When I was younger, 18 or so, I went on a few dates with a guy I had known a year. I guess he would have been 22 or 23. He was a friend of my older brother. In fact, most of the guys I dated were friends of my older brother. You think I would have learnt but I never did. My brother didn't keep friends for long so there was always a fresh supply of new talent around for me to chose from. Maybe I should have questioned why my brother never kept most of his friends around for long. I just assumed that boys don't form bonds like girls do. Even now days I listen to half of a phone conversation between Mac and one of his mates and I seriously wonder what they talk about. I figure it is not much. Most of it is a series of Neanderthal grunts that they somehow decipher into conversation. From later questioning I have pieced together riveting conversations that go like this:

Mac: lo?
Other: Lo, It's Jim.
Mac: uh?
Other: Pub 3pm?
Mac: Mhm.
Click.

That conversation means that it is Jim He is talking to, there are plans for everyone to meet at the pub at 3pm and this is to Mac's satisfaction and He will be there. Of course I am assuming that Jim is that lucid, he probably isn't. If that was a one off, I wouldn't worry about it, but it is the majority of the phone conversations that He has with His friends, including everything from just going to the pub to an announcement of an engagement or birth of a baby. It all gets the same treatment on the phone. If Mac worked for a government agency, there would be no worry about a phone tap. If they actually did manage to catch any secret information, they would still have trouble breaking through the grunting code. (I think I went off on a tangent.)

Now, where was I? Oh yes, the dates with the brother's friend. Yes. I went on three, and the one I want to talk about was the last one. We went out to dinner. It was nice. We had previously been out to a party and to the movies together so there was enough of a banter between us to avoid those awful 'Oh Christ, now what do I say' silences. I liked this guy. It wasn't love, but he was sweet and funny and he was nice to me and I was thinking that I could get to really like this guy. After dinner he drove back to his place where we were going to watch a video before he took me home. I expected that he thought he was going to get laid and I had already decided that He would get a blowjob and nothing more. Back when I was 18, a blowjob was no where near as big a deal as intercourse and it was a compromise, I wasn't really having sex, but I was thanking him for a nice few dates.

So we were watching the movie and we snuggled up together. He kissed me and I kissed him back. My hand wandered to his groin and he let it. I removed his cock from his pants and he gasped. I kissed him, his lips, his chin, his neck and chest while I played with his cock. He seemed to enjoy it. When I took his cock into my mouth, he shook. Not just a little shiver, his whole body rocked. It was a wonderful feeling.

He put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me onto him. He came quickly. Like a good girl, I swallowed. I licked him clean. I moved back up his body. Now up to this point, he was a very willing participant. I never did anything to him he wasn't very happy for me to do. In fact, he had encouraged it. I lent over to kiss him and he did possibly the worst thing one can do at this very intimate moment.

A fleeting look of horror crossed his face and he turned away.

I pretended not to be bothered by this and excused myself to the bathroom. I was seconds away from crying. He made me feel dirty. Not dirty in a good way, but somehow unclean. We never dated again.

This was not the first time that I had that experience. There were guys when I was younger that refused to kiss after oral sex. It always bothered me then too. Why is it ok for them to put their penis into my mouth, but not ok for them to kiss me after I have had it in there? What is it that is so gross about their own body that I become defiled just by having done something they wanted me to do?

I have to wonder what those men were afraid of? Is it that some of their own semen will make it into their mouths?

I know that semen doesn't exactly taste like chocolate. Heck if it did, you guys would be exhausted by the constant supply we would require from you and none of it would ever get to the place it is supposed to be to ensure survival of the species. Thing is though, it doesn't taste any nicer to me than it would to you so why should I be expected to have in my mouth what you wont take into your own? I am not saying that every guy should taste his own semen. I am not even going to recommend that each man put some on his tongue (though really, it wont hurt you). All I asked for from this guy was a kiss after I had cleared my mouth of his come. At the very most, all he would have gotten was a slight hint at what he tasted like and it would have made him a much nicer guy. It may even have gotten him laid. It definitely would have gotten him another date. So if a girl is sweet enough to give you that pleasure and she does it while looking up at you like you are god, then please, show her how much you appreciate it. Kiss her face, kiss her lips, tell her it was lovely and chances are she will want to do it for you again sometime. Lets face it she was down there for you.

Mac is not afraid of semen, His own or anyone else's. He has taken His own semen from my mouth and spat it onto my pussy. He has taken His own semen from my pussy and played with it the same way. On the odd occasion when we have had sex with a man or two that we trusted, Mac has taken their semen from my mouth and into His own and used it to make me come. And if they have come inside me, He will go down on me and suck and lick and spit until I cry from the pleasure I feel.

I find this so sensual. It makes me feel so beautiful, almost like anything that is taken into my body becomes a part of me and anything that is a part of me can't be bad. Mac isn't bisexual. He isn't at all attracted to men. He has told me before that it disappoints Him that He isn't. He tells me to imagine the possibilities if He was. He has no interest in making other men come, He has no interest in other men touching Him, but He is fascinated and extremely turned on by the thought of another's semen inside me.

So yesterday He told me He wanted me on my knees, holding His cock and licking across the head of it. He told me that I wasn't to stop or change a thing if He came. He has been constantly on the verge of orgasm of late. I have had to do very little to tip Him over the edge. So I knelt before Him and I took His cock in my hands and suddenly He changed His mind. He told me to lie back on the bed and He sat astride me. He put my hands on His cock and He told me to jerk Him. He slapped me over and over again. He slapped my tits. He slapped my face. I moaned and jerked His cock. I rubbed my thighs together and I came. He laughed and slapped me again.

He asked if I would be able to come if my legs were forced apart and I moaned at Him that I didn't think I would. He lent down close to my ear and used His wickedest of voices.

'Unless we had you fucked.'

He sat up again and told me that He would make me lay on the edge of the bed with a man, any man between my legs. Mac would sit astride my chest just as He was doing and He would slap my face and tits, and make sure I never saw the owner of the cock inside me.

'Would you like that slut?'

Slap.

'Yes Sir.' I whimpered.

Slap.

And still I rubbed my thighs together and again I came, still jerking His now engorged cock.

'Six or seven men,' He said. 'All filling you with their come.' Slap. 'Do you think you would ooze come?' Slap. 'Do you think the semen from the one before would leak out around the next ones cock?' Slap. 'You would like that, wouldn't you?' Slap. 'Come-hungry little whore.'

He moved then, changed positions so He was over me, His cock fucking my mouth while He played with my pussy. He told me that if six or seven men had fucked me and I was oozing their semen, He would want to suck on my cunt. I shivered. He covered me with His mouth and He sucked and while I convulsed beneath Him He flooded my mouth with His come.

When we had both stopped shuddering He moved up the bed and stroked my hair while He kissed me, His tongue deep in my mouth. Then He lay beside me smiling at me while He caught His breath. There was a look of adoration in His eyes.

He never makes me feel unclean, even when I am being a dirty little whore. That allows me to be dirtier with Him than I have ever been with anyone before.

That is something we both get to enjoy.