What I Did for Love

Peering into the glass, the thick cum was kind of gross, but hotter than hell. The three finishers and I all looked at Shane. He was intently concentrating on his extraordinary penis. I felt a little sorry for him. Maybe he was having performance anxiety. It happens to every guy, at least on occasion. His size almost made it something other than a human hard-on. I realized I had begun to focus on it too: I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

I suddenly needed that huge head to shoot cum. There seemed to be nothing else more important at the moment but to see him that cock come. I was filled with a sudden desire to try to wrap my mouth over that monster dick of his. I wanted to see cum spewing out of that slit. I needed that. And if some of that cum could find its way onto my tongue that would be just fine with me.

Unscientifically reviewing the apparent quantities of cum, Steven was number one with Jerome a close second and Mark came in third. Of course, those are sperm of the moment judgments, not a measured comparison.

Just a moment or two later, Shane started to come. I don't know what I was expecting, but he delivered the goods. I guess I was thinking that he'd have an orgasm proportional to his gigantic size, one that might be measured in buckets. Well, that wasn't the case. It was much more human than his size was, quantitatively. Yet, he appeared to be the new number one, contributing a lot of volume to the already good-sized collection of cum in the glass.

I was surprised to see that it did not shoot out exactly. His extremely thick ejaculate spilled or poured out of the slit, like quickly turning a faucet on and off. He must have ejected eight or nine big, thick globs before slowing down. They were spaced a little further apart than the other guys, but it was sexy to watch. I almost thought I could hear the splashes as they fell into the glass of cum. When his spurts stopped, cum continued to flow a little more from the tip. It looked delicious.

Looking at the pool of cum in the glass, turned me on. "Hot stuff," I said, holding it up high for all to see.

The part of me that was excited was really excited. It was one of the most exciting things I'd ever seen. I realized that being with these cocks and watching them shoot their cum live was a first for me. It was so different than watching it in the videos. These were real men with real dicks shooting real cum. And I had all or most of it at least in a glass right under my nose.

Was there a protocol for this? I wanted so much to taste it, but I didn't know how to proceed. Was I supposed to wait for the guys to say something? Was it OK just to swallow the whole thing? I always liked the feel of it sliding down my throat. Once I made it bubbly with saliva, it always went down easily and felt creamy and smooth. And as long as I swallowed the right way, it always got me hot. Then again, just holding the glass, now in front of my face, filled my head with the smell of cum, male sex juice, jism, whatever they called it. The aroma was intoxicating.

I needed to have an orgasm, right then and I knew how. Not worrying about the guys—and let's face it, they were toast for at least a few minutes—I inhaled deeply and brought the glass to my lips. Then I tilted it enough so that about half of it poured onto my tongue. I knew some of it would overflow it and brought up my other hand to catch anything that spilled.

The sensation of cum on my tongue hit my taste buds along with the heady scent. That was enough to do it for me. I had one of those otherworldly orgasms. My body trembled as I tried to keep the cum from leaking out of my hand, but my focus was on my body's sexual response to the delicious masculine liquid on my tongue. Not wanting to lose any, I closed my mouth and swished it around, making sure I got it to every corner so it saturated my mouth and tongue.

I finally opened my eyes and saw four pairs of them staring at me with the same expression: surprise and arousal. Fuck 'em, I remember thinking. And fuck protocol. I was in an orgasmic place. I brought the glass back up to my lips and drank in all that was left in the glass. With all the swishing, the cum was now more than my mouth could handle. I wanted to swallow it. I was ready. But I thought I'd play with it some more thinking it would help the guys to jerk off again. I wanted to see more ejaculations and more cum.

Lowering the glass, but still keeping it directly below my mouth, I slowly pushed the load out so it drooled down over the width of my lips, down my chin, and into the glass. It felt like the sexiest thing I'd ever done. Maybe it was. I wished I could see what it looked like.

It occurred to me that I had missed some cum. I found those errant blobs on the side of the glass and on my wrist and arm and licked them into my mouth. The touch excited me even more.

The guys seemed to appreciate it. To a man, they already were starting to play with themselves anew. I took the glass and poured about half of it back into my mouth. Then I put my head back and gargled with it. This produced a chorus that consisted of expressions like "Oh shit!" and "Fuck me!" and "Damn. I've never met a woman who's done that."

With that approbation I swallowed what I had in my mouth, my body continuing to enjoy itself even without any external contact. I knew, however, that I'd go ballistic if someone placed just a hand on any part of my body. There was still about an ounce of cum in the glass. I looked up at the guys.

"Do you think you could give a girl some more? I semen to be running low," I punned.

It was mostly lost on my audience, erect again through their ministrations. I then realized how much I needed contact. I could feel some cum icicles still hanging off my chin. I looked up at Steven to see if everything was all right with him. He just had the same look as the other guys, staring at my mouth the way he always did.

Fuck it, I thought. I leaned over to Jerome's cock, the nearest one, and began licking the head. I then drew the whole good-sized head and several inches more into the back of my mouth. Everyone, except Jerome, gasped. Jerome emitted an "Oh God." I wanted to push his hand away from his cock. I wanted to control its movements. But I think I still had a palmful of cum in it. The other hand had the glass. Oh well. Whatever. I just wanted him to come.

It was then that I realized I hadn't shown Steven my new talent, my deep throat technique. As I continued licking and playing with Jerome, I wondered if this was the right time to do so. I decided against it, for the moment at least. Jerome was about as big as the biggest dildo I'd practiced on so I was somewhat confident I could take him all the way, but I didn't have the chance. With almost no warning, he thrust into the back of my mouth and started to ejaculate again.

His orgasm triggered another one for me and I joined him as we both seemed to go to that Oh Jeez! place. It was awesome. I could feel him pulsing deep into my mouth and the renewed fresh semen taste was strong. I loved it.

Once he finished coming he moved back and all three of the other guys wanted the same treatment. I wanted each of them too. Steven pushed forward and started to jerk himself off into my open mouth. I briefly looked up at him with affection, but he remained focused on his sudden ejaculation into my mouth. Oh well. As I said, I was loving the new fresh cum added to that of Jerome's already there.

While Steven was shooting in my mouth, Mark came too, trying to aim it into my mouth too, but most landed on my face. I was glad that at least some of Mark's cum managed to make it in with the rest. I could feel the remainder on my cheek. The fresh new cum was such a turn on, I couldn't help but swallow it. No playing. No drooling. No nothing. Just swallowing a mouthful. If they didn't like it, tough. I enjoyed every drop.

Then it was Shane and his outrageously sized equipment again. I put the glass on the table and reached my hand out for his cock. I just needed to try to take that immense thing in my mouth. It felt like a challenge.

Turns out, it was a challenge. At first I couldn't even get my mouth around the head. God, he was big. I liked its texture and it tasted great. But getting mouth around that head was nearly impossible. I pulled him out and asked him if anyone had ever gotten the entire head in her mouth.

"One girl I used to see did it once. I think it hurt her jaw for a few days. She never even tried it again," Shane said.

"I don't think I can, at least now not. My jaw is pretty tired and sore as is. Could you just jerk off for me? I want your cum again too."

"Oh God," he said as he stared at my open mouth. "You got it."

He went back to stroking himself, again using two hands. I reached out and played with his balls while I licked more pre-cum spilling out of the head. In just a few moments he rewarded me with a load of delicious, rich cum. I only had half the head in my mouth, but it was enough to contain all of his ejaculate. I loved the feel of it spewing onto my tongue.

When he finished coming, he pulled away. I picked up the glass that still had some from the first round and slowly let Shane's cum drool down, in with the rest. There was enough in there to swirl around in the bottom of the glass. I held it up to the light and was shocked at how much I wanted it. I needed to drink it. I couldn't wait any longer.

I brought the glass up to my mouth, smelling the strong aromatic bite of semen. Then I upended the glass a few inches above my open mouth and let all of it slowly pour onto my tongue. It ratcheted up my already soaring excitement level, but I realized that I was now mostly orgasmed out. I was tired from all the coming I'd been doing. My body couldn't take much more. In addition, my jaw was sore. I was enjoying myself, but needed to stop. It was time.

I swished all the cum around one time and then made a little show of the lovely white liquid to the group, all still staring at my mouth. Oh well. Guys! It wasn't like I wasn't used to the staring.

Finally I closed my mouth and swallowed the rich sweetness. I loved the smooth creamy texture and the lingering taste of semen in my mouth. Smiling up at the guys I said, "Why don't you guys give it a rest? I think this mouth has had it for the night. Plus you all look silly dressed from the waist up with your naked dangling parts below."

Chapter 7: New Challenges

The five or us discussed it: The cum-swilling session that night in Miami was a going to be a one-time event. The guys swore they'd keep it private. I was taller than three of them so I threatened to find them and beat them if they ever told anyone about it.

They knew it was an empty threat and met it with derision. We ultimately reached a compromise: If they really needed to, they could tell about the event, but no names or connections. They could just say they had a night with a wild woman.

I was OK with that. Uncomfortable, but what could you do? Fortunately there were no pictures or recordings. Dodged a bullet there.

One new thing I discovered about myself was that all that cum gave me a bit of an upset stomach. I thought it might be the acids in the semen or it could be my body's production of extra saliva in reaction to all that semen. Regardless, I took a few antacids and drank a lot of water. That settled my stomach.

Steven and I talked about it over the weekend. He was loving and romantic and charming the rest of our time there, the old Steven that I first met, that I knew, and that I loved. In fact, we made love several times. He went down on me as I did him. The weather on the beach was beautiful and, except for a few restaurants, that's where we spent all of our non-intimate time.

On the flight back we held hands and I felt closer to him than I had in quite some time. We'd been together now for a few months. I was in love with him. Life was good.

I was hoping that most of these sexual fantasies, now that they had been acted out, would diminish in importance for him. This seemed to be the case for a while. Unfortunately, Steven was hooked and, though he hid it from me, his world of fantasies just grew. Looking back on the whole relationship, as I know now, it was a mistake for me to continue indulging those fantasies.

The next month or so was great. We had romance, dancing, candlelit dinners and loving, caring, and most importantly, reciprocal sex. I thought it brought us closer together than ever.

My deep throat ability was still unproven because I had not shown it to him yet. Each time I wanted to show him what had learned to do, something came up and it didn't seem to be the most opportune moment. Maybe I was worried that I couldn't do it well. I continued practicing occasionally to make sure my technique was still OK. I even sent away for a dildo larger than the biggest I had been using. Although I couldn't be positive, the new dildo was about the size of Shane's cock, the outrageously big one in Miami. The one whose head I couldn't fit in my mouth. I didn't think about Shane, but I found it made me hot to practice trying to deep throat it, especially when I watched myself in the mirror. I was getting really good at it.

During that time, there were two weekends where the obsessive Steven returned. It surprised me that during each of them Steven only wanted blowjobs and to watch me play with his cum. Most of the time he watched videos while I was sucking him. Then he would have me do all these things with his cum, some rather bizarre. Nothing disgusting, but still odd. Between Friday evening and Sunday evening he must have come in my mouth eight or nine times. Then on Monday he again became the loving, caring, sweet man I thought and hoped I knew.

It was so strange. I asked him about it and he just shrugged it off. When I pressed him he continued to dismiss my concerns, asking why I was nagging him so much. I didn't know how to proceed so I maintained my part of our relationship, especially when he returned to his loving self.

So life got back to normal and before I knew it, Steven was getting ready for another of his quarterly work meetings. This time the conference was to be in Seattle. He thought it would be the perfect time for us (meaning "me") to get back to the cum fantasies that excited him so. He recalled the night in Miami with him and three work buddies. He told me they'd be coming to Seattle and asked if I wanted to have a special party again.

It just came out of left field, for me at least. I had not thought much about that night in Miami. It was months ago. When I did recall it, in my mind it was a unique incident. Yes, I'd enjoyed being the center of all that attention and playing with those four cocks. And, yes, yes, I enjoyed all of that cum. Steven's damn fantasies had made me that much of a slut for it. But that one night, I thought I was doing it more for Steven than for me. I was more than satisfied with just the two of us. He completed me. I didn't need to or want to have sex with anyone else.

So when he asked me if I wanted to join him there in Seattle I begged off, saying I had too much work and couldn't really get away. I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't want to be put in a position of being pressured to go through the experience again.

I didn't want to be the girl who said "no." If I didn't go, I couldn't be that girl.

Steven said he understood that my work was important and respected my decision to stay home.

When he left early that week I missed him terribly. For the next day or two I vacillated between "This is good and maybe we need the time apart." and "I need him. I need him now."

Later in the week I changed my mind: I called him to tell him I'd be joining him for the weekend. He was delighted. I found a great last-minute fare and late Friday morning I took off for Seattle.

Things went the way I'd hoped, at least at first. The weekend in Seattle was overcast with sprinkles and mist. The two of us walked around the city, had great seafood in some nice restaurants, had coffee by a fireplace in a café and even took the ferry ride across the Puget Sound and back. All very romantic.

We had a flight back late in the day on Sunday so we slept in and ordered room service.

As we were finishing up breakfast, there was a knock on the door. Figuring that it was the room service folks retrieving the remnants of our breakfast, I went to the door in my nightgown with a tip in my hand.

It was a surprise to see a small group of guys standing there. I clutched at my thin silk nightie as they stared at me. Two of them looked familiar. Then I remembered Jerome and Mark from our little cum quartet in Miami back in June.

"Hi. What's up? Do you want Steven?" I said.

I turned around and saw Steven close behind me.

"I thought it would be a nice way to wind up the weekend. You'd probably like some more of what you had in Miami? You know, with the emphasis on 'more'?"

My mind, my emotions, my sanity: all of it just came tumbling down. In one precipitous crash. Did I know this man? Was he the loving partner I had thought? Wasn't Miami a fluke? A bit of serendipity?

I guessed it was not. He was still clutching firmly to his fantasy world. What could I do to retain my integrity, my pride, and my sense of self while also keeping whatever I thought I had with Steven from being tossed onto the trash heap of worst-ever relationships?

Turning around to directly confront him, I simply said, "Steven, what are you doing?"

"It's for you, honey. I know you don't like to admit it, even to yourself, but you are so into these fantasies, even more than I am. You want this."

"Really? Steven, you know I do these obsessive semen things just for you. I'm not doing them for me." I said, aware that the guys in the doorway were becoming restless. "Is this really what you want for me?"

"If you don't want it, fine. I'll just tell them to go away. We can go back to our normal relations. But I know you're going to miss it."

I was hurt and confused and felt pressured to make a decision, right there on the spot.

The situation was awkward and I felt manipulated by it, especially with his colleagues now standing, uninvited by me at least, in the room. I whispered to Steven that I would simply watch them jerk off. I didn't want to be a part of this at all.

"You don't even need to do anything, Patrice," he tried to comfort me. "I'll put on some porn for the guys and it'll excite them just knowing you're there encouraging them."

Needless to say, that wasn't how things played out. It was a repeat of Miami, but with more than twice as many guys and more than twice the semen.

They entered and there were Jerome and Mark from Miami, along with new guys: Carl, Burt, Hank, and Milt. Just as Steven was closing the door, Shane popped in. Shane of the enormous cock.

Just seeing him—and he really wasn't much to look at—got me surprisingly excited. The desire to see his cock overwhelmed me. I almost said that out loud.

They all sat wherever they could and Steven put on some porn. It actually started with a little bit of a story, showing an attractive and shapely woman walking in tights and a T-shirt. Then there were a bunch of guys in a van following her, discussing her cute butt.

"What is it with men that they can just stare at a woman's behind or her breasts?" I asked them before they got their equipment out.

Burt said, "You just have to watch the way she moves, her legs, her butt, everything. It's compelling. Sometimes I'll see a really hot woman, and man! Before I know it I've driven right past where I was headed just to keep watching her."

The others all agreed, explaining that a woman's body has that effect on men. Not every woman's body, but if she's hot then it's hard to not stare or even just look.