Cum eating boyfriend 15

"You were wonderful tonight, Bobby," purred my beautiful Tonya.

We were lying in bed after another long night on the town. We'd spent nearly
two hours parked at the drive-in while cock after cock appeared through the
car window for me to suck. And with Tanya softly begging me to do so, I
sucked off every one. I couldn't resist her.

Even now, her voice was so soft and loving. I could scarcely hear her quiet
voice as she lay with her head on my stomach staring at my stiff dick.
"You're incredible. Truly incredible, you know that, Bobby? I lost count of
how many nice, juicy dicks you sucked off tonight."

Eight. I didn't lose count. It was eight.

"It got me so hot watching you suck them, Bobby. I get the most delicious
twinges watching your cheeks puff out when they blow in your mouth. And my
whole pussy spasms whenever I see your throat muscles work as you swallow.
Those are the most delicious little orgasms. They get me sooo wet, baby."
She was dragging the back of her fingertips up and down my dick as she talked.
God, I was so hard.

She pressed her ear tight against my belly. "I can almost hear all those
little spermies wriggling around in your tummy. They must be so happy to
become a meal for someone who loves them as much as you do ... instead of
ending up inside a mean ol' girl like me who just wants them out of her body
as soon as possible."

Well, it's not like I wouldn't end up eating them afterward anyway, I thought
to myself sarcastically.

"But of course, they'd all end up down inside your belly anyway, wouldn't
they, Bobby?" she giggled, as if reading my mind. "Nothing keeps my baby from
swallowing down the cum -- no matter how far up inside my holes those big
dicks pump it."

My eyes rolled back in frustration. Was her *every* thought directed at
feeding me other men's semen?

"I'm so glad we can share your love of cumeating, baby," she answered as if in
confirmation to my thoughts. "It makes me so happy to give your faggot mouth
what it needs."

I sighed, but internally. I'd learned by now not to argue or even show any
demonstration of my frustration with these conceptions of hers. It usually
made things worse.

"But, baby," she said hesitantly, "sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough
for you. I mean look at this thing!" She lightly pinched the head of my dick
between the fingernails of her thumb and forefinger and shook it lightly.
"It's been two and a half weeks! It's swollen with blood like an engorged
tick -- and it's almost as big! I've been doing all I can to make you spew,
baby, but ... here we are! You've had an entire bellyful of sperm blasted
down your throat tonight, but ... nothing!"

Just that light touch made my dick twinge. "I ... I thought your mom was
going to talk to you about ... about what I nee-- "

"Oh, yes, mother said something about some kind of touching or holding or
something, Bobby, but we're beyond that sort of thing now! You've already
more than demonstrated that you can give both of us the kind of orgasms we
each deserve -- orgasms achieved at the exact moment your sissy tastebuds get
coated with sperm. Orgasms not caused by boring old physical sensations, but
more powerful ones derived from the other senses! Yours when you taste that
delicious shot of manjuice in your mouth and mine when I see that pale liquid
you call semen dribbling out of your hard, twitching dicklette. Don't you
understand that?"

She sure had a way with words. "But I ... "

"I know you can do it, Bobby!" she declared adamantly. "I know you can cum
the way you were intended to! Mom once suggested I lock up your pecker in one
of those control cages -- you know, turn you into a soft-sissy with balls as
blue as the ocean. But I talked her out of it, Bobby. I talked her out of it
because the beautiful little stiffy you get while sucking cock is one of the
best things about you! You know how important that is to me, right?"

"Yes," I replied blankly. 'Soft-sissy?' Holy shit.

"And I know the feeling of thick dick in your mouth turns you on, baby. The
way precum bubbles out of your little dick hole, sometimes I can't tell
whether or not you've cum." I felt a thrill through my body as her fingertip
circled the head of my dick, smearing the clear fluid around the tip. "See?
It's seeping out even now -- even though we're just talking about cocksucking.
You just can't help it, can you Bobby?"

"No," I admitted. God help me, she was right. I'd been rock hard all night.
Rock hard as I sucked off eight men.

"So why can't you cum for me??! Why can't you show me what you're really made
of? Why can't you show me that you're the kind of boy who cums like a banshee
as another man's semen slides down his throat? I know that's who you are,
Bobby. I just know it!"

"I ... I'm trying," I sobbed. "I want to, Tanya. I want to cum for you, but
... but ..." I broke down. The frustration was just too much. I started to
cry.

Tanya heard me and felt my chest heaving under her head. She turned over and
straddled my chest. "Oh, oh, there, there, baby. Don't cry, sweetie. I ...
I'm sorry. I ... I guess I'm asking too much."

She bent down and gently kissed my cheeks. As she tenderly pressed her lips
against my tears, her body slipped downward atop mine. I felt the heat of her
shaved pussylips as they pressed against the hard shaft of my dick. God, even
as she comforted me, she teased my poor prick.

"I know it's hard, baby," she continued. "I know you're trying. I ... I just
think of you as perfect, you know? I expect you to be a perfect little sissy
cocksucker with your mouth as your sole source of sexual satisfaction. And
that's ... that's selfish of me. Nobody's perfect, baby. Not even a truly
exceptional faggot like you. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry, ok baby?"

"I ... *sniff* ... ok."

"It's not fair of me to ask so much of you so soon, is it? I mean, you've
only been sucking cocks for a few weeks now, right? These things take time.
It'll be awhile before your body and mind learn that your mouth is now your
sole sexual organ. And so ... in the meantime ... I have a solution."

"You ... you do?" I sniffled. Again, for some reason, some strange hope rose
up in me that I'd actually get to have sex with her .... in some form.

"Yes, baby. I think you should masturbate. In fact, I want you to
masturbate. I can't stand to see you this way."

I should have known better. But, hey ... I'd take what I could get. "So ...
you want me to jerk off? And you want to watch?"

"Oh, God no!" Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I mean, I'd probably like
to watch someone with a real cock stroke it off, but -- watch someone
frantically slap away at a pathetic little weiner like that?! Ewwwww ... I
don't think so! No, Bobby, I have something else in mind. Are you ready to
hear my idea?"

"Um ... ok." The thought of 'something else' scared me, but at this point,
I'd do damn near anything.

Her face lit up. "Goodie! Wait right here! Mom and I have presents for
you!" With that, she bounced off the bed and disappeared out her bedroom
door. I heard some familiar mother-daughter shrieks and giggles come from
down the hall before she returned in an excited run. She was carrying a
couple of plastic grocery bags.

"Here you go, baby! Mom made you some special panties!" She pulled out a
scrap of white cloth as she dropped the bags on the floor beside the bed.

My eyes widened in horror at the word 'panties'. "No ... no, I dont want to
wear panti--"

"Oh, stop your fussing. They're not like the pretty pink ones you picked out
for yourself before. These are just some of my plain old white ones. But
with a special modification just for you!"

She proudly held them up in front of her. As she'd said, they were a simple
white pair of girl's underwear, but with a perfectly round hole in the front.
I squinted as I tried to examine the design.

She bounced onto the bed. "See, Mom sewed a little rubber ring into the
front. If she did everything right, it should slip around your thingy nice
and tight. The panties are mine so they'll be small on you. Then, when you
get hard, it will tighten up even more!"

I grimaced slightly.

"Don't you understand, Bobby? You said something to Mom about liking the
'tightness' around your pecker. So now when my pussy contracts and floods
your mouth with semen or when a cock blows its load in your throat, your
little dickie won't just have to twitch all alone like before. It'll have
this extra tightness to help you cum! Isn't that great!?"

I have to admit I was conflicted at this moment. I was truly desperate to
cum, but ... panties? However, my own desperation betrayed me and I felt my
dick twitch in anticipation.

"Oooh! I can see that Mr. Pinky down there is excited! C'mon, baby ... let's
try them on!"

With that, she reached down into another of the plastic bags. I felt an
intensely cold wetness as she flopped an icy wet towel into my lap.

"Wooof!" I grunted.

"Oh, sorry, baby. But this thing will really only go on when you're at least
half soft."

I groaned in misery, but the cold did cause my hardon to droop significantly.

"That's a good boy," she whispered. "Now, get up and step into your panties."

I grimaced at her continued use of that word, but ... I'd learned not to argue
with her when she was excited about something. I did as she asked. As she
pulled the underwear up my legs, she pinched the head of my dick between her
fingers and poked it through the rubber-ringed hole. Then she tugged on the
head until the ring slid about halfway down my dick. That was more attention
than she'd given the thing in weeks. Soft as I was, I still felt pleasureable
twinges -- just from her touch. I got hard again almost instantly -- just in
time for her to stop touching it.

"There! God, it's perfect, Bobby! Look at it -- it makes your winky seem
even smaller than it already is!", she said sounding obviously quite pleased
with that fact.

I looked down and saw immediately what she meant. The rubber ring -- it was
just an o-ring like from the auto parts store -- gripped my dick tightly about
halfway down its length. The fabric of the panti-- .. I mean 'underwear'
stretched outward to meet it leaving only half my dick protruding outside. It
sure did make it look rather stubby.

"And with just your dickie sticking out the hole, it looks like you've got no
balls whatsoever! God, I LOVE it!" she squealed. "Come over here in front of
the mirror and look at yourself, Bobby!" She beckoned for me to step in front
of the full length mirror on her door. I did as requested. "Perfect, Bobby!
You look just perfect!"

Shaved and naked except for a pair of girl's panties with only a stub of my
hard dick stretched tight and sticking out through the front. She had a
strange idea of perfect.

"Now kneel down."

"Huh?"

"Kneel down, Bobby. How can you properly fantasize if you're not kneeling
down?"

I didn't understand, but I got down onto my knees.

"Oh, yeah," she purred. "That's right ... hands at your sides. Now do that
little twitching trick with your dick -- like you showed my mom."

I tensed up the proper muscles and ... holy shit! The ring held my dick
tightly causing the skin to stretch tightly over the head ... and it felt good!

"OH!" she shouted. "It's working! It's working, isn't it??!"

"Y-yeah," I agreed. "I ... I think so." I twitched again. Oh, yes ... it
did feel good. I watched in the mirror as the head swelled slightly, the skin
stretched taut.

"Look at it, Bobby! Look at it in the mirror!" She stepped behind me and
bent down so her head was next to mine. "God, your pecker looks *beautiful*
like that!" she whispered as we watched my reflection.

Now I couldn't stop myself. These were actually the first pre-orgasmic
feelings I'd felt in weeks. I kept twitching my dick -- watching in the
mirror as the protruding stub bounced up and down.

"Do ... do you think you can cum, Bobby?" she whispered ... almost begging.

"Yes, I ... I think I can. I think I can," I muttered mantra-like. Oddly, it
seemed to take great effort to keep moving those muscles. My heart started to
race. My breathing faltered. This was a lot of work!

"Yes, Bobby. Do it. Cum. Cum for me," Tanya's hand had moved to her crotch.

I kept going. Kept trying. Kept flexing and pumping those muscles. Again.
And again. And again. My whole body started heaving with effort. This ...
could work, but ... almost there. Breathing heavily, I looked away from the
mirror and up at her with frustrated eyes. I stopped and slumped over
slightly, catching my breath.

Her excited look faded slightly. "Don't worry, Bobby. We'd have been shocked
if you'd have done it right out of the gate." Then the sparkle returned to
her eyes. "That's why I brought something I KNOW will help!"

As she bounded away, I sat panting and staring at the pitiful scene in the
mirror. It couldn't get worse, could it?

"Ta-da!!" she reappeared behind me as I felt a swoop over my head. Suddenly,
there was something musky and sticky pressed against my face, covering my
eyes. I felt her adjusting something until ...

It was a jock strap. She'd pulled a jock strap upside down over my face and
was tying the leg straps tight behind my head. It was a ... used ... jock
strap.

"I swiped this from Malph in the lockerroom after we fucked today. Then I
stuffed it inside my panties for the ride home. So it just *reeks* of
ballsweat, pussy, and semen -- all your favorites!" She sounded absolutely
giddy.

Still breathing heavily, the scents she described flooded my nostrils. They
were all very familiar scents by now. With the jockstrap centered on my face,
I could see my reflection through the legholes. God, how humiliating. How
pitiful. How ...

No!! No, please! Not that! Anything but that!

Tanya starting squealing with delight, actually jumping and clapping with glee.

As I inhaled the heady trio of aromas, my body started to ... react. Dammit
-- the only times I'd cum in months had been when inhaling one of those
smells, so now the combination of all three was ... giving me a hardon. Or
more correctly, a harder hardon. My dick swelled even further and twitched
involuntarily. My 'panties' kept the skin pulled tight and ... it actually
felt good. Fuck, she was right! It .. it was going to make me cum.

"Oh, God, Bobby ... you're going to cum, aren't you?"

"Nooo," I moaned. I wasn't answering her question. The scents in each breath
inward caused my dick to pulse and strain.

"Yes, you are! Oh my God, you are! C'mon, Bobby! You can do it!" She
dropped to the floor next to me to get a close up view. "Do it, baby!
Breathe in! Sniff that sweaty jock, my sweet faggot! Cum for me!"

Please, make it stop, I begged silently. She was right. I was going to cum.
I was going to cum with no other stimulation than a rank, sexual-juice soaked
jock strap on my face. My mind was horrified, but my body didn't care. It
felt too good. I tensed up and gave it a few last pumps. My dick surged. I
could feel it building. But then ... but then ...

... the ring slipped.

Tanya gasped, then huffed in disappointment.

No! No! Not now! Please, I was so close! The ring slid down my dick as it
strained upward. The skin wasn't pulled as tight, so ... no, please. I tried
harder. I tried to cum. The damp fabric of the jock strap was sucked tightly
against my face by my heaving breaths. My body bucked and thrashed furiously,
but this only served to make the ring slip further down. I looked at my
reflection. Most of my dick was sticking out now -- both it and my face were
purple with effort.

"Honey ... honey ... it's ok," Tanya said soothingly, but I could hear the
loss of excitement in her voice.

I gave it one last try, then hunched over in defeat. My head fell forward,
giving me a closeup view of my bulging hard dick. Even though the ring
position hadn't allowed me to cum, it still locked most of the blood inside.
My dick looked as big as it had ever been with bulging veins covering its
surface.

"Oh, sweetie," purred Tanya, still staring up close at the the swollen purple
shaft in front of her, "I can tell your pecker really, really likes your new
panties. It's so close to cumming, isn't it?"

"Y-yes," I practically whimpered.

"But it's just not right, is it, baby? It needs to grab a little tighter,
doesn't it? The hole needs to be smaller, right?"

"Uh huh," I agreed.

"You need smaller panties for your tiny, tiny little peepee, don't you baby?"

"Yes," I panted, still nearly delirious from lack of air.

"It's ok, baby. Mom has promised to keep working on the design. We'll find
the perfect sized ring for you. We'll make sure you can cum the way you were
meant to, ok?"

This time, I didn't answer. My eyes had locked again on the reflection in the
mirror before me. The defeated kneeling figure. The hands tightly gripping
the backs of my thighs ... to avoid gripping anything else. The swollen,
shiny dick. The pair of panties. The jock strap. Worst of all, the rank,
cum-coated jock strap.

"Ok, baby?" she repeated when she didn't hear an answer.

I still didn't answer. I simply sobbed.

"Oh ... oh honey! What's the matter?" She moved over and squatted down
behind me, pressing her body against mine. As I continued sobbing, she patted
my forearm. "Are you ok, sweetie?"

I continued staring at the pathetic image in the mirror. "LOOK ... at ...
me!!" I practically shouted.

Tanya jumped slightly at the sound of my shouting, then put her chin on my
shoulder, sharing my perspective at the reflection in the mirror. "I am
looking at you, honey. What's the matter?"

"I'm wearing a JOCK STRAP on my FACE! And I have a HUGE FUCKING HARDON!" I
screamed/sobbed. "I have a USED, STICKY ... jock strap ... on my head ..." I
started to break down. Tears streamed from my eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it 'huge'. I mean, it's really, really hard,
but--"

"TANYA!!"

She appeared momentarily surprised. "Oh, honey," said Tanya soothingly. "Shh
shh shh. Ok, baby. You're right. Shhhh. I ... I should have known. Baby,
look at me." She clasped my head between her hands and pulled my head toward
her. "Look at me."

As my gaze left the mirror and turned to her eyes, I actually saw a look in
her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. It was a look of ... apology.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said. She used the edges of the jock strap to dab
the tears off my face. Then with a tender look in her eye, she leaned in and
kissed me. On the lips. With the sticky fabric of the jock strap still
between us. I felt the cold paste of old semen press against my face from
chin to nose, but ... her kiss at that moment was exactly what I needed to
feel better.

"I should have known, baby. Can you forgive me?"

I nodded. She seemed truly sorry.

"I promise I'll make it right, baby. I promise. Do you believe me?"

I nodded again. Upon retrospect, I might have wanted to clarify at that
moment what she meant by 'make it right'. She let go of my head and pressed
my cheek against her busom. She began to rock back and forth, in a slow,
warm, comforting manner. I closed my eyes and rocked with her. I could hear
her heart beating. It felt ... nice.

"I should have known, baby. I should have known you wouldn't be satisfied
with such a cheap imitation. Especially before we got your panties the right
size."

It took a second for that to register, but when it did, one eye popped open.

"It wasn't fair of me to try to and give you a proper cumsucker orgasm under
these conditions. I mean, not only did mom overestimate the size of your
pecker, but you had to settle for a cold and damp substitute for the warm cum
you're so used to." She looked in to the eyes of my reflection. "How could I
have been so silly, baby?"

Wait a minute. Waaaaait-a-goddam-minute. She wraps a sticky, used jock strap
around my head ... and then when I get upset, she thinks it's because the
fucking cold, spermy goop it's coated with isn't FRESH ENOUGH??! God dammit,
that's enough, I thought. That's it. I've let her twist my words around and
ended up doing things I'd never even imagined, but ... it had to stop. It had
to stop here. I ... I started to say something. I was breathing in huffs as
I worked up the nerve to say what needed to be said. With each breath in, the
rank smell of sweat and stale semen reminded me that it was time to set things
straight. Saying anything to her about this made me very nervous, but it was
finally time. I felt sweat break out on my forehead.

"Listen, Tanya, I've been m-meaning to talk to you for awhile abou--"

"Y'know, Bobby, sometimes Mom says you're not really the faggot that I think
you are," she idly interrupted.

After building up the nerve to speak, I wasn't going to let her cut me off.
"No, Tanya, listen to me. I think you have the wrong impr--" Wait a minute.
Did she just say I *wasn't* a faggot? "What did you just say?" I asked.

"I know, Bobby. I hope you're not insulted, but Mom's told me that certain
things you say sometimes make her doubt that you're really the perfect
cumsucker that I've grown to love so much. She thinks that you don't really
love swallowing sperm as much as you claim. In fact, she thinks I'm putting
words in your mouth -- well, words and cocks -- and that you're just too quiet
and mousy to protest."

Oh my God! Yes! Yes, Mrs. K finally understood! Thank God! With Tanya's
mom on my side, this long ordeal could finally come to a close. My body
slumped with relief. "My God," I huffed out.

"Oh, Bobby, don't be disappointed," she said, touching my shoulder as she
apparently misinterpreted my reaction. "I've told her, Bobby." Her voice
sounded irritated. "I've told Mom time and time again that it's ridiculous to
think that you're just some WEAKLING who's too wimpy and frail to stop real
men from fucking his girlfriend. Isn't that crazy!?!"

The way she said 'weakling' sounded so ... harsh. "But Tanya ..."

"I know, Bobby. It's insulting! It's insulting to both of us to imply that
simple COWARDICE is why you've spent months letting any and everyone fuck me
silly."

'Cowardice'? That couldn't be ... damn. Her voice sounded so ... angry. I
tried to calm her down. "But .."

"Oh, I suppose I understand that it looks bad. I mean, when Mom's friends
come over to the house, you just sit there on the couch while they haul me off
and fuck me. In my pussy. In my ass. Every which way. And not only do you
not stand up for yourself, hell ... afterward, you kneel down and reward them
for fucking me." She tilted her head a bit in thought. "You suck the cocks
of the men you're too GUTLESS to stop from fucking your girlfriend."

"Tanya! No ... no please ... that's not how ..."

"I know, Bobby! It's ridiculous for Mom to see it that way! I mean, what
kind of girl would want to be with someone like that?"

*Gulp* "Tanya, wait ..."

"Oh, it makes me mad, too, Bobby. And get this, Bobby. She thinks you don't
even like eating cum! Can you believe it? She's saying you been sucking down
their leftover, sloppy, fuckslime simply because you're too goddam USELESS to
stand up for yourself and say it like it is. I mean, she's implying that you
are such a feeble PUSHOVER that you can't even tell me -- Me! Your
girlfriend! The love of your life! -- she's implying that you're too much of
a fucking WIMP to even talk to me and tell me that you don't like eating all
that warm, gooey semen."

Weakling. Coward. Pushover. Useless. Wimp.

Is that really how she'd see me? Is that really what she'd think of me if I
told her the truth? What would happen then?

"But, don't worry, Bobby. I told Mom. I told her that's not you. I told her
that I could never, EVER be so in love with a guy like that!"

My heart sank. As low and defeated as I felt when looking at the image in the
mirror, the thought of losing her love was worse. Maybe ... maybe I'd
overreacted.

"I mean, c'mon Bobby! With all those guys in school chasing after me, does
Mom really think I'd be with you if you were some SPINELESS PANTYWAIST??!
That's ridiculous, right Bobby?"

"R-right," I agreed, unsure of what else to do. I couldn't lose her now!
After all I'd done for her, I couldn't lose her over some ... simple
misunderstanding, right?

"You're not that 'weakling-Bobby' she thinks you are, right? You're the
'eager-little-cockgobbler-Bobby', aren't you? You're not some
'useless-coward-Bobby' who I wouldn't give an ounce of respect. No, you're my
'beautiful-cumsucker-Bobby' ... who I give EXACTLY the level of respect that
he deserves, right baby?"

"Yes, that's r-right." There was a bit of truth in that, I figured.

"I told her you're not gutless at all, Bobby. In fact, just the opposite."
She clenched her fists and looked upward as she spoke. "I told her that the
Bobby I love has BALLS!"

She paused dramatically, but then looked back at me as her hands dropped to
her sides. "Oh, not literally, of course. Don't worry, I just love how your
itty, bitty little nutbag hides behind these panties so it looks like it's not
even there. And I'm not even talking about a big, hairy nutsack like the ones
you love to lap and lick, Bobby. I'm talking figuratively. I'm talking about
'cajones'!" Her clenched fists rose again. "I'm talking about how you have
the 'testicular fortitude' to be just who you are. Isn't that right?"

"Of ... of ... of course," I stammered.

She reached behind my head and stroked my hair. "You, Bob Cocker, have the
gonads to admit just what a beautiful cumsucker you really are! It takes a
certain kind of person to get on your knees and happily slobber all over the
cock that just fucked your girl ... and you're just that type of person,
Bobby! You've proven it time and time again. You've demonstrated your love
of the cum that flows from my pussy and from the cocks that I shove down your
throat."

"R-right," I agreed halfheartedly.

"And these panties will give you the chance to prove yourself once again. I
know you'll be able to make them work, Bobby. Show my mom that you can cum
like a real cocksucking faggot should. Show her, Bobby! Show everyone! Then
the whole world will know just who you are. That you're not just some
wussyboy unable to fight for his own self respect. No, they'll see that
you're truly a cocksucker who knows just how to get his jollies the way he
should! By gulping down fuckjuice from his girl's fresh-fucked snatch and
from the cocks of the men who regularly put it there. It takes a special kind
of faggot to get off that way, Bobby, and everyone who sees that little rocket
blast off is going to know that's just what you are!"

I groaned a response -- neither negative or positive. I went from 'wussy
coward' to 'gulping down fuckjuice' ... and somehow this was better?

"There are so many supposed 'men' who are afraid to let the world know who
they really are, but not you, baby. You're not some sniveling coward -- some
closet cockcucker who's afraid to be seen with a little cum on his lips. No,
Bobby, you're just the type who is proud to swallow it down. Look, Bobby.
Look there in the mirror. That's who you are. You're my boyfriend! And my
boyfriend is on his knees. His little dickie so hard and desperate. Cum and
pussy and cocksweat smeared on his face. And mine! All mine! You're proud,
aren't you baby? You're proud to be my boyfriend. You're proud be all that
for me, right?"

I didn't answer. Could I really take pride in what I saw in the mirror?
Could I really be proud of that purple, straining hardon acheived by sniffing
a used, cummy jockstrap?

"I love you, Bobby. I love you for being this. I love you for being exactly
who you are. Tell me, Bobby. Tell me this is what you want."

"Yes. Yes, it is. Yes, it's what I want," I replied in a whisper. I knew it
was the answer she wanted to hear. I knew it was the answer that would let me
keep her. But ... part of me knew it was ... the right answer.

"So all that crying before ... that was because this wasn't a real cock, right
baby? What you really want is to get a fat, slobbery cock in your mouth and
fuck your face on it until it makes your stiff, untouched, lonely little
dickie blow all over the place, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I want," I nodded, tears in my eyes.

"And I want to make it happen for you, baby!" She hugged my head gleefully.
"You do deserve a proper orgasm. You know that, right sweetie? I want you to
cum! Haven't I made that clear? You deserve to cum, baby. There is no one
like you. You sooo totally deserve it, baby. You deserve to have panties
that will allow you to pump out your little boycream while swallowing the most
delicious loads of man-cum imaginable. You know I want that for you, don't
you my love?"

What could I do but nod? That was a totally accurate description of what she
wanted for me.

"I promise, baby. I promise we'll get it right for you soon. Do you believe
me?"

I nodded numbly. Of course, I believed her.

"I promise that you'll only have to practice a little while longer, ok? Mom
will keep working on the panties until she gets it perfect for your gorgeous
little pecker."

I continued nodding. I was eagerly agreeing to do the thing I'd hated most in
the world just moments ago. Dammit, how did she manage to do this every time?

"Then we'll get rid of that nasty jock strap and get a nice, warm, tasty cock
in your mouth, alright?"

I nodded more firmly. Anything was better than this thing on my face.

"In fact, I promise it will be Malph's cock exploding in your mouth that
brings you your first true cumsucker's orgasm, ok baby?"

Uh oh. "Malph?" I mumbled through the pasty fabric.

"Yes, baby. I know his cock is your favorite. I want it to be him standing
over you, looking down as you eagerly devour that massive fuckstick of his ...
until you both shoot your loads. His will fill your throat while yours
dribbles onto his shoes. It will be ..." she paused, then continued
breathily, " ... beautiful."

"But Malph will ... "

"Shhh shh shh. Don't worry, baby. This is all part of the pla-- ... I mean,
I think I have an idea that will make everything work out fine." She turned
my head away from her chest and looked me in the eye. "But it all depends on
you being able to make these panties work the way they're supposed to. Can I
count on you to work with Mom to get them just right?"

I hesitated. "Do you mean ..."

"Yes, baby, it means wearing a jock on your face while we test each pair of
panties."

I groaned.

"I know ... I know!" she stammered, almost nervously. She scampered around me
and sat cross legged, facing me. She took my hands in hers and shook them up
and down. "But I promise I'll bring you a fresh jock strap every day, ok?
I'll swipe another one from the locker room and we'll exchange them daily.
I'll reload one of them every time I fuck some of the football team, alright?
You won't have to deal with cum any more stale than this, ok?" She lightly
pressed her finger against my lips as she spoke, pressing the damp fabric
against them once again.

I just stared at her. Cum that was *only* as stale as the cold, rank wetness
being currently pressed against my face. Her words were almost unbelievable,
but ... she was asking so nicely.

"Please, baby?" she whimpered, her eyelashes batting questioningly.

* * *

Nine days later, I found myself kneeling in my own bedroom with two pairs of
undergarments -- neither of which was mine.

The lavender cotton panties with the lace ruffles around the legs were
Tanya's. After four tries, her mother had finally gotten the size and
stitching just right. Of course, she'd used up all of Tanya's plain, white
panties and had moved on to the more colorful ones out of necessity. At least
that's what she'd said.

I looked in the mirror at the semi-hard tuft of dick protruding through the
rubber-ringed hole. I tugged at the tip to position the ring about 1/3 of the
way down the shaft, just past the point where the skin became loose. When my
dick would harden, it would swell and the ring would grab tight and provide
just the right amount of tension. It was perfect.

The jock strap in my hand belonged to ... well, someone on the football team.
But the semen coating it belonged to Tanya's favorite fuck-buddy, Malph
Ludder. Even from here, I could tell by the scent. Malph's smelled heavier
than the others'. Muskier.

Better.

And the scent was ... amazing. As I lifted the sticky cloth to my face and
inhaled, I watched in the mirror as my pecker twitched in response. Just like
it had every night this week.

Dammit. Why did this have to feel so good?

I stretched the sticky jockstrap over my head and positioned the rank, sweaty
cup over my nose and mouth. As I inhaled through the fabric, my prick bulged
to its full hardness -- the rubber o-ring grabbing it tight.

Here, in my own bedroom, it was somehow easier to just ... enjoy the position
I was in. Kneeling. Staring into a mirror, watching my dick pulse and twitch
in response to the aromas filling my nose with each deep breath. Watching it
swell, held by the perfectly sized rubber ring sewn into my panties.

Yes, my panties. There was no doubt about that now.

I hated the way my body reacted, but I had to admit that ... part of me loved
it. I looked at the reflection of the pulsing, purple flesh poking through my
panties. How could I argue with a stiff, throbbing dick like that?

The last vestiges of resistance were fading. Tanya was right. She said there
was a 'different' kind of boy who got off on sucking cum ... and I was one of
them. I may not have liked that fact, but she was right. After days and days
of masturbating this way, I couldn't deny that the tastes and smells in my
face thrilled me. I wanted and needed the taste of semen. The smell of
semen. The thought of licking globs of it out of her pussy or sucking it hot
and fresh out of a spurting cock were irresistibly sexual to me right now.

As I looked at the hard-dicked, kneeling figure in the mirror, I knew that
Tanya had created it. She had made me this way. Sometimes I wondered if it
was all her doing ... or if I'd always been this way. Had she molded a
spermgobbling mouthpussy completely from scratch or had she actually unlocked
some inner semen-thirsty cumsucker that had always been there? I used her
words now. Freely. Eagerly. I knew she had put them in my head. I knew
she'd made me this way. And I didn't care. In fact, I loved her for it.

As my emotions for her filled my thoughts, my dick swelled even further with
sexual pleasure. I could cum. I could cum right now, if I wanted to.
Everything was just right. She'd said it was OK. She said it was alright if
I proved myself here -- alone in my bedroom. But I wanted to wait. Wait
until she could make the arrangements. And it was supposed to be tomorrow. I
could wait until tomorrow.

Finally, I drew in a deep breath and relaxed. As much as I was enjoying this
new form of masturbation, it was time to get some sleep. I stood up and
watched myself in the mirror as I gingerly pulled the ring in the panties off
my aching cock. I had to be careful; pull just a little too hard and I might
cum. But I managed it.

I reached up to pull the rank jockstrap off my face, but ... why not enjoy it
a little longer, right? After tomorrow, Tanya swore I'd never 'have' to wear
it again. I laid down in bed and tried to fall asleep. As my breathing
deepened, the continued surging of my dick told me I'd be sleeping on my back
tonight.

Tomorrow, I was going to cum. Finally, I'd get to cum. While sucking Malph's
cock. And not via some trick where I was cramped in a little car seat.
Tomorrow, I was going to suck his cock like it should be sucked.

And I could hardly wait.