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It was no use. If I didn't say something, I'd burst.

"Honey... Lawrence... you don't have to pull it out quite so fast."

He was still jerking his shaft, milking the last few droplets of cum onto my bare chest, his face contorted with pleasure. But his eyes opened and looked down at me, uncertainty flashing in their dark blue depths.

"Believe me, Chrissie, that was the last minute."

"No," I corrected him. "The last minute is..." I paused, as one final glob of white oozed across his shiny helmet. "Round about now. Anything that happens before that is simply the build-up."

"But..." I think he was lost for words. "It's in your mouth..."

"So? It's not as though I don't know what happens in there." I gave his ballbag a light squeeze. "Plus, if I was worried about that, I wouldn't have put it in there in the first place."

Again, he was searching for some kind of response. "I just thought... no, I didn't think you'd want.... Most girls don't like..."

"A mouthful of hot cum? Don't believe it. Most girls love it." I paused, and thought about what I was saying. "Okay, so it can take a bit of getting used to. But even then, it's only the idea of it that's icky... when it actually happens, and you realize that it's really not so disgusting, there's nothing else like it."

He kissed me. "I'm sorry... Next time..." and then; "is there anything I should do? Like..." this obviously wasn't easy for him to talk about and, quite frankly, I was wishing he'd stop. But he pressed gamely on. "how deep should I be when I... and is there anything I should be eating, to make it taste better..."

I stopped him right there. " Why do guys always have to plan everything out? This isn't painting by numbers, you know.... If something happens, it happens. It doesn't matter if the stars are correctly aligned, or whether you had broccoli for breakfast, or which sock you took off first. We're making love, not a model aeroplane."

I spoke a little harsher than I intended to, but it's true. Guys spend so much time worrying about how to have sex, they often forget that they're having it; and, by the time you've finished answering all the questions ("how does that feel... am I doing it right... was it good for you?)... oh, you know what I mean. Having sex is one of the few occasions in life when we can actually throw away all our little rules and regulations, and act like little animals. But how wild can you be, with the Spanish Inquisition drilling holes through your head?

I leaned forward, took his soft, sticky cock in my mouth and gave it a long, lingering suck. He was drained, I knew it; and would be heading back to his place before he built his strength back up. But I wanted to give him something to remember me by... or, should that be something else? I knew from experience, the moment you tell a guy you want to taste his cum, he won't be able to think about anything else. Ha-ha; join the club.

Once he'd gone, I slipped out of bed, dug my journal out of my sock-drawer, and hopped back under the covers. Lawrence and I had been seeing each other for precisely a week... seeing each other again, that is, 25 years after our teenaged romance was soured by him meeting his future wife. And every time we'd slept together since then... tonight was the fourth... it was better than the last; and better than anything we'd experienced last time around.

The first thing that struck me... and still struck me... was that his cock was an awful lot bigger than I remembered, which surprised me. After all, I'd not seen it since I was 18, at which age even the teensiest nub can seem enormous if you've nothing else to compare it to - and, at that age, I hadn't. Wrapping my hand around it again, for the first time after all these years, I was expecting to encounter the same little fistful of gristly cocktail wiener that popped my cherry

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