My wife takes me to cumsluts' heaven
So I went down on him. We both knew exactly what this was.
I did my best to worship him. To let him know that I wanted, I desired everything he was going to give. That I wanted nothing more. I was almost immune to the smell of cum by now. The smell of male desire. Powerful and unmissable. But it was there. Overpowering. I smeared his cock over my face, my lips and with my hand, I accompanied my mouth with a gentle swirl. I moaned like a cumslut should.
My wife was looking at me. I smiled at her. I had accessed a part of me that had always been repressed. All these people, and her, had made this possible. I almost wanted to cry through the crescendo that, for the first time in my life, I felt from the other side. I knew exactly how he felt. I had felt this exact feeling so many times before. But now, I was the one giving him the pleasure. I was the cock slut. The cum slut.
He became harder and harder. Tensing. I slowed down, teasing almost. Edging one last instant. And before the contractions, the spasmic eruption of sperm, he reached a frequency. His cock leaked cum. As if it were overflowing. I slurped loudly, drinking, waiting.
Waiting.
And he came. Rope after rope of cum. Directly in my mouth. Each spasm bulging against my lips, filling my mouth with what felt like thick, juicy, warm and wet cum. Pearly, white, creamy.