her cheeks grew pink.

"In a sec." I said. I slipped her out of her pants and panties, and then I picked her up and carried her to the bed. I laid her on her side, head to the footboard, feet to the headboard. I grabbed the vaseline and the sample cup before climbing in.

Opposite her, Lia saw what I had in mind and grinned. As I scooted toward her, she reached out and grabbed my penis. I hooked my hand around her leg and lifted her knee. Looking down, I watched Lia's lips stretch forward and clasp the tip of my erection. I nuzzled my face between her legs and kissed her vagina. The fluids were already flowing, and I lapped at them for a few seconds before I concentrated all of my efforts on and around her clitoris.

She let my penis out and huffed, "Oh, my gosh, I love this." A moment later, I felt her mouth engulf the front of my erection. I groaned into her vagina.

While she nursed on me, I remembered the depth that Emma had reached in sucking on my penis the day before. It had been stunning and incredible. Lia's mouth barely took in half of me. The difference was disappointing, but Lia made up for it by slathering me in saliva. The accompanying wet noises filled me with excitement.

My face felt coated in Lia's fluids when I drew back from her vagina. I grabbed the vaseline, opened it, and dabbed some with two fingers. I pushed the lid down with my thumb before burying my face back into Lia's crotch.

I slid my hand through her legs and reached up to her bottom. Then, I sank my two fingers in the cleft until they touched her anus. Spreading the slick goop around her tiny hole, I continued munching, sucking, and flicking my tongue over her clitoris.

Aroused, but not so much that she didn't notice, Lia stopped sucking. "Is that vaseline?"

"Yeah."

"What are you going to...oh!"

I had pushed the tip of my middle finger inside her. At the same time, I planted my lips on her vagina and sucked her clitoris into my mouth; my tongue wiggled upon it.

Lia moaned.

I pushed my finger further inside her. Initially, I didn't know how much lubricant I put on her, but now I knew: a lot. My middle finger easily sank to the root. I drove my finger into her bottom, and I circled her clitoris with my tongue. Throughout, Lia's mouth held my erection, but she was no longer sucking. She gasped and cried into it, swallowing her own saliva every so often.

Withdrawing my middle finger, I joined my index finger to it. When Lia felt the two press against her little hole, she uttered, "Softly. Do it softly."

The tips of my digits opened her, and she cried, "Oh!" I waited for her to relax, slowly lapping inside her vagina. Lia slurped my penis. I felt the wetness slide up the shaft into her mouth, and then she swallowed and gasped.

I squeezed my fingers deeper inside her. Lia hummed a plaintive moan, and I felt it's vibration through my erection. I kissed away from her vagina and looked down at her.

LIa's eyes pinched shut. Her mouth gaped, and my rigid penis was extended inside it. She panted through her mouth like she'd just run three miles. I felt air whisk along the shaft. A thin line of drool stretched from her lower lip down to my thigh. Every third or fourth breath was accompanied by a sweet, airy moan.

My fingers could go no further, so I gently rotated them inside her.

We looked at each other. Her eyes seemed to be pleading, "Why are you doing that to me?" But, before I could stop and pull them out, she nodded and moaned.

So, I nodded back, and then I ploddingly made love to her bottom with those two fingers. Lia held my penis with her lips and hummed her pleasure and pain into it.

After a half-minute or so, I drew my fingers out. My erection felt like it was made of concrete.

Lia looked at me, still clasping my penis with her lips.

"Get on your knees," I said.

She grabbed the shaft and pulled it out of her mouth. She looked at it, and then she turned back to me. She didn't say a word, but rolled onto her tummy, and then pushed up to her hands and knees.

I swung myself around and moved behind her. Taking the little tub of vaseline, I covered my erection with it. Lia craned her neck around to watch me, and her eyes widened.

"Are you going to put it in my bottom?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just a little."

"I don't think it will fit."

"But, do you want me to try, Lia?"

She didn't respond, just looked at me. Then, without a word, she faced forward and nodded.

I scooted into position.

She pleaded, "Don't ejaculate in my butt, okay? We've got to get your sample."

"I know. I've got the cup." I set it beside me.

"Okay," she said. "Be gentle." She took a few deep breaths.

There was a proportionality to my penis and her bottom. The sizes, relative to each other, seemed a good match. But, the moment I squeezed her cheeks apart and aligned my erection against her little hole, all symmetry was lost. My penis was cruelly disproportionate to her anus. It was almost shocking. I thought of the nature program on tv, where the zoologist explains that a certain species of snake could swallow a basketball by dislocating its jaw. For Lia to fit my penis in her bottom would be like the snake and the basketball.

I held my erection and stroked it a few times. It was ready—too ready, maybe. I was already close.

Placing the tip against her little pink puncture, I pushed. Her bottom allowed it, absorbing the force by opening wide. Soon, almost the entire tip was inside her.

Lia held her breath, and I could see her straining. Blood infused her face, turning it pink. She grunted. The muscles of her back twitched and fired.

The head of my erection popped inside, and Lia's anus cinched tightly just over the mushroom tip. She hollered, "Oh!"

Lightheadedness took me. I grabbed her hips to steady myself.

Lia cried out. Then, her head and torso dropped down to the mattress, and she laid there, bottom up. I saw her arm slip underneath her body, and I felt her hand begin to rub herself underneath my penis. Shortly, she began uttering a series of whining moans.

I closed my eyes. My penis twitched, and my heart chugged like a runaway train. I'd never wanted to ejaculate so desperately. Every instinct screamed at me to never pull out, but I knew I must. In that moment, I hated and cursed the sample cups.

The pleasure kept spiraling upward. Lia's little noises were thrilling me, and I wanted to cover my ears. It was over, and I'd never even thrusted. Not once.

I looked down at the place where I was joined to her, and I slipped my erection free. Grabbing the cup, I pointed myself into it and let loose.

Lia rolled over to watch. Her eyes were glassy, but energized and ablaze.

She liked it, I thought, as I coaxed the final few drops out of my erection. Her breasts rose and fell. I set the cup down and admired her body. Lia was on her back, propped up on her elbows. Her legs were slightly bent and spread wide.

I laid between them and licked her vagina.

Several minutes later, she pulled my head into her with her hands and legs, crying out. Her body shook.

I rolled onto my back when she released me.

Lia scooted down to me and caressed my cheek. We made out for a long time. I squeezed her fat breasts and slid my hand over the rolling slope of her hips. I dragged my fingers between the silky cheeks of her bottom. I was beginning to grow hard again when we heard the garage door open.

It was a race to get dressed.

"I love being with you, Lia," I said, yanking up my trousers.

She pulled on her panties. "I liked having your penis inside me."

I stopped, asking, "Even in your bottom, you did?"

"Yes," she said, slipping her arms through her bra straps.

"What about real sex? Will you?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to tell Mom what we just did?" I asked.

"I'll try not to. What if she asks you?"

"Masturbated into the cup. It's what happened, right?"

She nodded; a little grin turned on her lips.

Lia won the race to get dressed; I still had to wash off the vaseline.

***

After the mandatory hugs and kisses, I moved Aunt Blair's bags into Lia's bedroom. Lia would sleep in Emma's room. It was a fairly typical arrangement for the girls on Christmas Eve during Aunt Blair's visits.

We had lunch together in the kitchen.

Guided by my newfound sexual awareness, I took in Aunt Blair's face and body at convenient opportunities.

Everything about her seemed manufactured. Born a red head, like Mom, Aunt Blair dyed her hair jet black. She also had it straightened and cut short, so that, parted on the side, her locks kind of cradled her face to just below her chin.

Though naturally blue eyed, she must have been wearing colored contact lenses, because her eyes were brown. Aunt Blair wasn't pale, like Mom and my sisters, she was naturally tan, and her freckles were usually a sparse smattering of dirty-brown marks on her face and nose. But, we rarely saw those freckles anymore. As usual, she had slathered make-up on herself. I imagined running a fingernail over her cheek and coming away with a nail full of creamy, pinkish gunk. Her lips were oddly pinched and fat—had been for several years since she "had them done."

She seemed unusually skinny for her build, which was very similar to Mom's. We heard that Blair went to the gym all the time. Her skin was tight and shiny, as if the natural wrinkles were being pinched together behind her by some unseen clothespin. Her breasts were fat, rigid bubbles springing from her chest—an odd sight on a woman in her mid-40s.

She was younger than Mom, but her artificiality made her somehow seem older. All the work she'd done to appear younger only made the opposite seem true.

A man's first impression of her might have been "a sexy little mama." But, the more one came to know her, the more artificial and repulsive she became.

She took a few bites of her half-sandwich as she and Mom discussed Blair's recent visit to Grandma's.

"That reminds me," Aunt Blair declared, "Remember when I came home for Christmas my freshman year and Mom and Dad let us have drinks?"

Mom nodded.

"Well," Blair continued, "I was thinking that tonight we should all have drinks together, now that everyone's in college."

Emma nodded. "Yeah, can we, Mom?"

Lia said, "Cool!"

Mom glanced at me. "Blair, he can't have any drinks."

"Not wine, of course," Blair responded, "but he could have a few beers. There's no fructose, only maltose."

"It's not that, Blair, it's...we can't alter his diet right now."

"Is he...," Blair began, and then she turned to me. "Are you in some kind of treatment?"

I glanced at Mom, and then back to Blair, "I...."

Mom said, "It's private, Blair. Personal."

Blair looked at me, and then her mouth opened. She turned to Mom. "You're testing his sperm for fructose, aren't you?"

Mom sighed and nodded.

Blair said, "I read the article, too, Meg. The November journal?"

Mom nodded.

Blair shook her head condescendingly at Mom. "Do you know how exceedingly rare that is? For him to have both? It would be...he'd be one of maybe five males in all of the United States."

"I just wanted to make sure."

My aunt turned to me and asked, "So, you're giving ten sperm samples?"

"Twenty," I corrected.

"Twenty?" she responded.

Mom interjected, "The doctor is out of town. She figured he might as well give as many as he can for accuracy."

"Makes sense. Are they checking everything?"

"What do you mean?" Mom asked.

"I mean, are they just checking for fructose in his semen or are you doing a full battery of fertility testing?"

"Just fructose."

"Well, don't you see how silly that is, Meg? If he's got to provide sperm samples, you might as well check for everything: count, motility, volume, genetic formation, the works."

There it was: the disgusting condescension. I glanced at Emma, and her eyes were butcher knives, pointing at Aunt Blair. Lia, to my left, was watching Mom's reaction.

Mom was used to such treatment. She didn't say a word.

Aunt Blair continued, "Did the doctor perform a full examination prior to testing?"

Mom cast a brief look at me, and then said, "No, just a regular health check."

"Meg, dear, there are so many more aspects that his physician can check in order to determine fertility—not just fertility, but the overall health of the penis and testicles. Now, other physicians might disagree, but there are a number of factors that can be determined through a full examination of his genitalia, not just his sperm samples. Did they not teach this at nursing school?"

Mom blinked, and her lips curled inside her mouth, under her teeth. She swallowed, and then spoke. "Yes, of course they did. My focus was on the issue of fertility in relation to his fructose intolerance."

Blair threw her hands up, as if Mom were being argumentative. "Okay, okay. Whatever. All I'm saying is that as long as you're doing the one, you might as well do it all."

"You make a good point, Blair, but his regular physician, as I said, is out of town and..."

"I'll examine him tomorrow," Blair interjected. "What time do you provide your sample?" she asked me.

"Uh...." I was reeling from the notion that my Aunt was proposing to examine my penis. "Ten or so in the morning," I finally responded. I glanced at Mom, and I felt Lia and Emma watching me.

"That will be perfect," Blair announced. Turning back to Mom, she said, "Before he provides his sample, then, I'll swing up to his room and do what I can."

Mom said, "That's...that's very good of you to offer, but you're on vacation. We don't want to put you out, and he might not feel altogether..."

Overriding Mom, Blair said, "I'm a doctor, Meg. It's what I do; I help people." Looking at me, she said, "Tomorrow at ten, kiddo."

I looked to Mom for a veto. Nothing. I nodded.

Mom's eyes crawled up to meet mine. She was sorry. I could tell. Under the table, Emma kicked my calf. Do something!

I ate my fructose-free lunch, and Blair moved the conversation on to the islands her cruise ship was visiting.

On Christmas morning, Aunt Blair was going to examine my genitals.

***

That night, I was in Emma's room with Lia. Mom and Aunt Blair were out together.

"Can you believe that? Can you believe how rude she was to Mom?" Emma asked.

I nodded.

Lia said, "I can, Em. Aren't you used to it by now?"

"No! I'll never get used to what a bitch she is."