Twenty Cups Ch. 03

Author's Note: I intended on getting this chapter out much sooner, but fell very ill. Please forgive any errors, regular editor quite busy.

***

After I put the container in the freezer, I took a quick shower. Mom was still resting in my room, curled up on my bed. So, I went downstairs and laid on the couch, naked under a blanket.

A few minutes later, I listened to footsteps in the upstairs hallway, walking out of my room and towards the master bedroom. Then, I heard the shower running.

I watched tv, waiting for her. When she finally came down, I felt nervous. She'd told me, after I ejaculated all over her back, that she wanted to discuss something. I knew it wouldn't be good; I kept pushing the limits she placed on us.

Mom went directly into the kitchen, and I listened as she opened the freezer. She was checking the sample. The freezer door closed, and she came into the family room.

"Baby?"

I looked at her.

"I don't appreciate how you chose to twist my rules around."

"I'm sorry."

"Why did you do it?"

"Wanted to taste it again."

The hint of a smile twitched upon on her lips before she turned away. "You...you still enjoy the taste of my special place?" She glanced back at me.

I nodded.

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. Shaking her head, she offered, "It is possible that my rule is unfair to you—you're a curious boy who's trying to learn, aren't you?"

I nodded. "I really, really like it."

She pursed her lips. "I need to think about this."

I nodded. "Did it feel good, Mom?"

"Yes, baby. You gave me an orgasm."

I smiled.

Her face grew deadly serious. "But, I will not—repeat: not—be allowing you to have sexual intercourse with me. Under no circumstances are you to attempt to mount me. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yeah."

"Very well. Tomorrow, you're on your own. I have been invited to a seminar at the Women's Hospital, and Lia wishes to join me. The day after that, you know, is Christmas Eve. I may be available."

"Okay."

"We will likely have a guest over Christmas, so that day may be tricky."

"Oh, no. Her again?"

Mom nodded. "She's going to go on her cruise again this year, and she wanted to visit us before heading out. One night is all."

I sighed.

"Be kind to my sister, baby. She loves us. She truly does."

"If she's nice to you, I'll be nice to her."

"Be nice anyways."

I reluctantly nodded.

"Thank you," she sighed.

I nodded, and then I said, "Mom?"

"What is it?"

"Do you like the taste of my penis?"

"Of course, I do. Why? Does that worry you?" she asked, concerned.

I shrugged. "What about my semen?"

"Why, yes. Baby, there's nothing about you that a woman would find repulsive."

"You don't mind when my sperm is in your mouth?"

She moved towards me. "Not at all, though it can be hard not to accidentally swallow any."

I thought about this for a moment, and then I asked, "Will you swallow my sperm now, Mom?"

She glanced back toward the kitchen momentarily, and her response was immediate and definitive. "We can't waste a good sample like that. No."

"No. I mean, not from a container. Right now. Here."

Her head turned sideways, and she gave me a doubtful glance. Then, shaking her head, she said, "Baby, it isn't proper for you to request that of me. I help you for the samples, not for your sexual urges."

I laid silently.

"Why are you asking for this?"

I said, "It feels ready again and...I just want to know what it would feel like for a woman to swallow it."

She hesitated. "I...I like that you want to learn, but..."

"And when you spit it in the cup, it makes me feel like it's no good."

"I have to, baby. We need the samples. If I could swallow your sperm, I would."

I nodded at the floor, understanding, but disappointed.

I felt her watching me. When I glanced up, her face was all sympathy and compassion. "May I have a look at your testicles?" she asked, walking to me and kneeling beside the couch.

Laying on my side, I raised the blanket.

She reached out and felt my balls, rolling them in her fingers. She examined them carefully and said, "They may be a bit heavy." She glanced up at me.

"Will you do it, Mom?"

She gently squeezed my testicles. Watching her fingers undulate on my scrotum, she admitted, "It is possible that your previous orgasm was incomplete."

"Think it was," I muttered, feeling my penis expanding.

She drew her hand away from me. "So, you're proposing that I perform fellatio on you in order to provide relief?"

"Yeah."

"And you would like me to swallow your semen to learn how that feels?"

I nodded.

"Very well. I will help you this once." She scooted her body up against the couch and leaned forward. She stopped and looked up at me. "I'll begin by exciting your testicles to ensure your next orgasm is very strong." She turned her head sideways and said, "Open your legs, baby."

I did.

Her face went between them, and Mom softly kissed and licked my scrotum. I felt her hot breath in my groin. I heard the little smack of her kisses and the slow, sticky lapping of her tongue. I let out a long breath, but stopped.

Mom had just drawn one of my testicles into her mouth, and I felt her suck on it. She swallowed, tugging it toward the back of her throat. I heard the guttural cluck, and then my testicle fell from her lips. Soon, her mouth clamped around the other one, and she sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed. It ached like a hollow hole in my gut, but my erection surged and flexed at the sensation. I groaned.

She let it slip free and came out from between my legs. She looked at me, "Ready?"

I nodded.

She took the head of my erection into her mouth, humming softly. Her neck craned forward and drew back. It was goose-like, the movement. I caught her eye, and she pulled off.

Her voice barely reached beyond a whisper. "I was just thinking about when you were a baby, breastfeeding you. You fed from my body. And I was thinking that here I am, now, about to feed from yours." Her delicate little fingers brushed across my penis.

I nodded. "Wish I could still drink your milk."

"I know. I miss it, too." She turned from me, looking at my erection. "Feed me, baby." She opened her mouth and waited.

I urged my hips to her, and she stretched her lips around the tip. She guided my hips back into the couch, taking control, and continued goose-necking my erection. I grumbled and groaned, listening to her wet sloshes and throat gurgles.

She pulled off, and huffed, "It tastes wonderful." Cat-like, she licked the tip few times and turned to me. "Your penis is like a thick steak dinner." She opened wide and nursed on the tip for a few moments. When she released it, she turned to me. "So hearty and filling."

I nodded.

She took my erection back into her mouth, riding it with her head in long, sweeping movements. Half of it was wet with her saliva. My heart began to drum along more quickly, and my head felt light and dizzy. Mom stopped.

"It feels like you may be ready," she cooed.

"Please, Mom. Don't stop again."

"Okay, just relax and feel me swallow it." Her face turned to my erection, and she went to it. I grunted. I lasted maybe ten seconds.

My hands gripped and held her head, and my penis let slip volley after volley of semen. I felt the undulations of her tongue and throat, gathering and gorging. Each time she swallowed, she moaned as if savoring a rich dessert. Feeling her body take in my orgasm—absorb and incorporate it—when I was so used to it being detained and held, made me cry out.

My erection surged a few more times in her mouth, and I let out a gasp. Her fist gripped the shaft and milked up the final drops. I watched her cheeks sink into her jaw from the suction, and I saw her throat rise and fall one last time. She drew back, kissing the tip.

"Better?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Good," she said with a smiling sigh. "I've got it all in my tummy." Sitting on her heels, she glanced down at her stomach. Then, she began slowly caressing her belly and gazing at it, almost cherishingly, like a newly pregnant woman.

***

At dinner that night, there was great consternation from Lia and Emma about the imminent arrival of Aunt Blair on Christmas Eve. Mom did her best to demand our polite behavior and defend her sister.

We knew better.

Blair was subtly awful to Mom. She was Mom's younger sister, but she acted like she was the elder. Blair wasn't a nurse; she was a doctor. It often seemed like she lorded that over Mom—as if Mom was never smart enough to go to medical school, or as if Mom was so much of a soft-hearted pushover that she could only be a nurse, never a doctor, which was total crap.

Blair was never married. Her work was too important, she'd say. She was too busy with her research and her practice.

She went on a Caribbean cruise over the holidays every year. It was strange because she always went alone. She never took a friend, never invited us to join her. But, depending on the sail date, she always tried to visit us before she left. So, she'd fly in, stay a day or so, make us all angry, and fly out.

***

I woke up late the next morning, having played games at a friend's house until well past two. It was just after ten—time for my next sample.

I sat up in bed and threw my legs over the side, extremely groggy. The next sample container was sitting on my desk with a note.

It read, "At a conference with Lia. Make sure it's a good one, baby. Mom."

I tossed the note on the desk and listened, absolutely still.

The house seemed entirely empty, but was Emma here?

On my way to the bathroom, I peeked into Emma's bedroom. She shifted in her sleep, so I turned and left.

When I returned to my room, I climbed into bed with the sample container beside me.

I sighed and began to reach for myself under the sheets.

There was a knock on my door.

"Huh?" I called, sitting up.

The door opened, Emma's face, framed in frizzy bed-disheveled hair, peered around it. "Can I come in?" she asked. Her voice trembled.

"I'm about to...you know."

"I know. Can we talk...just for a couple minutes?"

I nodded, swinging my legs over the side.

She came in, dragging herself, and sat on the bed beside me. She laid her head on my shoulder and started crying. I held her.

"He broke up with me—Kevin. Last night."

"Sorry, Em."

"I quit giving him...you know, and I wouldn't have sex with him because he wouldn't...you know...do me."

I laid her down, covered her in my fuzzy blanket, and slid in behind her. Her hair was in my face, tangling itself in my whiskers. I didn't mind this time. She smelled good.

"He's a total asshole," she said, as if deciding, finally.

I flinched at her language. It always surprised me at first, her cursing. Then, I rubbed her shoulder.

"I'm going to say something, and I don't care if you think it's gross," she began, "I sucked his cock, like, every night since I got home from school. I treated him like a fucking prince, and he still wouldn't give it to me." She stopped, sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "All he wanted me for was blowjobs. I started feeling like his little slut, and there was no way I was going to let him fuck me, and when I told him, he broke up."

"Sorry," I muttered. Wrapping my arm around her tummy and nuzzling into her hair, I held her in silence.

A few minutes later, she said, "Thank you for being here for me, fuzzy boy."

I grunted.

"Are you and Lia in love?"

My eyes shot open, and I drew back from her. Emma must have felt it, she turned around.

"No," I said. "She just...Mom had her watch once to see and...one time Mom couldn't be here and she told Lia to make sure I did it right and...we wanted to learn."

"It was beautiful seeing you together. I know that's gross. I don't care." She looked up at the ceiling, as if remembering. "I thought you were going to have sex with her. She's still a virgin."

"Me, too."

"Me, three," Emma uttered, and we both chuckled half-heartedly. She rolled on her side again, back to me. She said, "Can I ask you something?"

I held her close and grunted.

"Did you like licking her pussy?"

I nodded. "A lot."

"What about her ass?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Emma was quiet for a short time, and then she asked, "Are you getting a hard on?"

"Talking about sex, " I mumbled. "Being close like this."

"Care if I stay here and watch you do it?"

"Huh-uh."

She rolled on her back. I grabbed the container and unscrewed it. Putting the lid on Emma's belly, I lifted my hips up and slid down my shorts. Then, I took the container in hand and tossed the blanket off of myself. I felt Emma's gaze on my body.

I wasn't fully erect, but I grabbed my penis and began to stroke myself. Emma's smell and the feel of her body near mine helped.

"Yours is a lot bigger that Kevin's," she said, and her voice sounded hesitant. She rolled on her side, facing me, and scooted closer. I felt her breast on my arm.

My penis finished filling out and growing hard. I massaged it as Mom had shown me, but I was more forceful. It would have felt strange, treating my body with the same tenderness that Mom and Lia had.

Emma spoke, barely louder than a whisper, "The tip is so wide and smooth."

I continued stroking.

Emma scooted down a little and rested her head on my shoulder. "Is that how you always masturbate?"

I didn't respond.

"Oh, you don't like to do it, do you?" she answered for herself. "But, when you do, is that how you do it?"

"I guess."

"That's like what I did to Kevin. I think I was doing it about the same."

I was taking long, silent breaths. Everything was beginning to feel good.

"Do you ever do it with two hands?" she asked.

"No."

"You could," she remarked.

I smelled light, floral perfume. Her cheek felt warm on my shoulder, and her breath almost tickled as it ran over my skin. One of her nipples, I felt, hardened on my arm.

I liked how she watched my penis, and how, every so often, she looked up at me.

I heard Emma swallow. Then, her voice stammered and broke when she whispered, "C-Can I...." She cleared her throat and gulped. "Care if I feel how hard it is? Just for a second?"

I let go of my penis, and it dropped toward my stomach.

Emma's hand reached for it. She squeezed it between her fingertips and her thumb before wrapping her digits completely around it. She raised it up. "Yeah, Kevin's gets hard like this. Yours is maybe a little harder. It's way more thick." She let it down.

I took it up and began masturbating again. More slowly now.

Emma's body moved. It snuggled and inched down. Her face was more on my chest than my shoulder now. One of her breasts rested on my bicep. Her silky leg rubbed up and down my shin.

She spoke with hesitance. "Can I...can I show you how I did it to Kevin? See if I'm doing it right?"

I nodded and let go.

She took the shaft in her fingers and tugged the skin, stroking it three or four times. I sucked in a gulp of air.

"Feel good?" she asked.

I nodded.

She released my penis and adjusted her body, again, inching down another fraction.

I grabbed the base of my erection with my thumb and two fingers. I raised it to vertical.

My penis, a heavy column of throbbing flesh, waited on her.

Emma looked at it. In her airy, near-whisper, she said, "It's so majestic." A few moments later, she sat up. "Care if I look at it more closely?"

I shook my head.

She sat on her knees beside me. "Your balls are huge," she uttered, and her fingers glided all over my scrotum, lifting it and rolling each testicle on her fingertips. "Kevin's are like robin's eggs."

I nodded.

She raised my erection high and bent over it. Her nose brushed against the head, and I felt air pass over it when she whiffed. She let out her breath and said, "I like it. It's better than Kevin's. He smelled like pee and cologne; you smell like...I don't know...sex."

She began to stroke me, and I sighed and grumbled at the feel of her soft hand. Her eyes locked onto my erection.

"I want to kiss it," she softly declared.

I watched her bend down. I saw her lips press together and fatten. They pushed against the smooth, swollen head, and then I heard the tiny smack of her kiss. She looked at me.

I nodded.

Her lips gently pressed against it, again and again. She kissed my penis everywhere, like it was her baby or her lover. When she quit, she looked up at me and asked, "Care if I...if I give you a blowjob?"

I shook my head.

Emma pulled my legs apart and sat between them. Her head descended, and I heard her take a quick gasp of air as her jaw fell open and the head of my penis disappeared into her mouth.

She felt like Mom and Lia at first. Her lips softly clasped the head and a bit past it. Then, things changed.

My penis was vanishing into Emma's mouth. The sight paralyzed me. I sucked a gulp of air and released it in a long, low growl. She didn't stop at the halfway point; she kept gathering more and more. When she stopped, nothing but a few inches of my erection showed. The front of my penis was somewhere beyond her mouth and throat; it was lodged in her neck, nestled into her esophagus.

I was panting, and the feel of her lips so deep on my penis put me in a kind of pleasure coma. My entire body felt like a lit stick of dynamite, fizzling toward a massive detonation. Emma would not even need to move.

I watched my erection suddenly reappear, shining with saliva. Emma gasped for air.

I had been biting the pad of my thumb. I drew it out and muttered. "Again, Emma."

She smiled, gripping my penis. "Can I tell you something?"

"Huh?"

"I never told Kevin, but I love giving head. I might have even kept doing it if he hadn't broken up with me. I mean, he's a total asshole, and he never ate my pussy, so I was never going to let him fuck me, but I loved it that I had a cock to suck on every night."

I nodded. "Again."

She tilted her head to the side, opened her mouth, and sucked the underside, just beneath the tip. Her lips slid down the shaft and back up. I could see her lips, fattened and pushed out, on either side of my penis. Straightening up, she opened wide and engulfed my erection. Her head slowly fell toward my belly. I gasped at the view of my penis disappearing inside her mouth, at the feel of the head of my erection slipping up her throat, spreading it wide.

My heart hammered. My head buzzed. I groaned, "Emma, don't swallow my sperm. We need it."

She nodded, and I watch her lips strain forward, reaching to gather the final few inches of my erection. She choked and drew back, but not off. I felt mucous-slick saliva slide from Emma's lips and pool in my little hairs. Her lips released me. I felt a rush of air, and then she plummeted down, down.

Adrenaline surged in my muscles, and I sucked air into my lungs, pumping in and out. My fingers searched for the container, found it, and clutched it against my hip.

"Emma, it's time," I gasped.

She didn't move.

I groaned, and then my penis felt like a hose. I wasn't firing pulses of semen into Emma; it was as if I were streaming ejaculate down her throat in an unbroken flow. When my erection squeezed, it didn't feel like it was disgorging another wave of sperm; it seemed more like I was momentarily arresting a continuous, throbbing flood.

The intensity of the orgasm lasted a few more seconds, and then it died away, leaving me only with a lingering empty buzz of pleasure.

I pushed the container against Emma's shoulder. She glanced at it and slipped off my penis, her lips pinched tightly together. She took the jar. Setting it on my thigh, she leaned over it, opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue, and...nothing happened. She wobbled her head a little, side to side. A few drops spilled down her tongue.