Ben grasped Marcie’s dirty toy in his left hand and tried wiping his chin with his right, even though he knew that his fingers were still slick with her vaginal fluids. The smell of her arousal was all about him now, and that was undoubtedly contributing to the urgent pressure that he felt his wooden erection. He was wondering how he might extract himself from his tender trap between Marcie’s thighs and what might happen next, but suddenly Marcie was in urgent motion above him, pushing her bottom up as she rose up to kneel over him again. Then she was rocking back and forth as she walked herself down the mattress on her knees, bringing her costume’s belt and then her breasts into his line of sight. Ben was excited to see these hanging down in a muddled way between her dress’s unbuttoned bodice, revealing her nipples and stretched areolae, yet he wanted to see her face too. She was arching her spine, curling around to try and see him he realised, so he craned his head even further back against his pillow to look back into her upside-down face.
Her mouth was parted as she recovered her breath, her cheeks were flushed, and her forehead seemed to glisten with perspiration. “Oh Ben! That was intense. Are you okay down there? Holy Mary! I just realised, I leaked on your face, didn’t I? I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry,” Ben reassured her with a broad grin as a look of shocked dismay flashed across her face, “It’s all good. It was intense for me too. I nearly came, without even touching myself. It’s wonderful to be so close to you. I’m glad it worked, with your new toy too. It worked okay?”
“Mother of God, yes! But my legs are trembling. I need to stretch out,” she explained, then immediately pushed out one leg and swung it over his prone body, crashing down onto the bedsheets beside him. Ben rolled towards her, still anxiously gripping her toy, and she threw her arm around his shoulders to cuddle up to him, cradling his head to her chest. Ben nuzzled against the edge of her breast, relishing the sensation of her soft skin against his sticky face as she went on explaining, “I thought I wasn’t going to make it to the big O, because I was worried about squashing and asphyxiating you. You are breathing okay now, aren’t you?”
Ben muttered that he was fine, then she went on, “I felt a bit tensed up too, in that position with the belt tight and this messed-up outfit flapping about. But you just seemed so calm and confident down there that I wanted you to carry on, so I admit I ignored my worries about squashing you and just focused on the feelings. When I felt you put that thing up my bum I almost panicked. It was so extreme! But the deep waves were just getting stronger and stronger. I couldn’t let them stop. I felt the little firm balls slipping in and out, almost like a shrill flute’s happy melody accompanying the stirring music of the main orchestra, swelling as the light was growing, with your fingers inside me too, pressing me and filling me up. Then it all just burst into that shining mist and I forgot all about you, I’m so sorry! And it turned out I let something burst for real too, didn’t I? Did it get in your mouth? Did it taste horrid?”
“Aye, it got in my mouth a bit, but don’t worry,” Ben breathed heavily, craning his neck back to look into her anxious eyes, “There was maybe just a tiny drip, and there wasn’t any taste really. It was no big deal, quite nice in a way, quite a turn-on, truthfully, to know you could really let go. What’s important is your pleasure though. It sounds magical. I’m glad I could help do that, to be so close, being there for you at that moment. It’s humbling, if that makes any sense. It’s like our private Holy Communion, like you’ve said before, right? Anyway, you’d warned me there might be more spills. It’s all good. It’s wonderful, the best!”
“Well I’m glad you see it that way,” Marcie said with a sigh, “But my toy must be a mess too. Have you got it there? Wrap it in a tissue for now. And poor you! It’s your birthday and this was meant to be your treat, the spills were meant to be yours, but all that’s happened is you’ve ended up just getting my pee in your mouth and maybe even my poo on your hand. It’s disgusting! And I’ve not been helping you to squeeze your own sweet unction out, to squirt it up for your tender loving nurse. Will you let me care of you now, to finally give you the chance to relieve that pressure? I’d gladly try to draw out the flux by sucking it into my mouth, just as you’ve done for me. You know that, don’t you?”
Marcie had rolled away from his as she’d been speaking, reaching for the box of tissues that they now kept by the bed, which she’d had already used several times over the last few weeks to mop up Ben’s semen. Now she tugged one out to pass to him for her toy, then once he’d sat up and palmed the offending object onto the floor be beside the bed, he pulled out another to wipe his slimy hand. As he listened to her slip back into character, he was indeed aware that there may have been traces of poo in the smeared gel, just as she’d said, but he put such thoughts from his mind as he pushed his pillow back up the bed, briefly interrupting her to reassure her that nothing was disgusting here. Deep down he was eagerly anticipating his own sexual gratification and cautiously keen on Marcie’s euphemistically described offer to give him fellatio, even if she perhaps thought to repay him in kind for his cunnilingus.
“Okay,” Ben said tentatively by way of answer, lying on his hip to face her now, “But you know you don’t have to do that, right? I’d be just as happy, well, to come in your hand for example, or even just do it myself now.”
“Don’t be daft,” Marcie chastised him as she wriggled back to recline against the pillows, “You said that you like giving oral sex to me, and now I’m saying again that I like giving it to you. I like the way it feels to have you warm in my mouth, sucking your shaft as it throbs with life, and you know how exciting it is for me to taste your smooth creamy semen, even just to taste the saltiness of Roddie’s plummy head. That’s me really making love to you when I put my lips around your manhood you know?”
“Aye, I guess I do know,” Ben admitted as he idly stroked her thigh, feeling increasingly excited at the thought now.
“So why don’t you freshen your mouth with what’s left of your tea then kneel over me, like I knelt over you?” Marcie prompted. Ben agreed, rising to his knees and shuffling up the bed to drain his mug of tea just as she’d suggested, finding it tepid but refreshing. He noticed Marcie glance past him as he moved, and guessed that she too was checking the mirror, where his bare backside must have been on proud display. A glance was all she took though, as she then began stacking the pillows up against the headboard to lean on as she refined her plan aloud, “Well, maybe not just like I did, because unlike mine yours sticks out, doesn’t it? If you come up to me here like this, would that work? Oh, and let me just sort out this unhelpful tangle!”
Ben was already kneeling beside Marcie as he set his mug aside and she fidgeted into position, arranging herself so that she sat with her back upright to the pilled pillows at the head of the bed. He thought he understood her intention as she put her hand on his hip, so he lifted his knee over her outstretched legs, still wrapped in her white stockings, to straddle her hips, kneeling above the matted triangle of pubic hair that he could see tucked between her thighs. He was unconcerned that in his own complete nudity, she could clearly see how his tired erection hung down thick and long, its foreskin pulled back to expose his somewhat shrunken glans, now smeared with his body’s leaking lubrication. He knew that Marcie would not think him impotent if he was temporarily a little soft. As he still felt the weighty swelling of his long-endured arousal, he guessed it would only take a moment of intimate attention for the pressure to return and make him once more genuinely erect. So he felt calm as he knelt on the mattress towering over her, his gross member pendulous before her eagerly smiling face.
Then he realised that her exclamation of frustration was aimed at her partly unbuttoned and twisted dress, still bound around her by the wide blue belt. She unhitched this and undid the two buttons that were still fastened with impatient but effective movements, then opened the dress wide to fully expose her chest and belly, wriggling her arms to quickly free herself of its short sleeves.
“That’s easier,” she said in a light chatty tone, “I can move about more now that things feel a bit looser, in the booby department especially as I’m sure you’ll appreciate. You can pet them more easily now if you want. But look at poor Roddie, so neglected on his Daddy’s birthday. It’s okay, Mummy has got you now dear. Have you been weeping? We’ll soon have you flushed out properly. Oops! There we go, that’s better already, isn’t it?”
Ben had been blown away when he’d first seen her in her fantasy nurse’s dress that morning, but now he was deeply gratified to see her slip out of it. As he looked down at her he was indeed drawn to the sight of her breasts, which seemed to hang down low and wide against her chest under their weight, her nipples proud on their curved edge. From his angle of view above her, Ben could see nothing of their lower curve, and only the top edge of her dusky pink areolae, foreshortened to a lenticular profile. Yet this intimate sight was enough to revive his arousal, especially when he acted on her suggestion to touch her, brushing the back of his right hand’s fingers against one nipple.
His penis was therefore already growing and rising when Marcie lifted gently in her small hand, examining the slippery fluid that has spilt from his urethra. When she touched this with one fingertip of her other hand and smoothed it around, he felt a much stronger surge of arousal. He let himself tense up in response, briefly making his erection bounce up to its full size, his glossy glans swelling to a taught cherry red fullness, prompting her mild exclamation of surprise.
By Marcie’s final rhetorical question, he understood that she’d noticed all this, perhaps understanding the warm satisfaction that his erection gave him. She could hardly miss the signs, he felt, as he loomed over her, grasping the top of the wooden bedhead firmly in both hands now to keep his balance. His manhood was sticking straight out towards her face, less than a hand’s breadth from the tip of her nose. He felt lewd and selfish to be exposing himself to her in this way, like a dirty untamed dog disgracing himself against an elegant gentlewoman’s leg at a vicar’s tea-party, but he reminded himself that she’d been keen to do this, and he’d been delighted to be even closer to her genitals just moments earlier.
He’d expected more of her imaginative chatter to come as he struggled to find suitable words to feed into her light-hearted roleplay, but she had her own surprise for him. Her hands slipped down to hold his shaft firmly, then without any hesitation, she tugged it a little closer then popped his turgid head into her wide mouth.
Ben saw this happen, but the explosive physical sensations told their own story. Her soft lips were clasped firmly around him, well below the collar of his shaft. He thought he could feel her firm rough palate on his head, but she was obviously guarding her teeth beneath her lips. Then he felt an astonishing thrill as he guessed she sucked and rolled her tongue right around his glans. He felt his whole body react, ready to spasm and thrust as his heart raced. He felt compelled to heave a powerfully panted breath, yet he knew he must relax and avoid trying to thrust himself down Marcie’s throat.
He gazed down at Marcie, at the cloud of her thick dark brown hair, still with the playful piece of white fabric that she’d made for him pinned there, and at the top-down profile of her face. He could see little more than the curve of her forehead, her full eyebrows, the frames of her glasses, and her proud nose, almost touching the thick shaft of his rigid manhood as it disappeared into her open jaw and she made small movements around him, yet he felt her intense focus on him, and he knew how lucky he was.
Here he was, on the day he turned twenty-six, in bed with a woman who loved him without inhibition, who was letting him kneel over her to put his penis in her mouth. Yet her being was so much larger than that, filling the long years before they’d met and stretching away into their shared future. She might become a professor herself, leading a university department, speaking at conferences and teaching hundreds of students, or she might become the inventor of some unintelligible database that changed the lives of countless lawyers and made her rich. In either case, she might meet genuine lords and ladies, millionaires and television personalities, at posh dinners or in smart offices. Yet here she was, spending her time now to give him this blissful experience, indulging his most basic animalistic urges, serving his body sexually, gratifying his deep-rooted desires in a profoundly intimate and private moment. Whatever she achieved, she’d carry a part of him with her, in her memory of this instant, of her consuming his body.
She’d spoken of her old faith’s Holy Communion, and of course she’d used her prayer to Mary in the moment of her own extreme. So now Ben saw her almost as a heretical religious devotee, honouring the primal gods of nature, the generative power of Mother Earth, and his masculine virility. He remembered that they’d agreed they were embedded in the eternal currents of life, celebrating those powerful forces in the playful yet serious way that was their shared secret spiritual world. He’d felt her prayer echo in his mind, “Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.” They were base creatures, embedded in their messy bodies, forever falling below the pure angels of their imagination, and they were mortal, but they were blessed by the vision of eternal divine grace.
The image of Marcie cradling his prone body in the gym flashed through Ben’s mind. She’d been ready to stay with him at that moment when his life was in the balance, even as a stranger, and without her he might have died alone that day. He realised now that she could also have therefore taken on another kind of role for him, as that sacred usher at the end of life, the dark Angel of Death. She was the feminine version of the thoughtful bony character that he’d been reading about in the jokingly written Mort, soft and beautiful, merciful and sympathetic, but with an absolute authority that was non-negotiable, ruling all life by her presence at its end. In that moment he knew he was at her mercy in a profound sense that went beyond his physical vulnerability. He was ready to give himself to her, to sacrifice his whole being if she willed it. His soul was in her care, and he had unquenchable faith in her ability to continue guiding him into his new life after his brush with death.
So Ben felt utterly in Marcie’s power as she held his shaft, still gripped in her hand, low down, her fingers wrapped around his scrotum, her other hand clasping his buttock. The rolling sucking sensations of her mouth around his glans were mind-numbingly exquisite, and he knew that it was only because of his deliberately slow and calm breathing that he’d held out so long without ejaculating. But suddenly he felt her lips slide over his head as she pulled back and released his penis, letting it spring up with the thick curve of its extreme rigidity as she leant back slightly.
As Ben looked down, he felt the delicious thrill of the cool air whispering around his glossy purplish head as Marcie’s panted heavily. She seemed to be staring straight at his erection, rising before her face as she kept her firm grip on the base of his shaft, and he heard her murmur, “Ara l-Ħaruf ta’ Alla. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb!”
Then she pulled him down to engulf his head in her mouth once more, now eagerly sucking and using her tongue against his frenulum and collar in ways that Ben could only guess at. He’d thought her words may have been part of another prayer, but conscious thought was fast slipping away in the heart-racing thrill of the moment. She gave him such intense sensations that he jerked involuntarily, straining to hold himself still with arms braced, hands gripping the bed’s headboard, still resisting the urge to thrust himself forwards. Her hand on his buttock was squeezing, kneading him compulsively, and her fingers seemed to be groping toward his own anus now, her fingertips massaging the crease beneath it with firm rhythmic pressure that was surely reaching his prostate. Then he became aware of the muffled grunting moans coming from Marcie too, rising in volume as she breathed heavily through her nose, and it was these that seemed finally to tip him over the edge. They triggered a pulse of tingling pressure within his testicles, from the root of his erection, which rose through his whole body in a surge of profound satisfaction, the ultimate expression of his being.
Only then did feel his semen spurting from his penis into the enclosing warmth of Marcie’s mouth, the first thundering pulse making his body spasm. Even as the pleasure of his release overwhelmed him, he knew this moment of euphoria was shared, that its dizzy extreme was only thanks to his profound sense of loving union with this goddess made flesh, whose name he uttered with devout adoration, “Marcie!”
He heard his lover’s breath become louder and more rapid through her nose, even as there was a new throbbing sensation as if she were sucking harder, yet her lips seemed secure around him as a second pulse pumped through his rock-hard penis. Even as his conscious will retreated, he kept the rigid control in his locked muscles to stop himself from pushing and choking her. Then the twitching spasms came faster, rising irresistibly with his gasping breaths into a dizzy haze of bliss, before slowing and fading as his orgasm flowed out through him, and through his acutely intimate connection to Marcie.
His heart was hammering, and his breathing was heavy, but he recognised with relief that there were no obstructions within his chest. He looked down, softening his grip on the bedhead, his eyes confirming what he felt in his sensitive and softening penis, that Marcie still had him gripped tightly in her mouth. Though the sensations were exquisite, he knew they couldn’t last, so he dropped his right hand to brush her cheek and tenderly hold her chin as he gently pulled back. His long glossy member slipped from her mouth, and he saw then that its thinning shaft was smeared with vivid red marks. He had a moment of panic, thinking that it was either his or Marcie’s blood, then realised it was merely her lipstick.
He sank to his haunches to look straight into her eyes to say, “That was wonderful, Marcie.” But he realised as she smiled with those glistening yet smudged red lips that she was keeping her mouth deliberately sealed, and he guessed what she was doing. So he leant forwards to kiss her, his jaw limp to part his own mouth, feeling the slippery warmth of her questing tongue’s tip as their lips joined. Cradling his hand behind her head now in a gesture that she mirrored with her own free hand, he held his mouth firmly to hers as she opened wider and let his own tongue in. His guess that she’d not yet swallowed his semen was immediately confirmed as he found the slippery mass filling her mouth. He relished its distinctive fresh taste - something like runny egg yolk or a liquid mild cheese, just as Marcie had said before - as he rolled his tongue over hers, drawing a gout of the gooey fluid into his own mouth, then passing it back to her, resisting the urge to swallow and let it slip down his own throat.
Their kiss became passionate as they both breathed heavily through their noses, their hands gripping each other’s skulls as their fingers got tangled in the other’s hair. Their greasy lips were pressed in firm close contact, their jaws wide, their tongues deep in each other’s mouths around the slippery clot of vital slime, moving with a powerful urgency as they shared the salty taste of his nourishing sperm. Ben licked her teeth and the insides of her cheeks, eager to find caches of semen that had squeezed themselves up there, and she sucked his tongue as if jealous of him for taking more than his share. Yet their hunger for each other around the shared gift of his ejaculation made their motion increasingly chaotic, and suddenly Ben felt a great slop of warm fluid slip away down their chins.
He pulled back, finally swallowing what remained in his mouth, to smile at Marcie as she laughed, saying, “Thank you, for sharing.”
Ben briefly lowered his eyes and saw the long runnel of spilt liquid sliding down her chest now, trickling down her wide cleavage across the edge of one breast. Perhaps following his eyes, Marcie brought the hand that had been resting idly on his thigh to the foamy off-white mixture of semen and saliva to rub it over herself, lifting her breast and making the delicate skin beneath her nipple glossy as her hand passed over it, before her breast fell back down with its own weight. Ben took this powerfully erotic moment in with his quick glance, then raised his eyes to Marcie’s again as she responded, “No, thank you, Ben, for letting me take you like that. You did very well to remain so calm and still while Roddie got so big and hard, jerking about like he was trying to escape. And I was pleased to see I managed to smear my lipstick around him nicely, like I’d put my mark on you, staking my claim against others who might pass by that way. And don’t all boys dream of getting their girlfriends’ lipstick on their little fellows?”
“Aye, maybe,” Ben admitted as he stroked her cheek tenderly with the curled fingers of his right hand, grinning like a fool, conscious of keeping his dirtier hand away from her face. Her mention of a visible sign of her claim on him made him think of a wedding ring being a public symbol of that, but he knew he didn’t want to discuss that right now, given his plans for the day. Then he asked, “But what was it you said, just before I came? Something about a lamb supper?”
“Oh Ben, it’s so naughty!” Marcie explained with a twinkling smile, “You’d mentioned Holy Communion, and it’s a line from the Mass that I heard so often as a girl. ‘Behold the Lamb of God,’ like the Agnes Dei, taking away the sins of the world, granting us peace. I felt so cheeky saying it. I was surely being blasphemous, but it seemed somehow right too, as a mark of respect for your life-giving phallus and a way to honour our love.”
“Lamb of God are a metal band too,” Ben admitted, sympathetic to Marcie’s imaginative devotional prayers, but unsure whether he could help her adapt her childhood religion to their personal magical rites. He was uncertain about whether he could describe the profound yet dark feelings that he’d also felt in their intimacy.
“Well, you know I like the other band called Lamb too, but that’s not what I was thinking of. I imagine your metalheads are playing with the exciting thrill of blasphemy too,” Marcie speculated as Ben swung his knee across her and slumped down to cuddled up beside her on the pillows. She put her arm around him as she went on, “You understand the Lamb is a synonym for Jesus, right? For his male body. He’s the sacrifice, the new deal to replace all the real animals that were killed and burnt on Old Testament altars.”
“Aye, I get it, like Aslan too,” Ben observed, thinking of Marcie’s precious book that she’d helped him finish, “Lion, lamb, same difference, right?”
Marcie laughed and agreed, then Ben took a deep breath and ploughed on with what he wanted to say, “And I kind of felt something like that too. This may sound weird, but it was a good thing, really great, special and kind of spiritual, I guess.”
“What, Ben?” Marcie asked in gentle exasperation, twisting around to give him a curious look.
“I felt like I was ready to be a sacrifice. I’ve given myself to you, and you could fit another role, different to the nurse or Holy Mother. You could be my guide when I die Marcie, as you nearly were, when you rescued me in the gym.”
“Oh, don’t talk like that Ben!” Marcie said urgently, and he saw her eyes suddenly brimming with sparkling tears.
“No, it’s a good thing, like I say,” Ben tried to emphasise, “I trust your care, your mercy. We’re in this together, and life is so precious because, deep down, we know it must end. But if you’re there for me, in my final moments, I’m at ease with that, I’m ready.”
“No, not yet Ben!” Marcie wailed urgently, twisting around to grip him to her, pressing their bare skin together in an awkward but forceful embrace.
“No, I know that,” Ben admitted sincerely, his voice slightly muffled by her body’s close contact, stroking her neck tenderly while his dirtier hand gripped her thigh, savouring the warm weight of her against him. He began voicing his thoughts aloud as Marcie shifted and buried her face beneath his chin, carefully skirting around the secret surprise that he’d embedded in today’s plan as he spoke, “Maybe there’s been enough sacrifice. My lungs’ condition, the fire, your old research plan, they’ve cleared a new path. I’m looking forward to a liberated future, and I think you still are too, that fresh air and open sky that you first told me about, and I want to share it with you.”
“I’m glad,” Marcie sniffed, pushing herself up a little to look into his eyes. She went on, “I want that too, to fill my lungs with that fresh air standing beside you. And we should get plenty of that today, right? So hadn’t we better be getting on with things? You can have first shower, and I’ll start getting breakfast ready. Deal?”
“Deal!” Ben laughed, amazed once again at how Marcie could switch into her practical mindset in an instant. “I love you,” he said, planting a soft kiss on her lips, thinking of where they’d just been and the traces of spilt semen on her chin, now accompanied by tender tears on her cheeks.
“I love you too, my big brave lion,” Marcie said with a twinkling smile as she twisted herself around onto all fours, letting her breasts hang heavily down, before bundling up her discarded costume and rising to her feet. She clasped the crumpled white fabric to her chest, covering her nipples but leaving the dark plastered curls of her pubic hair exposed in the crease between her stocking-clad thighs, as she said, “Just let me run through to the bathroom to have a wee and put my dressing gown on.” Then she was making for the door.
Ben watched her go, his eyes on her bare back and buttocks, his heart filled with warm affection, his loins already stirring with faint arousal again at the sight of her teasingly sexy body. Then as she passed out of sight around the door, he rose from the bed too, picking up their empty mugs along with Marcie’s dirty beads before padding through the flat after her.