What I Did for Love

Since I'd become rather adept at—and could now get pleasure from—his cock rapidly going in and out of my mouth, slamming against the back, I thought it was something I could do. Plus, because I'd become Steven's cum-loving girlfriend, if it made him cum more that was cool. Playing with even more of it would enhance my sexual pleasure too. I was still finding all of this cum stuff entertaining and continued to have satisfying climaxes. My pussy missed his cock sometimes, but playing with my clitoris usually satisfied that lack.

I did my research and found some stuff about learning to deep throat. I didn't tell Steven that I was going to work on it. I thought it better not to let him know. This way if I couldn't do it, he wouldn't be disappointed. And if I could, it would be a happy surprise.

It began with the non-business end of my toothbrush. I tried to just put it on the back of my tongue. Naturally, it forced a little gag, but nothing I couldn't handle. I kept at it most mornings and before bedtime for a couple of weeks until I was comfortable with an object or my finger back there, even being able to put pressure on my tongue with no gagging.

Steven and I kept doing our sex play as he found more unusual things for us, well, me to do with his ejaculate. I'd often use a handheld mirror to find the most exciting ways to play with his cum. I wanted to find ways to make it hotter for him. I discovered ways to enrich the load with my saliva and just swishing it around and aerating it. Then I found some other toys on which to dribble it before licking it up to swallow. These included spoons, ladles, martini glasses, plates and other assorted things.

Steven even bought a few odd pieces of glassware specifically for me. He said it was for collecting his cum. It included stemware, dishes, and even beakers plus a few other things you'd find in a chemistry lab.

All I could think was: A boy and his toys. But the more I indulged his fantasies, the more they turned me on too.

A few times I even asked him to cum on a variety of foods to see if any one could improve the unique flavor of semen. The only thing I found that was truly enhanced by semen were chips, especially the spicy ones. We tried some sweets, but mostly unsuccessfully. Chocolate chip cookies were weird because they disintegrated pretty quickly, but even semen can't diminish the deliciousness of chocolate chip cookies. Ice cream simply covered the taste. Dessert wines went well with straight semen, but they're pretty expensive.

For a week or so Steven became obsessed with my eating even a wider array of foods with his cum on or in it. Then, just as suddenly as this new interest began, he moved on.

Once Steven came all over my face. He called it a facial, but not the kind I'd ever known. He did it a few more times. It wasn't satisfying for me though, not nearly as when he'd come in my mouth. However, I did enjoy watching him shoot off right in front of me. One time he did that and I played with myself. That was memorably hot. Just watching his cock shoot almost anywhere excited me by this time in the relationship. Plus I learned about and watched a lot of bukkake and gokkun videos.

A few times I suggested that we save it up for an evening to see how much cum he could manufacture. It was really hot seeing it all, but once it cools off it loses something. The smell changes and the taste is more intense and quite a bit stronger. We even tried to freeze it and then thaw it out. It wasn't great, not tasty the way it is fresh and warm. When it cools, and even more so when you freeze it and it thaws, it loses the thick and slimy texture. It becomes watery, strong tasting, but not delicious like the fresh stuff is.

One night after Steven gave me a particularly satisfying load, he told me that he loved how I moaned and made little noises when he came and when I licked up his cum. I didn't even realize I was doing that. I guess it all agreed with me and made me quite content.

All this time I continued learning and practicing how to deep throat. Having long since graduated from toothbrushes, I used a few rubber dildos I had purchased. Each night when I was alone I'd try to get comfortable with the thing going into the back of my mouth and then down my throat. I found some videos of women doing this and tried to see their techniques. Most of my research was for naught. For me at least, learning to deep throat was not something you learned from watching others. It was all about that old joke: A fellow with a violin case is standing in midtown Manhattan. He stops a man and asks "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" The man looks down at his case and says, "Practice."

If I were going to learn to deep throat I just needed to get comfortable with the foreign object going down beyond the back of my mouth. Sounded much simpler than it was.

Nevertheless, after a couple of months I was able to deep throat the biggest dildo I had and even to push it in and out my throat. There were angles and some places that still caused me to gag, but I was quite proud of my newly honed sex skill.

Steven's work took him to conferences quarterly and the next one was going to be in Miami. So a few nights later, after a dinner and a movie, driving back to his place, Steven and I planned for me to join him for the weekend in Miami. It was during those dreary days of March when most of us Midwesterners had had it with the slush, the cold and the snow. A warm sunny beach was just the tonic I needed.

It was a terribly cold night, way below freezing, so after getting into some unsexy but cozy PJs Steven made a fire while I sat at his dining table using his laptop to book my travel to meet him in Miami. He came up and stood behind me as I showed him the booking I'd made. It would get me to his hotel on Friday afternoon just as his conference was ending.

"This is going to be great," he told me. "We're staying at a place with a great view. We can see the skyline when we go to bed and watch the sunrise in the morning."

"I can't wait," I said, thinking that deep throating him on a balcony overlooking the ocean would be a great way to showcase my newly acquired talent.

A week or so later I arrived at his hotel. He met me at the door of his room with a single red rose, handing me a flute of champagne. I could see the sunny ocean in the background and the moment thrilled me with romance and, I must admit, sexual desire. I could think of nothing on the flight down but putting his hard cock in my mouth and sucking on it until he flooded my mouth with his cum. I might have even salivated a bit.

After getting settled we went down to the beach. The sand was warm and the sun caressed my body. My internal thermostat suddenly realized that I was no longer in the cold north, letting all my muscles relax, the tension leaving my body. I closed my eyes and relished the moment.

It was heaven. I was with the man I loved on a beach looking out at the ocean.

As I began to drift off into a nap, I imagined how much fun it was going to be when I could look up to see Steven's face with his beautiful dick buried in my throat.

Ah, yes. Life was good.

Chapter 5: Best Laid Plans

My brief siesta was just what the doctor ordered. I turned over to get some sun on my back and asked Steven to rub on some sun protection.

He went to undo my bikini top and when he touched my skin, I suddenly realized how excited I was. His touch immediately sparked my libido. I was so turned on I could only think about sucking his cock. I wanted to feel his hardness in the back of my mouth, grab his butt and then push him deep into my throat.

My excitement was so intense that I considered leaving right then to bring him back to the room to do it. I took a deep breath as his smooth, creamy hands were rubbing all over my back and shoulders. That too felt wonderful.

But since I'd been learning the technique for a couple of months now unbeknownst to him, surely the deep throat blowjob surprise could wait a little longer. I was just enjoying the warmth and the feelings of the moment.

We shared the ride with another couple in the elevator back up to the room. They too were quite pale. We smiled. They smiled back. Elevators are strange places. You share a brief moment in life with complete strangers. Then they're gone, never to be encountered again. Is that a connection or is it just a confluence of a few lives? Maybe it's the tiniest intersection of those two circles in the old Venn diagram.

I was oily and sandy and needed to wash off, so I wanted to hop into the shower the moment we entered the room. Steven though had opened another bottle of champagne. He poured us two glasses. Both of us knew we were showing no class and being a bit stupid, but we downed the champagne quickly anyway, like it was water. He then poured another for each of us. I took mine and headed to the bathroom.

"Honey, you want to join me in the shower?" I asked Steven.

"Not now, babe, I need to make a few calls," he said.

"I thought your conference was over."

"Just give me a few minutes and then come join me on the balcony."

This was going according to plan, I thought to myself. I took off my bikini, pinned up my hair and looked at myself in the mirror. Not bad, overall. There were always things I would have improved, but in general I looked pretty damn good. I was rather thin. I worked out regularly and had a nice firm but cute butt. Some would say it was a bit small, but I didn't have very wide hips. Not much I could do about that. So, sometimes I thought I was a little too long limbed, but other than getting fat, there wasn't much I could do about that either. Plus, I think my relatively narrow hips provided me with naturally thinner thighs than if they were wider.

I was too tall, just under 5'10" and at about 130, I was near the bottom of the healthy weight BMI range. However, except for pants, I was still able to find a lot of clothes that fit right off the rack. Regardless of my workout regime, this too was a gift of my genes. Thanks, mom and dad.

As I was about to turn on the shower, I glanced down, noticing my toothbrush. I immediately recalled first using it to help me learn to deep throat. A sudden rush of excitement made me tremble. My legs went weak and I had to hold on to the countertop. I could feel my pussy getting wet.

All this just from seeing my toothbrush. Wow. I needed to get in and out of this shower and get started with Steven's beautiful cock. I needed it in my mouth. I needed to see if I could deep throat him. I needed him to come.

As I washed myself, I thought more about it. Would I do OK? Could I actually deep throat his good-sized hard-on? I'd read that I should expect a real cock (versus a dildo, even a big one) to be more challenging. Was I up to the task? Would he really give me more spunk? That would be cool.

I'd really become a cum junkie. We had gotten to the point where sometimes he'd just jerk off on something—my hand, the mirror, a book jacket, even the back of my iPad—and I'd get off watching him shoot his load. Then I'd get even more turned on as I licked it and played with it, sometimes for several minutes, letting it drool out my mouth and over my chin, only to lick it up again and again.

I had become a walking porn enthusiast's fantasy. I considered this too as I washed and momentarily doubted if it was healthy, mentally. But then I found myself licking my lips under the shower and imagining Steven shooting his cum at me and into my mouth. The mental health concern forgotten, at least for the nonce; it was replaced by my sexual urges.

When I emerged from the shower, I downed the champagne in one swallow. After drying off I unpinned and then fixed my hair. I spent a few moments making myself look and smell beautiful for my boyfriend. I brushed my teeth to be even cleaner for the delightful tastes that awaited me. As I was finishing my ablutions I looked at the empty champagne flute, realizing I had probably had a half-bottle of the stuff in just the last few minutes on an empty stomach.

I had thought it was just my erotic feelings, but I realized that the lightheadedness was the result of both my libido (those damn neurotransmitters) and the champagne (that devil alcohol). It didn't matter too much. I had sucked Steven's cock both sober and drunk. There was no real difference. Either way orgasms, cum, pleasure and satisfaction were achieved. Life was good.

As I put on a bra and panties and threw on the soft cotton hotel robe from the closet, I remembered just a few days ago when Steven was relaxing on the bed watching me put on my lingerie. He asked me to do it more slowly and he pulled out his cock and began jerking off. As he got up a nice head of steam, I stopped my reverse strip show and knelt down to closely observe at his pumping action. I wanted him to come in my mouth, but I wanted to watch him shoot too.

I stuck out my tongue, trying to lick the head, but his hand was moving up and down too fast. Then suddenly he came. It might have been quick, but it nevertheless was a thing of beauty. I watched his cum shoot up and land on his stomach, his thighs, his balls and his hand. I put my fingers on my pussy and came myself. Then I leaned over. First I slowly licked the cum on his ads, but I didn't get a big enough taste so I moved to slurp up what I found on his hips and thighs. Next I licked his balls. Then I got to the best part: his hand and cock, both heavy with his hot, creamy semen. I took all I could in my mouth and relished the strong taste. I stayed there with his softening dick and some of his fingers in my mouth, loving the texture and tastes. As I said, life was good.

And now I was going to do it again.

Leaving the bathroom I loudly announced, "OK, babe, how about some more champagne. Then I want your cock to give me a mouthful of cum."

Oops!

I was glad I had clothes on, but wish I had just left it at "... some more champagne."

Three men were sitting with Steven on the balcony. They had obviously heard what I'd said and were responding with laughter and some just-for-the-guys comments the way you'd imagine. Damn! Me and my big mouth.

"I wish you had told me we had company, honey," I said, hesitating to join them.

"No, Patrice, it's OK. Nothing to be embarrassed about. These are my friends from work. They also decided to stay for the weekend."

Red-faced, I tightened the robe around me and walked hesitantly out to the balcony. Steven introduced me to Mark, Shane and Jerome. They were all district managers of other territories. All four of them were in T-shits and shorts and drinking champagne.

Handing me a fresh glass, Steven brought over a chair for me and tried to make me feel comfortable. I was still red-faced from the embarrassment of my premature ejaculation.

Plus, I was disappointed that, at least for now, I was not going to be able to show him the new trick for which I'd been diligently training.

Fortunately, there was no mention of my explicit outburst so we all discussed the hotel, the beach and the climate for a few minutes. Several enthusiastic, but somewhat strained, comments were made about the scenic view and the colors of the ocean in the late afternoon. We all awkwardly agreed that, given the heavenly climate, it was better being here than being in Boston, Minneapolis, St. Louis, and Chicago.

A few minutes later, Steven, always coming up with something unexpected, surprised me again.

No, not just surprised me: He shocked and, for the first time, humiliated me with his next statement.

"Patty, I was telling the guys about your little sexual proclivities and they've offered to add to your pleasure. I mean in terms of providing you with a larger quantity." He had that far away look, the one where he focused on my mouth, not me, the person. "This is just if you want to, of course. No pressure. If you don't want to just say the word and it'll just be the two of us. They're out of here."

I couldn't believe him. I could not believe he would do this.

I'd known the guy intimately for months. We were together just about any time we weren't at our jobs. He knew me. I knew him. How could he possibly want me to do this?

It's understandable to explore sexual fantasies with your partner. It's completely different to share your intimacies with others. I had never spoken about our sex life with anyone. It was something you just didn't do. I thought this was true for him too.

How could he put me in this position? My emotions ran from anger, to hurt, to disappointment, to rage, to betrayal and... I didn't even know some of these other feelings existed in me. As I said, I was stunned and, if I hadn't just downed all that champagne I would have turned around, packed up and gotten on the next flight home. Instead, without saying a word and avoiding making any eye contact with the others, I just got up, quickly walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.

I sat down on the stool in front of the vanity, shaking. I was feeling the effects of the alcohol and I was angry. I wanted to take some kind of action, but I couldn't figure out what to do. I loved this man. Or so I thought. Now he just wants to show me off like a trained dog.

What had I done? Perhaps more important at the moment: What should I do now?

I realize now that was another one of the events that should have motivated me to leave: For it was when the voice in my head said, "Get out, you idiot. Now!" Sadly, I didn't hear it. My addiction was too strong and I was firmly in its grip.

After some time, my anger and humiliation began to subside, submerging in a sea of sexual desire. It was truly the moment when Steven's fixations had become mine. A perverted sexual desire, but so strong I could not resist it.

I looked at the counter. I saw the toothbrush. Memories of it as a learning device excited me. Strange that something that used to gag me, was now something that turned me on. Then I looked at the empty champagne glass. I began to imagine what it would look like with cum in it. Could the cum from four guys fill it? My mind had moved from betrayal to excitement in just a few moments. I was at the mercy of my sex drive, my perverted, cum-addicted sex drive. I needed it. This was my opportunity to have it. Steven had arranged it.

So what if I swallowed the cum of other guys? Steven was obviously OK with it. Why shouldn't I be? The idea was exciting: drinking the cum from four guys. Damn.

I put both hands between my legs, the palm of each wrapped around the inside of my upper thigh. Then I pushed my two thumbs on my clitoris and rubbed for just seconds. I was surprised at how strongly I came. I hadn't been touching myself too much because of the focus on Steven's cock and his cum. But this orgasm was mine and mine alone. My body felt electric as I reveled in its paroxysms of sex for a long time. I could smell my familiar feminine aromas from the wetness between my legs.

Suddenly I needed to satisfy my fetishistic desires. I wanted, no, I needed the cum of those men on the balcony. Now.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, in the world outside, though, things had changed. They'd changed big time. Moe, Larry and Curly were gone. Steven was standing there looking at me with his big brown eyes. The rose he'd handed me when I arrived was in his hand. He walked up to me, looked deep into my eyes. Then he gave me one of those haymaker kisses like he used to, the kind that always swept me off my feet.

It felt wonderful. This was the man I'd fallen in love with. In a flash I forgot about all the weird sex stuff and wanted to make love to him. Only him. We didn't speak a word, but he took my hand, led me to the bed, gently set me down and began kissing and licking me with a thrilling intensity. He opened my robe and continued kissing my face and my neck. I shrugged out of the robe and took off my bra.