Must Be Something Wrong with Me - Chapters 5 - 8

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A fetish occurs when there is a preoccupation with a particular part of the body or object, relying substantially on that object for sexual arousal, quite often to the detriment of a true or full relationship with another person. This is the story of a girl with a fetish. All of the characters in this story were at least 18 at the time of their actions.

Previous chapters of this story are found by scrolling down the page or by CLICKING HERE.

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She got up higher on her knees, high enough so that she was at eye level with the man's stiff, naked dick.

It was wonderful. The bulb was so shiny, so purple, so agitated. She wet her lips with her tongue, leaned down, and planted a long, full, lustful kiss on the tip. She then slid her lips around and around the bulb, using her tongue as well to keep him slick and slippery. It was such a nice big fat head, like the head of a monstrous battering ram, so powerful, so fierce, so delicious, like a big purple plum.

She stuck out her tongue, and licked and licked and licked all up and down the shaft. It was not the shiny smooth shaft of a boy, it had clearly been through tough times, perhaps many times having been stroked, pounded, and beaten, but it was still quite stiff and stout and, much to her pleasure, hairless.

She returned to the tip and absorbed the purple plum into her mouth, capturing its thick richness within her mouth, where she could more thoroughly bathe it with her tongue as she ran her fist up and down the lubricated rod. She pumped and pumped the pipe, trying to draw forth from the well its full rich priceless oil, the salty gruel that he stored within his heavy, hairy balls, which she now gently but firmly grasped in her left hand, fondly tickling that sensitive area just behind his nuts, as her fist continued to jerk his cock and her tongue licked and lapped at the bulb.

For a man who rarely in life had ever had a woman even kiss him down there, who for many years was denied this pleasure by his ex-wife, it was just pure bliss. The innocent looking girl, dressed in the demure, chaste uniform of the college, had his cock buried in her mouth. She was lapping away at it like a thirsty puppy, while she stroked him with her soft girlish hand, and tickled his nuts with the other. He, and she, felt his balls pull tight against his body as the first pulse of his orgasm exploded from deep inside him and surged up and out his shaft like a gusher bursting from deep inside a well.

Emily moaned with pleasure as she felt the tell-tale twitch in his cock and then tasted the first blast of cum against her tongue. She so loved the taste of cum. She was at first surprised to find that cum didn't always taste the same. It was another sweet surprise of these magically delicious appendages. Mr. Gould's cum was really very nice: very thick, like a rich, heavy, syrupy, globby gruel. That was the way she liked it. She wanted her mouth to be filled with the man's thick, syrupy, slushy, slimy, slurpy, sludgy, sticky, scummy, sloppy soup, and Professor Gould did not disappoint.

Sometimes she tried to swallow as a man's gism gushed forth into her mouth, but this time she opted to just let it all build up. She wanted to have a true mouthful, to feel herself completely filled, engorged by his stuff, to truly experience the effect of being inundated, asphyxiated, smothered and choked by the clammy cum. It was like she was being punished for her misbehavior by having to wash her mouth out with his cum.

Mr. Gould watched through his glazed eyes the pretty Emily take his stuff into her mouth. It was a rapturous sight as well as a rapturous feeling, the waves of his orgasm sweeping up through his body as his cum belched forth from his shaft and out the head into her mouth, the cherubic mouth of Emily Kay. Yes, he would have to give her an A for this. It had been so long since he had felt this good.

When he was done she carefully pulled her mouth free, being heedful not to spill even one drop. She then looked up at Mr. Gould, an alluring, mischievous smile gracing her tightly closed lips, like she was hiding from her father that she had snatched a big gum ball from the candy jar and was now savoring its flavor, knowing that she had successfully gotten her treasure right beneath his nose.

Mr. Gould smiled back, still breathing quite heavily, actually trying to catch his breath.

"Isth ith okay ifth I go now Mther Gould?"

"Yes, yes, my dear. It's okay now. You be sure though to do the next homework assignment." He felt a strange need to act like a teacher again, however incongruous it now appeared, now felt.

Emily nodded gleefully. She stood back up, pulled her panties back up, and scampered from the class, luxuriating in the globs of cum in her mouth as she headed off to her next class.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Emily had been lying down on Dr. Lowenstein's couch, her head on the little white cloth. Dr. Lowenstein was sitting behind her, out of eyesight.

It was perhaps fortunate that she was, as her breasts were heaving up and down with her quickened breathing. This was, of course, precisely why the therapist sat behind the patient, so the patient could not observe the instinctive reactions of the therapist to whatever story, fantasy, or confession the patient was revealing.

"You know, doctor, sometimes I can even guess what they had been eating."

"Excuse me?"

"By the taste; the taste of the cum. Asparagus, of course, is the most obvious. Onions are, well, you know, oniony. Brussels and broccoli sprouts make it a bit bitter." She turned her head a bit toward the doctor, although still not able to actually see her face. "I think celery makes it sweater, but any fruit or fruit juice with lots of sugar, you know, like melons or mangos work best, I think. Don't you think so, doctor?"

Dr. Lowenstein didn't really know and, strangely enough, didn't really want to admit that fact. She had a friend who was a real wine connoisseur. She could not herself though tell the difference between a Riesling and a Sauvignon Blanc. They were all just red wines to her, yet her friend readily distinguished a Cabernet Franc from a Cabernet Sauvignon. Emily reminded her of her friend, with her fine taste in cum, and she felt a little jealous. "Have you continued to see Mr. Gould?"

"Oh yes, of course. Not too many times though." She again turned her head toward the doctor. "That's just it. I soon lose interest. Once I become too familiar with his penis I want to move on, to discover new ones, to hunt, bag, and conquer new ones. I even captured the penis of my high school teacher."

"Your high school teacher?"

"Oh my goodness, Dr. Lowenstein, I'm out of time again. Can I tell you that story next week?"

"Uh, yes, yes, yes, of course, next week. We can pick this up again next week."

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When Emily returned the following week Dr. Lowenstein immediately asked her about her high school teacher. This had troubled her throughout the week. She had told Emily that everything that happens within a session is confidential, but there are exceptions, including any underage sexual encounter.

But, the doctor was quickly reassured. Emily wasn't referring to a time when she was in high school.

"Oh no, Dr. Lowenstein, that would be wrong. I would have been underage and everything. I'm not that kind of a girl. I was eighteen when I did it. I was legal."

That was very reassuring to hear.

"In fact, that's the point. I wanted to do it back then. Frankly, lots of girls did. Mr. McAllister was fresh out of college. All the girls had crushes on him and, in fact, I think Tracy Flick did do him. Tracy was so obvious, as she was with lots of guys, frankly it seemed like all of the guys. I think she was actually doing it. She was so easy." This sort of criticism seemed a bit hypocritical to Dr. Lowenstein, but in the early stage of therapy she didn't feel that it would be helpful to be confrontational. "I wouldn't actually do anything with him. I was too young. I knew that. I promised my mother that I would wait until I was at least 18. Well, of course, not to have sex with Mr. McAllister, I mean, no, like, with any guy. In any case, Tracy often dropped hints to other girls that she had a "special" relationship with Mr. McAllister. Yea, I bet it was real 'special'."

"In any case, I saw him again last year, after I graduated. I was at the supermarket, just to get some milk. Did you know that the two most common things purchased at the grocery store are milk and bread? That's why they are the farthest apart in the store. Check it out. They do that so you have to go across the whole store. I didn't need any bread though. Mother just wanted the milk."

"In any case, I was wearing my Templeton uniform. I didn't have to. I was home visiting, and I just wanted to show my parents the uniform. Daddy likes it. I knew he would. Mother isn't so sure. She thinks it's kind of demeaning. It's funny. I think the administration considers the uniform to be conservative. It does at least prevent girls from wearing whatever they want. You know, Dr. Lowenstein, on some campuses girls even wear lingerie like it was a blouse." Dr. Lowenstein had heard of that. "And, don't quote me on this, but I hear, I mean it, I hear that at Abberville College some students are even naked!" She turned her head to Dr. Lowenstein. "Can you imagine that? All of the students completely naked? I don't believe it. That can't be true." That really wasn't true, but there was some truth to it (see Naked at College). "In any case, I think it's funny that Templeton requires this uniform when in fact I think it turns some boys on. It makes us look all innocent and pure, and lots of boys like that."

"Well, in any case, I ran into Mr. McAllister at the supermarket." Emily then proceeded to recount her experience with Mr. McAllister.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

She saw him as she was crossing through the store to get the milk. He was trying to decide which brand of frozen dinner to purchase. Emily gleefully called out, "Hello Mr. McAllister!"

He looked up and squinted. He did not at first recognize Emily. It was often difficult to recognize someone out of context, outside of the high school. And, the uniform certainly threw him off. Carver High School didn't require uniforms. This girl was wearing a tight white blouse, black tie, short plaid skirt, white socks, and even black Mary Janes. He had never seen a girl dressed like this, outside of the movies.

"Silly man, it's me, Mr. McAllister, Emily, Emily Kay."

He looked more intently as she came up the aisle. Once she got all the way up to him, standing next to him, he finally recognized her, a large smile gracing his lips as he recalled the young Miss Emily Kay. "Why yes! Emily, yes! How very nice to see you. You graduated last year, of course, of course I remember you." She had been such a cute girl, and now she seemed to be even cuter in this uniform.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Mr. McAllister."

"Yes, well, it's very nice to see you as well, Emily."

"Do you like my dress, Mr. McAllister?" She gave him a twirl. Quite a bit was already evident beyond the hem of the short plaid skirt, but a considerable amount of white thigh appeared as the hem flipped up with her twirl. Mr. McAllister even briefly detected a bit of white panty.

"Yes, well, it is very nice, Emily." He did indeed like her dress, very much so in fact, although it seemed a bit incongruous within this supermarket. What would make an adult girl wear such an outfit?

"It's my college uniform, Mr. McAllister. I go to Templeton now. I was just showing it off for my parents."

He couldn't imagine having a daughter show this dress off to him. "Oh, yes, yes." He was familiar with Templeton. It was a rather conservative college. They seemed to be as much into controlling students' behavior as they were into developing their minds. Personally, he found the parents who sent their children there to be overly protective and authoritative. "Well, how do you like it, dear?"


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"Oh, it's okay. I like my classes and such, and my teachers."

"Well, that's good to hear. I'm glad it worked out for you. You were always a very good student."

"Well, thank you, Mr. McAllister. How sweet of you to say so." She went up on her tip toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

He was a bit surprised at that, but Emily had always been a very friendly and engaging girl.

"What are getting, Mr. McAllister?"

"Oh, I was just trying to figure out which frozen dinner to get."

"Oh my, eating alone tonight, are you, sir?"

"Yes, not that it's any business of yours, Emily." He wasn't really annoyed. He was used to high school girls teasing him about being single.

Emily opened up the door to the freezer. She leaned over to reach deep into the bottom shelf. "These are the more healthier brands, Mr. McAllister."

Mr. McAllister's eyes naturally went to the rising of her skirt as she bent over into the freezer. Emily did have very lovely legs. But, what eventually came into view was really quite striking. The skirt was so low, and she was bent over so far, that the lower half of her bottom was soon revealed. Mr. McAllister quickly looked around. No one else was there to notice her exposed bottom, nor to notice him noticing. He turned back to her bottom.

Her tush was so cute, so very, very fresh and delicious. If only he could purchase one of these. And, it was so delightfully packaged. She was not selling it with any fancy dressing. She was wearing simple white panties, but they were ever so tight and appealing, trimmed with a very delicate lace. The pouch of her cunnie was in particular deliciously, snugly encased. He quickly adjusted the position of his awakening cock.

Emily looked back around, behind her. Yes, she could see that Mr. McAllister was admiring her bottom. She did hope that he liked her panties. She wasn't wearing her most enticing panties. After all, she was just visiting her parents. But, by the expression on his face and his quick effort to hide the fact that he was shifting is penis, she could see that he was pleased. "Do you see anything you like, Mr. McAllister?"

"Um, well, uh, no, no, that's fine." If anyone came down the aisle toward them from the right, they would see her exposed fanny. For the sake of her modesty, he stepped up to her, hiding her bottom from view with his own body on one side and his shopping cart on the other. He did not want to embarrass the girl, but in standing so close her bottom was now within inches of his crotch.

She turned back to the freezer. "Well, it's good to get the ones toward the back. They say those are the freshest you know. They put the new ones in the back. Mr. McAllister, if you wouldn't mind, hold me steady so I don't fall. It's really difficult to reach back there."
He moved up even closer, as close as he could get without actually touching her rump with his hard-on, and placed a hand gently on her hip.

Emily pretended to slip, thrusting her butt right back at him, pressing hard into his bulge. "Mr. McAllister, you have to hold me tighter than that!"

"Yes, yes, well." A minute ago he was worried that someone might see her in her rather indelicate pose. This, however, was really much, much worse. Now it looked like he was actually trying to take her from behind, his crotch pressed tightly against her upraised bottom. He imagined the security guard watching the monitors must be enjoying this scene. And, even worse, he realized that she might in fact be able to feel his erection against her buttocks. He wished she would just hurry up.

But, Emily did not. On the contrary, she began to shift her bottom left and right as she struggled to find the right package, giving him a little lap dance right there in the supermarket, enjoying the feel of his stiffie against the soft cheeks her derriere.

After awhile, she pushed back hard against him. "Hey, back off. You trying to push me in here?"

He gratefully backed away, quickly shifting over behind his shopping cart to hide his evident excitement.

She stood back up, proudly holding up a frozen Home Bistro gourmet dinner. "Here, Mr. McAllister, these are really very yummy, and good for you too!"

His eyes though were not on the package of Home Bistro, they were instead on the tips of Emily's tits, the nips of which were poking out of her tight blouse like a couple of bullets.

Emily noticed the direction of his eyes, looked down and exclaimed, pretending to be quite embarrassed, "Oh my!" She tossed the frozen dinner into his cart and clasped her hands against her breasts, ostensibly to protect her modesty but in fact drawing even more attention to her breasts, to their softness and pliancy. "I'm so sorry, Mr. McAllister. They kind of do that sometimes, you know, when they get cold, I mean."


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Emily though wasn't blushing. It was Mr. McAllister's face that was turning red. "Yes, well, that's alright, Emily. You were in that freezer for quite awhile, actually."

"It's not like I got all sexually excited, you know, when I saw you."

"No, no, of course not, certainly not."

"Maybe if I warm them with my hands the little rascals will go down." She rubbed her palms against her nipples, around and around, and then pulled her hands away to see if it worked. It didn't, of course. If anything, they were now sticking out even further. "Oh, my goodness no!" and she once again tightly grasped her titties, squeezing them like she was testing a melon.

"But, I mean, it's not like that you wouldn't or couldn't excite me, Mr. McAllister. I don't mean that," she attempted to explain as she clutched her boobies. "I mean, in that way, you know, sexually." It was a rather endearing confession when the girl is squeezing her breasts.

"No, yes, well, that's fine."

"I used to feel that way a lot about you, you know. Lot's of girls did. But, I'm all grown up now."

"Yes, I know, well, say hello to your parents for me." He shifted around the cart. He really wanted to extricate himself from this rather awkward moment.

"Oh my gosh, Mr. McAllister, your thing got all stiff too!" she exclaimed, removing one hand, allowing her pointy nipple to come back into view, and pointing at what was pointing at her from his trousers.

"All jeez," he exclaimed, his embarrassment escalating. He quickly pulled a bag of chips from his cart and stuck them in front of his slacks.

Emily laughed at his discomfort. "Aren't we the two happy customers, Mr. McAllister. Now don't you be embarrassed by that. I'm a big girl now. I know about things like that." She stepped up to him and said more softly, "You know, it's really kind of flattering for a girl, letting you know how excited you are to see her."

"Well, you may be flattered, Emily, but I'm a little more than embarrassed."

Emily withdrew her other hand away. "But, Mr. McAllister, if I can show you my stiffies, can't you show me yours?"

"Emily, that would not be at all appropriate."

"Mr. McAllister, don't be embarrassed. It's not like I'm in high school anymore." In that outfit, she didn't look particularly grown up. "I'm fully eighteen and I'm not even your student anymore." She went up on her tip toes and whispered into his ear, "We can do anything we want now."

This was not helping his cock to go down.

She fell back off her tip toes and said more openly, "You know, I've always really wanted to see your penis, Mr. McAllister."

"Emily! Oh my gosh! You really shouldn't say things like that!" He knew that some of the girls in the high school had developed a crush on him, including one or two in Emily's class. A number of them had been highly flirtatious. This was to be expected. The principal had in fact spoken to him quite bluntly about it, knowing full well that the handsome young teacher would generate quite a number of fantasies, as well as rumors. The principal had made it clear that if anything untoward did in fact happen, he would be out of a job at Carver and most likely anywhere else. "My gosh, Emily! Please, if your parents were here right now."

"I don't live with my parents anymore, Mr. McAllister. I live in the dorm. I tell you what. Just let me see it for one minute, just one minute."

None of the girls in the school had ever been this bold, this blunt. Well, actually, Tracy Flick had been. But, he had never acquiesced to her flirtations, her suggestions. It wasn't worth the risk of losing his job, his reputation.

But, Emily had graduated. She was no longer a student of his, and she was eighteen. A little innocent fun can't hurt anyone. "Alright, but for just for one minute and then I have to finish my shopping. We go our separate ways."

"Oh goodie!" She had figured that her visit home was going to be rather boring. This was a nice little momentary dalliance before bringing home the milk.

He pulled the chips away, and Emily's eyes widened with delight.

Mr. McAllister felt really quite uncomfortable. He had never just stood there, like this, for a woman, displaying through his pants his erection for her, and certainly never in a public place. He wasn't sure if he was being punished or rewarded. On the one hand, it was quite flattering for such a pretty girl to enjoy looking at your erection. On the other hand, he felt terribly awkward and embarrassed for having developed it, and now having to display it for her, right in the supermarket.

Emily stared with amused delight at his embarrassment. It was amazing how long a minute will last when all you are doing is waiting for it to pass.

She started to reach out for it but a mother with her daughter turned down the aisle. Mr. McAllister started to cover himself up, but Emily shook her head. That wasn't the deal. No hiding himself for one full minute.

Mr. McAllister picked up the bag of chips again, but this time he brought the bag close to his face, pretending to be studying the ingredients, hoping that neither the mother nor the daughter would look at his pants or, more specifically, his bulging crotch. He tried to alter the context, the focus, by saying, "I don't think these will be good for you, dear."

Emily played along, but with a different spirit. "Do you know what I would like, daddy? I would like a big hot dog! No, a sausage, a big thick long one. Oh, and do they have bananas here? I love bananas. And, maybe a cucumber, or a pickle. A really big, juicy sweet pickle. Oh daddy, can I have a big one, please? Can I please?"

Mr. McAllister's face went deep red as she prattled on. The mother clearly found the dialogue to be confusing, if not oddly disturbing. The daughter was oblivious. The good news was that it did draw their attention away from him and toward Emily. By the time they cleared the aisle, the minute was long gone.

"Alright then, Emily, funs over, now let us finish our shopping."

"It was fun seeing each other again, though, wasn't it Mr. McAllister?"

"Yes, yes, it was nice."

Emily went up on her tip toes again, whispered into his ear, "I especially liked seeing your pickle," and gave him a peck goodbye as she lightly, briefly laid her fingers on his crotch. Mr. McAllister flinched at her touch, but he did not pull away. He found the little minx to be quite intriguing, if not pleasurable, but he was also grateful that it was over. She was definitely trouble, exactly what the principal had been warning him about.

He finished his shopping and drove back to his apartment. He felt good to have walked away. When in doubt, leave before any trouble develops, but he had to admit that the little nymphet remained on his mind as he drove home.

As he carried a couple of bags of groceries up to his house, he heard Emily say, "So, this is where you live, Mr. McAllister?"

He almost dropped the bags. "Emily, you followed me home?"

She had indeed. She did leave him alone through the rest of his shopping, but she also couldn't get him out of her mind, or at least the bulge in his trousers. He was one penis that she had longed for throughout high school, fantasized about, yearned for. She had restrained herself during high school, but seeing him once again in the market, or more accurately, seeing the outline of his erection through his pants, brought back such a flood of memories, memories of wishes and desires. Can you blame the girl for at least considering the possibility?

She had purchased her milk and waited for him in her car, outside the market, so that she could follow him home.

"I thought you might need help carrying your bags in."

That was a pretty lame excuse, to say the least. "Emily, I'm not stupid."

She smiled flirtatiously at him. "Well, of course not, Mr. McAllister, you're a teacher!" She reached into one of his bags. He couldn't hardly stop her, as his hands were full. She pulled out one of the fresh vegetables he purchased: a long, thick cucumber. "I should at least help you carry this in. It looks awfully big." She slid her fingers up and down its length. The imagery was rather obvious. "It must be hard to walk around with one so big and hard like this."

Mr. McAllister looked up and down the street. He couldn't imagine what a neighbor might be thinking if one saw him with this young lady, dressed in her uniform, masturbating a cucumber in his front lawn. "Please, Emily, the neighbors."

She ignored his plea. In fact, she shifted the cucumber to her left hand and boldly reached out to lightly slide her fingers up and down his crotch. "I bet yours is as big as this cucumber."

"Emily!" Mr. McAllister did step back, but she just stepped forward, continuing to caress and explore the front of his slacks, right in the middle of his front lawn. This would indeed draw quite a bit of curiosity from a neighbor, and most likely serious concern. Here was Mr. McAllister, a teacher at the local high school, being fondled by a petite girl, dressed in a school girl's uniform. There was no mistaking what was happening, yet in fact it would have been a mistake to have reached the obvious conclusion.

"Emily, please, please, somebody will see you. This isn't good."

"Well, Mr. McAllister, perhaps we should go inside? I would really love to see your home."

Girls from the high school would at times show up at his door, always with some silly excuse and usually hinting at the possibility of something else, if he let them come in. Tracy had been the boldest, requesting a private tutoring session. He had never let any of them in. He knew that if any one of them subsequently made an accusation of an indiscretion or abuse, whether true or false, he would not be able to defend himself, having allowed the girl into his home. But, Emily was not a current student. She was eighteen years old. And, besides, none of the high school girls had ever actually fondled him in his front yard! He really needed to get off the front lawn, out of the sight of his neighbors' eyes. "Yes, well, let's go inside and talk about this." He turned and proceeded to the front door, his growing erection pointing the way. As he fumbled with his keys, he further clarified with Emily, "Now, Emily, I need to talk to you. We are going to talk, and that's all."

Emily took the keys from his hand. He was having considerable difficulty, due in part to holding two heavy shopping bags with one arm, but there was another growing problem. "Let me help you with that, Mr. McAllister." He was grateful for that. Anything to get off the porch as soon as possible was appreciated.


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As Emily bent over to insert the key into the lock, she pushed her bottom back into his crotch, as she had done earlier in the store. This time Mr. McAllister did move away. She looked back over her shoulder, smiled, wiggled her bottom, and turned the key. She opened the door for him to step inside. As he walked by she patted him on the bottom.

She followed Mr. McAllister into the kitchen, where he deposited the heavy bag onto the counter. He turned back to Emily. "Now Emily, we really do need to talk."

However, as soon as he caught Emily's eyes, he stopped. Emily now had the smaller end of the cucumber in her mouth, smiling through her fully stretched open mouth, her hazel eyes twinkling as she slowly slid the cucumber in and out of her mouth, like it was a cock going in and out, in and out. Mr. McAllister was speechless.

Emily pulled the cucumber from her mouth. "Do you think yours is as big as this, Mr. McAllister?"

He knew he wouldn't be using that cucumber in his salad. "Emily, please, this just isn't right."

"But, Mr. McAllister, that's what makes it all the more fun."

"Your parents would be very disappointed in me, and in you."

"Mr. McAllister, haven't you once had the fantasy of doing it with one of your students?"

Being now in his own home, secluded from prying eyes and ears, he was able to speak more freely. "Well, yes, of course, Emily. I suspect all teachers do."

She asked more softly, "Did you ever think about doing it with me?"

"Emily, please."

"But, all we're doing is talking, Mr. McAllister. You said you wanted to talk."

"I wanted to talk to you, Emily."

"I want you to talk to me too, Mr. McAllister. I want you to tell me if you ever had any fantasies about me."

For someone who wanted to talk, Mr. McAllister didn't know what to say.

"I bet you had lots of fantasies about Tracy, didn't you, Mr. McAllister. In fact, I bet she has even been in this house."

He could comfortably speak about that. "No, no, Emily, actually that's not true. I imagine that there were quite a bit of rumors about Miss Flick, but none of them were in fact true. I never did anything at all with her."

"Did you ever think of doing anything with her?"

"Yes, yes. I will admit to that. She was a very flirtatious girl."

"And a very pretty one?"

"Yes, yes. She was attractive."

She pretended to pout. "But, you don't think I'm at all attractive?"

"Emily, you are also a very attractive girl, you know that."

"But, you don't seem to have any fantasies about me. You know, that's a very hurtful, humiliating thing to say to a girl. You had all these fantasies about Tracy Flick and none about me."

"Emily, I did have fantasies about you as well. Of course I did."

Emily smiled in triumph. "Oh please, Mr. McAllister, won't you please tell me one of them?"

"Emily, I really don't think I want to do that. I don't think I should, or could, do that."

She smiled coquettishly at him. "If you tell me one of yours, I will tell you one of mine. All it will be is talk."

He really didn't think he could tell her one of his fantasies. One of them was that she got caught in the classroom window, the top half of her body was sticking out, and he came up behind her, flipped up her skirt and pulled down her panties, and then took her from behind, as she tried to keep her composure, talking to her friends down in the school yard while this unknown person fucked her from behind. Another one was less bizarre. She just had her hands tied behind her back while he titty fucked her. Perhaps the tamest fantasy was just that she came to him to ask him about what guys were like, and so he showed her his cock. But, these were really all too embarrassing to reveal. Nevertheless, his cock was now straining in his pants as he went through his list of fantasies.

"You're thinking about one of them right now, aren't you, Mr. McAllister." If there was one thing that Emily could do, it was to read men, particularly when it was sex on their minds. "You're getting even bigger and bigger in there."

He quickly covered himself with his hands.

"No, no, Mr. McAllister. I think you look even more handsome that way, showing me how big and powerful you are."

He pulled his hands away. His heart was accelerating, sweat was dripping down his side.

"One of my fantasies, Mr. McAllister, was that you squirted your big manly penis all over my face."

It wasn't a particularly elaborate fantasy. There was no context, no scenario. But, she felt the single image spoke a thousand words.

And, it certainly got Mr. McAllister thinking. Mr. McAllister had dated quite a few girls. He was good looking. He had his share of girlfriends. But no girl had ever said that to him before. He took a deep breath, his cock yearning for him to speak. He said, "Well, my fantasy was that you came to me to ask me about men."

Emily stepped forward a bit and clasped her hands behind her, slowly swinging her pert perky titties back and forth, back and forth. "And, what did I want to know?"

Mr. McAllister felt terribly embarrassed to say, but it did seem like she would not be offended. He said softly, his mouth dry, "What a man's penis was like."

Emily stepped up to him, reached out for his hand, and led him from the kitchen. She didn't know precisely where she was going, but she knew that the next room was likely to have a couch, if not a bed.

Mr. McAllister followed along, feeling now so pleased, so happy, that he had allowed her to enter the house. This was literally a dream coming true, as he watched her hips swing the plaid skirt left and right.

Emily led him into his living room, where there was indeed a couch. She brought him over to the couch, and directed him to sit down.

He did as he was directed, his slacks now jutting way out, like it was a tent with a big pole holding it up. Once he was seated, Emily said, "Mr. McAllister?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"I wonder if you could help me."

"Well, yes, dear, I am always here to help one of my better students."

"You're so good to me, Mr. McAllister. Mummy always said that if I don't know the answer to something, I should ask my teacher. Teachers know everything, and you are my most favorite teacher of all."

"Well, that's very flattering, Emily. Why don't you tell me what is on your mind."

Emily shyly cast her eyes to the floor, clasped her hands modestly before her, and said, "It's kind of difficult to talk about, Mr. McAllister."

"Emily, come here and sit on my lap."

"Oh yes sir!" She willingly complied, climbing onto his lap, her plaid skirt rising up on her lily white thighs, her soft little bottom resting on his more masculine, muscular thigh.

He placed a reassuring hand on her knee. "Now, Emily, you tell your teacher what is on your mind."

She leaned into his shoulder. "Oh, Mr. McAllister, you're such a wonderful teacher." She snuggled in closer and said most very quietly, "Mr. McAllister, I want you to tell me about a man's penis."

"The penis? You want me to explain to you about the penis?"

Emily wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes, pressing her young breasts into his chest. "Oh yes, Mr. McAllister, wouldn't you please? Pretty please?"

"But, honey, haven't your parents told you about such things?"

"Oh no, Mr. McAllister. Daddy says it would be inappropriate to show me his. He sent me to mummy, but she said it was all just so terribly disgusting. She didn't want to talk about men's penises. She said I should talk to daddy."

"Well, I don't know if I should talk to you about it, Emily. After all, I'm your teacher."

She returned to pouting, swinging her feet as they hung from his lap. "But, nobody else will. It's not fair! You don't want me to ask some silly boy, do you? And, well, who better to explain things than your teacher?"

"Are you really old enough to learn about this?"

"Mr. McAllister, I already told you, I'm a big girl now. I'm all eighteen and everything. I just never learned about this sort of thing. Won't you please let me see your penis?"

Mr. McAllister was enjoying this play immensely. He couldn't be happier, as was clearly suggested by his stiff protrusion. "Well, I will do it, Emily, for the sake of your education. But, we should probably keep this to ourselves. I'm not too sure your parents, or anyone else for that matter, will understand."

"Oh, it will be our secret. I promise, Mr. McAllister." She did eventually go on to tell Dr. Lowenstein, but that was understandable, and Dr. Lowenstein was herself sworn to secrecy.

"Alright then, let's see if I can be of some help." He let go of her back to reach down to his crotch to undue his belt.


***********

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***********

"Oh no, Mr. McAllister, please, let me do it. After all, I need the practice and everything." She swung her body around so that she was sitting on his knees, facing him, each leg hanging down at his side. He leaned back and slid forward to the edge of the couch to give her more room.

It was clear that Emily didn't need any practice undoing men's trousers. "It's like I'm opening up a birthday present and it isn't even my birthday!" She almost tore away the wrapping to get to her new toy. It wasn't at all long before Mr. McAllister's stiff, hard cock was out in the open air. Emily pulled her hands away and said with considerable awe, "Oh, Mr. McAllister, I didn't think they would be so big? Are all men so big?"

Mr. McAllister was indeed a bit above average in size, but not deserving of any awards. "Oh yes, honey. Most men are as big as this."

She knew he was being rather modest. She tentatively reached out and wrapped a hand around the shaft. "Golly, I don't think I could fit something this big in me."

"Oh now don't be afraid, Emily. You will be able to get even bigger things than that in there. You could probably have even gotten that cucumber in there."

She playfully slapped him on the chest. "Oh Mr. McAllister, don't say things like that. That's a terribly naughty idea."

"Would you like me to explain all of the parts to you?"

"Oh yes, would you? I would be so grateful."

"I'd be glad to dear. Why don't you sit down next to me on the couch. Here, kneel down here, right next to me, and I will point out each part. And, to be sure that you're paying attention, I want you to kiss each part I tell you, so that I know you know precisely where it is."

"Oh yes sir, that's a wonderful idea." She crawled off his lap and got onto the couch beside him. She bent all the way over so that her eyes were just inches from his swollen red bulb.

Mr. McAllister then proceeded through aspects of the male erection: the crown, the sulcus, the shaft, the meatus, and each time Emily gave the spot a little kiss, smiling up at her teacher for approval, as well as letting him know how proud and happy she was to be his student. He emphasized in particular the frenulum. "This is where boys are most sensitive. You want to give him an extra special kiss there."

"Like this, Mr. McAllister?" Emily then leaned down, stuck her tongue out part way, and proceeded to give him little rapid licks on the underside of his crown.

"Oh my gosh, yes, yes," he gasped, "just like that, Emily, just like that." He leaned back in the couch and placed a hand on her upraised, soft, curved rump as the little vixen licked and lapped at his sensitive nerves like a kitten cleaning her mummy's teat. Her tongue felt so, so good.

"I wonder if I can fit it in my mouth," she exclaimed. She looked up at him with beseeching eyes. "Would it be okay if I tried? Could I, please?"

He pretended to be uncertain. "Well, I don't know, Emily."

"I promise I won't bite it or anything. Honestly, Mr. McAllister."

"Well, I suppose it would be good for your education, and everything."

"Mr. McAllister, you're such a good teacher." Emily then opened up her mouth as wide as she could, stretching her lips as far as they would go, and then lowered her face onto his cock.

It was in fact a rather tight fit, as Mr. McAllister's dick was really thick. "Hmmmmmm," she moaned as she brought her face deeper and deeper into his lap, slowly bringing the stocky, fat shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth, her lips stretching wider and wider the farther and farther it disappeared into her mouth.

She stopped with a good couple of inches to go. "Hnnnnnn," she complained, shaking her head, and his cock with her, communicating that it was simply too big and burly for her. She even choked a bit and quickly removed her face, coughing and rubbing her throat with her hand, her eyes a bit misty. "Oh my goodness, Mr. McAllister. I'm so sorry. I just couldn't do it. It's just so big and strong, and everything. It's much too monstrous for my little girly mouth."

"Well, that's okay dear. It does take practice."

She took hold of it again with her hand, wrapping her elfish hand around the thick shaft. "Maybe you could give me lessons? I would come over as much as you want, and I would practice. I promise, really I would."

"Well, we can talk about that later."

"Mummy and daddy will pay for the lessons. I'm sure they would."

He had to smile at that. "Yes, well, we can discuss a fee later. For the moment, why don't you just do the best you can."

"Maybe I could fit it in my thingie? My girlie thingy. Let's see if it will fit there!"

There was perhaps nothing more he would like to do, but a part of him was still ambivalent about taking advantage of this girl, using his position as her ex-teacher to exploit her for his own fantasies, even if he was no longer her teacher and she was at the age where she could make her own decisions. "No, no, honey, I don't think that would be right."

Emily though didn't really care if they didn't have real sex. She was more into the cock than she was into having sex. "Well, can we pretend to do it?"

He looked up at her, his eyes a bit glazed, with confusion as well as lust. "Pretend?"

"Yea. Let me show you."

Emily then leaped from the couch, turned her back to him, bent over, lifted up her skirt, and slowly pulled down her panties. Slowly but surely bringing into view her soft, round feminine rump, and her even more feminine pouch, so lightly decorated with whiffs of delicate filaments, split by the most cute little enticing slit. She hesitated when her panties were at her knees and turned her head around to catch his eyes fixed on her cunnie. "Do you think it's cute, Mr. McAllister?"

"It's much more than cute, Emily. It's really gorgeous."

She let her panties fall to the floor, turned around, unzipped her plaid skirt, let it fall to the floor as well, and then lifted up her blouse so that he could see her from the front. She had such a deliciously enchanting cunnie. So young, so sweet, so wet. Stepping a bit out of character, albeit not really, "Did you ever think that you would see my cunnie, Mr. McAllister?"

Mr. McAllister smiled in return. "No, no, dear, I certainly did not."

"Aren't you glad I came over?"

"Yes, very, very much so."

"I'm glad too." She then climbed back onto his lap, her legs again on either side of him, bringing the lips of her cunt to his shaft. "I'll just rub my little cunnie up and down your big manly cock, like we're actually having sex, but we won't really be doing it. Does that sound like fun, Mr. McAllister?"

"Yes, yes, that sounds like very good fun."

Emily proceeded to softly slide her cunt up and down his shaft, pressing into him so that his pipe split her lips, her lips even wrapping a bit around his shaft, kissing, clasping his dick with her cunt lips, caressing his thick dick with her soft, wet, hot lips as she slid her cunt up and down the stem.

Emily actually enjoyed this way of doing it more than the usual way. She felt that this way she could continue to enjoy the sight of the man's cock as well as its feel against her cunt. She reached down between them and pressed his cock against her more firmly, against her equally stiff clit, as she dry fucked her teacher. Well, it wasn't really dry.

Mr. McAllister did enjoy it plenty enough. It was also an opportunity for him to regain a bit of self-control, to stretch this time with Emily out as long as possible. In fact, he reached up and grasped her tits through the white blouse of her Templeton uniform as she rode up and down his shaft.

"Oh Mr. McAllister. Yes, squeeze my titties, please, squeeze my little girly titties."

He did as she requested, paying particular attention to her taught, stiff nipples that were once again poking out through her blouse, this time for a quite different reason.

She grasped Mr. McAllister's shoulders with her little hands, squeezing them as hard as she could, her nails digging in, her eyes clenched shut, her body shuddering with a primal delight. She did not often have an orgasm in her hunts for and captures of new penises. The hunt and capture were often reward enough. However, in this instance the mounting of the trophy resulted in an explosive climax.

"Oh my gosh, Mr. McAllister," Emily gasped, feeling her orgasm surge through her young frame, coursing through her body like waves, tidal waves, engulfing a beach. "Mmmm, mmmmm, mmmmmmm," she softly whimpered as she felt her mind, her body, being swept away.

She collapsed into the masculine arms of her instructor, twitching and trembling with her spasms, her feminine juices running down his shaft, leaving a little wet puddle on her teacher's couch.

When she was done she curled into the crook of his shoulder, burying her face deep inside, seeking comfort and solace. She stayed there for some time, her wet cunt still cuddling his shaft as she hid within his arms, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

Mr. McAllister's balls were throbbing for relief, but he tenderly stroked her hair, her cheek, with one hand, her soft, naked bottom with the other. His dick remained hard, pressing against her young, hot, wet, trembling cunt.

After awhile she lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, falling back into character. "Will you show me how a man squirts, Mr. McAllister?"

He affectionately tapped her button nose, drawing a little giggle from her. "Well, certainly, dear, if that will make you happy."

"I think that would make me very happy, Mr. McAllister." She pulled herself off of him, got off the couch, and sat down on the floor, leaning back with her hands. "You know, Mr. McAllister, I wasn't really being entirely honest with you."

A wave of panic suddenly swept through him as he stood before her, his big, hard cock gripped in his hand. He had feared that doing something like this would get him into trouble, serious trouble. The other shoe was now going to drop.

"It's not just that I want you to cum on my face. I want to see you do it. I want you to play with it. I want to watch you make it squirt."

Whew! Well, that could be arranged. He pulled off his slacks and briefs, and stood with his feet on either side of her shoulders as she leaned back on the floor, looking up at him, at his towering cock, with her angelic, innocent face.

This was actually pretty close to his other fantasy, as her hands were in fact behind her. In his actual fantasy he titty-fucked her and then came on her face. Well, one out of two ain't bad. He began to stroke his cock, smiling down at her.

"You have such a big cock, Mr. McAllister. So manly, so strong. Stroke it hard for me, Mr. McAllister, won't you please?"

He did as she requested, certainly not wanting to disappoint her, his hand sliding rapidly up and down his shaft.

"Go faster, Mr. McAllister, go faster and faster." He did so, his hand and shaft now a whirlwind, the room filled with the squishy sound of his hand swiftly slipping and slapping up and down his shaft, his balls swinging and swaying with the violent movements of his fist.

"I bet you have lots and lots of cum, Mr. McAllister, so much more cum than the little boys I know, with their little boy balls. Your balls are so thick, so full, like those of a bull."

And with that remark a big white wad of cum gushed from his dick and splatted on her forehead. It was a pretty good aim for the first one, and it was followed by a rapid, brisk series of continuously spurting gushes and globs, each of them raining down on her cherubic face, her eyes gleaming with delight as she saw above her the big hard cock of Mr. McAllister twitch and jerk as it spurted out wads and ropes of hot, thick, sticky cum.

She could feel her face becoming awash with his cum and she basked in the pleasure of feeling his wet, hot, thick gism accumulate. She did not run, she did not hide, she did not turn her head nor try to protect herself. She instead opened her mouth to even catch a few thick wads directly onto her tongue, and she even kept her eyes wide open to be able to enjoy seeing the cum gush from his big purple plum and splash down upon her.

Mr. McAllister's legs went weak and his knees buckled, which actually allowed him to draw his cock closer to her face so that he could take better aim, which was fortunate, as his eyes were glazed over with lust and passion as his body was wracked with the base, fundamental pleasure of his climax.

Emily grinned with delight as she felt the cum pool and then slide and drip off her face, sliding down her forehead and cheeks, tickling her nose. She stuck her tongue out further to catch the globs that were within reach, so she could further enjoy the taste, as well as the sight and feel, of his manly gruel.

When he was done a feeling of guilt swept through him as he saw what a mess he had made of her face. It appeared as if two or three men had exploded on her, as her face was literally drenched with cum. Never had she appeared so cute, so pretty, but he worried that he might have gone too far.

"That was wonderful, Mr. McAllister," Emily exclaimed, one eye now half closed as a drop was working its way across her eyelid and onto her cheek. "Maybe the next time I'm in town we can do one of your other fantasies?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dr. Lowenstein's breasts were heaving when Emily finished the story, her panties were wet. She knew that she would become quite personally active in the treatment of her next patient, a young man who had this fixation on older women. He apparently liked it when they forced him to lick and suck on their full, fleshy pussies. Dr. Lowenstein felt that it was time for some psychodrama for that patient.

"At some point, Dr. Lowenstein, I'm going to get into serious trouble doing these things."

Dr. Lowenstein regained her composure. "But did you get into any trouble then?"

"Well, my parents were a little upset."

"They found out?"

"No, no, I got the wrong kind of milk. But, it's just that I can't seem to help myself and I want to develop a relationship with a man that goes beyond his penis. I want to have a real boyfriend. I want to want to get to know him, you know, like who he is rather than just what he has."

"Yes, I do understand, and more than that, Emily I do have a therapeutic approach that may help rid you of this obsession, if you would like to try it."

"Oh, I would, I would, Dr. Lowenstein. I'll try anything."

"Excellent, well, we'll start the treatment at the next session."

Emily felt really better after that. It was always so helpful when your doctor tells you that there was a cure for your problem and that there was nothing to worry about.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It took Dr. Lowenstein some work to get ready for the next session. She called upon some of her prior patients, Theodore Newman (see Teddy visits a therapist) and Carl and Mason (see Dr. Lowenstein's group therapy). However, she knew that it would be important to have an ample variety of shapes and sizes, so she had to interview a few more additional surrogates. The interviews were at times a bit awkward. She insisted that the boys not only show her their penises, but also in a state of excitement. You really couldn't judge a book by its cover. But, she did make sure that each of them left her office with a happy ending. She wanted her surrogates to enjoy their work. A person who enjoys his job does a good job. In the end, she felt she had obtained a pretty good distribution of sizes and shapes.

Emily arrived with anticipatory excitement. She wondered what the treatment would be. She knocked on Dr. Lowenstein's door with an anxious expectation.

"Come on in, we're waiting for you."

We? What did she mean by we? She opened the door and was greeted with the sight of six stout erections standing along the far side of the room. She didn't know, couldn't know, to whom they were attached as all of the boys were wearing pillow cases on their heads. Dr. Lowenstein looked into getting hoods, but they were a bit expensive, as well as having a rather sinister appearance.

White pillow cases might also have a terrible connotation, but that was avoided by using pillow cases with colorful patterns or flowers. They didn't look at all sinister. Frankly, they looked a bit silly, but what the surrogates were displaying just below the waist was not the least bit silly.

She had asked the boys to arrive early so that they would have time to don their disguises and get themselves hard. She had them wearing hoods so that none of them could see Emily. She did not want to violate the confidentiality of Emily's treatment.

"Now, Annie, I'm going to call you Annie in this session so that the boys don't know your real name. We want this treatment to be entirely anonymous. And, toward that end, I want to first be certain that you don't recognize any of the boys."

Emily knew exactly what she meant. She carefully went up and down the line of erections saluting her like she was their commanding officer, inspecting the rifles of her troops. She felt though more like Carol in Once Upon a Time in America (surprisingly played by Tuesday Weld), searching a line of cocks for the one that had previously fucked her. In this case, however, it was hoped that she wouldn't recognize anyone. Carol failed in her effort (she picked James Wood's cock rather than Robert De Niro's). If Emily had in fact been with any one of the penises before, she would surely recognize it. She has a pretty good memory for such things.

She paused at times to carefully feel and fondle them. It was truly a cornucopia of erect penises, coming in all shapes and sizes. From a rather little one, albeit still very cute and precious, to a rather impressively large truncheon. Most of them were straight, but one was shooting up to the left, and one was even notably curved. Emily appreciated the variation. When she finished she turned to Dr. Lowenstein and announced, "I don't know any of them. These are all completely new."

"Excellent, Annie." Dr. Lowenstein had been a bit worried about that. After all, Emily had indicated that she had known quite a number of them. It was fine with her if one or two of the boys knew each other (Mason and Carl knew each other), but she felt it was important not only for Emily's confidentiality but also for her treatment that the prescribed penises be fresh, with no contaminating history or baggage. She explained the approach she was going to use.

"Annie, we are going to use what is often referred to as Bukakke therapy, a form of implosion treatment. This is when the patient is exposed to an object or situation with a sustained intensity. Now, in most cases the stimuli is something that the patient fears, but in this case it will be that with which you are preoccupied. I believe this exposure will satiate your obsession, as well as perhaps further the release of problematic, repressed memories and conflicts concerning its origin. Now, to begin treatment, I want you to take a kneeling position in the center of the room, on the large blanket I've laid out for you and your penises."

Emily got into her position. This seemed more like a surprise birthday party than a therapy session.

Dr. Lowenstein then grasped the erect penises of each of the boys in turn, leading them to a position circling Emily. She could have led them by their hands, but she felt it was in the spirit of the treatment, as well as more enjoyable, to lead them by their cocks.

"Now, Annie, what I want you to do is to just free associate with these erect penises. Play with each one, explore each one, do what you want with each of them, and let your mind roam free. Let whatever thoughts are generated by them to freely enter your mind."

Emily gladly and quickly began the treatment. She dove her face right down on the one that was currently facing her, absorbing the cock within her mouth like a big, sweet gum ball, at the same time reaching out and grasping hold of whatever two cocks were nearest to her.

This was really a mind-boggling delight. It was like her first Halloween, when she had returned home to empty her bag of sweets and then just dove in, sucking and swallowing one candy treat after another, gorging herself on what she had previously only tasted with polite, modest restraint, one candy bar at a time, one cock at a time. Now, instead, with unleashed urgency, she rushed from one cock to another, lost in the enchantment of their stiffness, their boldness, their tastiness.

The boys could not see a thing. They did find it to be a rather unusual situation but still intensely pleasurable. Who would not want his cock so thoroughly worshiped, even if it was only one amongst many. It was a glory hole fantasy of extreme proportions, having your cock anonymously available to be fondled, stroked, jerked and sucked by a girl you did not know and could not see, a girl who just couldn't get enough dick, who wanted to bring you off in the worst way. Few boys turn down purely anonymous sex, and this was about as anonymous and pure as it got.

The boys not getting handled at any particular moment could also hear the girl stroking and sucking other cocks, mewing and moaning in rapturous joy as she consumed, gobbled, and engorged each one. She devoured them, absorbing them into her self, inhaling their essence into her being, or more accurately, swilling, sucking, slurping, and swallowing each dick as if it was the last one she would ever have.

It wasn't long before one of the boys was ready to shoot. "I'm ready, I'm ready," he signaled. He was a bit disappointed to be the first. He wondered if Dr. Lowenstein would be disappointed in him, perhaps he wasn't serving as a good surrogate. Even more so, he wondered if the girl would be disappointed, would consider him to be the wimp in the group, the least adequate.

But, that wasn't how Emily felt at all. On the contrary, she was delighted that she had made one cum so quickly despite having to spread herself out so thin. She quickly turned her full attention to the boy on the verge of shooting. It was one for whom she was stroking with her left hand, but now she let go of it to bring it into her mouth, to taste the first dosage of cream. The first taste of a meal is often the best. You're so hungry, and the aroma of the meat is so tantalizing, so enticing. You just can't wait to have that first taste.

And, she wasn't disappointed. It quickly twitched in her mouth as she grabbed onto and stroked two other cocks, and it then gushed a full load against the inside of her cheek and onto her tongue. She took only the first two shots in her mouth, as she knew it was important, clinically, to have their loads released onto her face. She was familiar with bukkake. What healthy young lady is not? But, she had never experienced its therapeutic benefits.

The young man shot five or six additional wads before he was done. The first couple missed the mark as she was naively hoping that she would not have to aim it for him, that it would naturally shoot straight without the benefit of her hand. She cursed herself. She really should have known better. The first went wide of the mark and the second splatted onto the top of her head. That could be considered a hit, but if this was a dart game it would be only five points. She let go of the boy to her right and aimed the last few shots true, splatting against her cheek and forehead.

"Now me, me," another gasped and she quickly turned to him as Dr. Lowenstein led the first boy away, thanking him for his outstanding contribution to the young lady's therapy as she tucked away his penis into his pants, opened the door, and led him out into the hallway, removing the hood once he was safely out of the room.

"I'm sorry I came so quickly, Dr. Lowenstein."

"No, no, dear, you did just fine. It was in fact a very wonderful amount of ejaculate fluid." She could see that he was not entirely reassured and so she added. "It was even more than you applied to my face." It was important for the surrogates to leave the session feeling healthy and virile.

He felt better and went off down the hall. Dr. Lowenstein quickly returned to the session.

In the meantime, the second boy had released his first splat into Emily's mouth. She was again reminded of how different boys' cum tasted. This one was definitely sweeter, perhaps with a touch of celery. But, once she got her taste she quickly disgorged it and aimed it true on her face, this time square on her nose. She liked the feel and sight of cum on her nose. She thought it looked kind of cute, like a clown's nose. Plus it tickled, and, best yet, it would drip down onto her lips and tongue. She giggled as she let his hose repeatedly gush its sticky stuff onto her nose. Dr. Lowenstein then led him away.

"I'm ready," said another boy, coupled by one more at the same time. Emily demonstrated her manual dexterity by grabbing both of them with her hands, pulling them to her, and then stroking their loads from their balls, leaning her face back to offer the best possible target for both of them, jerking on the jerking cocks as gobs and ropes of cum spurted from their bulbs and leaped through the air to land safely onto her upturned face, covering most every curve, crevice, bump, hill, rise, and valley of her face with a shower of sticky white gruel. She was beginning to understand bukkake and she loved it. The cum smelled so fresh, so manly, and she felt so thoroughly soaked, so completely taken care of, so drenched by the masculine milk, the manly nectar.

Dr. Lowenstein returned only in time to see her patient's face now thoroughly inundated, doused with the boys' cum. She quickly took these two boys away. She told them to fix their slacks as she led them to the door. There was not enough time for her to take care of them, the session was moving so fast.

Emily found taking care of the last two boys to be a bit more difficult, as her face was so thoroughly awash with cum, some of it even dripping down onto the boys' cocks. They didn't seem to mind, but they wouldn't really know. For all they knew it was her saliva.

As she sucked on one of the remaining two boys the cum of the others leaked into her mouth, providing an extraordinary combination of flavors, actually tasting multiple cums as she prepared another, like it was some sort of fine french consomme, a chef's special combination of alternative flavorings, yielding through their harmonious blending a new special broth for the palate. Although, given the texture, it was perhaps more of a chowder than a broth. And, then, this next cock added its own contribution to her delicious soup, supplementing her creation with its own unique seasoning. She quickly removed it though from her mouth, not wanting to overwhelm her cuisine with one particular spice.

She let the rest of it, like the others, release its essence onto her face, joining the swamp that was now her face, hardly an inch feeling dry, and much of it covered in thick white gobs and ropes of gism. She did, though, do well to keep her eyes largely untouched, at least to the point that she could somewhat safely squint through the white mist to see the final, remaining cock.

She had saved the biggest for last. She stroked it for a bit as Dr. Lowenstein escorted the fifth cock from her office. She was particularly curious about this one, and it wasn't just that it was the biggest one. It was also now strangely familiar, or at least it seemed familiar through her squinting eyes and the blurry white cloud that hampered her vision. In fact, it was this distortion of her vision that caused her to see something that was not in fact there, that only appeared to be there: "Oh my, Dr. Lowenstein," she squealed as this last cock shot its load, the biggest one yet, onto her face, "It looks like daddy's penis!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The session had been even better, more productive, than Dr. Lowenstein had expected. With her insight into the source of her fetishistic preoccupation, Emily required only a few more administrations of the therapeutic serum. She eventually grew to love the man as much as she loved his cock.


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