I love it when Skankeralla tells this story:
Sexually explicit stuff ahead:
Several years ago, I was living with a guy; we'll call him Oliver.
Oliver was a sexually adventurous guy...when he was horny.
When Oliver was horny, he wanted to do and try all kinds of crazy, wild things. As soon as Oliver had an orgasm, though, he became as uptight as a nun.
He told me once that the only reason men kiss, fondled and cuddled with women was to get them into bed. Men want to get in and get out and be done with it, he said. I believed him.
One night, he was enjoying my fellatial attentions rather enthusiastically. He got very excited and whispered to me, "Don't swallow me at first. Come up here and kiss me."
I was surprised. He wanted to snowball? Oliver? Wow!
Far be it from me to deny him this new adventure.
So when the time came and I had a mouthful, I climbed toward him, ready to press my lips against his, open my mouth and....
When we made eye contact, I could see the terror. I knew that as soon as Oliver orgasmed, the idea of having his own jizz in his mouth was not as appealing as it was when he was in the throws of fellatial passion.
He shook his head in violent jerks, his eyes wide and his mouth moving silently trying to find the words to say what his eyes were conveying to me: "Dear God, no!".
I found this all extremely hilarious: me climbing up his body with a mouthful of splooge and his abject terror.
I felt the laughter bubbling up and before I could control myself I busted out laughing, spraying his man juices all over him, the pillows, the headboard.
Man, that stuff is hard to get out of your hair.
Post a Comment