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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Davey's Diary Booklet 2 {Kellis} (mF mm mf) [2/3]
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Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2016 03:10:04 -0400
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Davey's Diary
by Kellis
Summer, 2016


Booklet 2: _Georgie_


Monday, June 23, 1952

I don't know exactly how many times it was, but I jacked off a lot more
over this weekend than I did the last -- always with Elaine's curves in
mind.  I believe my dick was hard every time I thought about it.

Today, Monday, was like Thursday, except Elaine didn't suck on me during
the piano lesson.  Another woman was there, a Miss Grail, I guess about
the same age as Elaine but not so curvy, with smaller tits and a plain 
face.

Elaine said, "She's studying my teaching methods."

Miss Grail shook my hand, said, "Pleased to meet Elaine's star pupil," 
sat in a chair on the other side of Elaine and watched like a hawk 
everything we did.

Nothing was said about any special attention, although at one point 
Elaine sort of accidentally let her hand fall in my crotch and squeezed
what was there.  You can bet it jumped right up.

That was this afternoon.  After a lot of dithering I decided, "What the
hell!  She can just tell me to scram," and biked over to Elaine's house
after it got dark.  Her car was in the driveway and a light was on in 
the bedroom, so I knocked on the back door.  I had to knock twice, 
louder the second time, before I heard noises in the house.

She opened the door in the same housecoat.  "Davey, of course!  I'd gone
to bed.  Give me your hand."

She led me through the dark kitchen and the hall and directly downstairs
to the basement.  Somehow she didn't seem as glad to see me.

I said, "Didn't you want me to come?"

"I squeezed your cock, didn't I?"

"I thought that's what it meant but I wasn't sure."

"That's what it meant."  She threw off her housecoat.  "Here are your 
toys but take off your clothes."

While we kissed she took one of my hands off a tit, moved it down her 
belly and stuck my fingers into her wet pussy.

When our lips parted, she said, "I'm about to show you something new.  
You know what's a '69?'"

"It's a number."

"Think about how the digits fit together.  Come on to bed.  Let me lie 
down first."

She pulled me on top of her, face down, our heads and feet reversed.  
"Now we make a 69.  You can lick while I suck."

Which we did.  I hadn't jacked off all day so I came right away.  She 
didn't.  I pulled out but kept on licking.  When the tingling eased, I 
poked my dick back at her lips.  She opened them and started up the 
suction again.  My doing that must have tickled her.  She began moaning
through her nose.  After a while she wiggled her hips out from under me
and spat me out.

When I turned around to face her, she said, "Well, Davey, what did you 
think of that?"

"Wish I could come for as long as you do."

She shook her head.  "One of the differences between male and female, 
I'm afraid.  Now I'm ready for your fist.  Be sure to start with 
straight fingers."

The rest of it was the same as last Thursday, including her "Fuck me!" 
cries, the Coke, the beer and sucking me in the shower.

Before she let me go she said, "Davey, I hope you are enjoying this as 
much as I am."

"Oh, golly, Elaine!"

Do all girls love it like she does?  Or is it only grown women?


Thursday, June 26, 1952

Elaine sucked me off on her piano bench this afternoon and said as she 
tucked my dick back in like a mother, "You can't come over tonight.  I'm
having a guest."

"I was afraid that's what it meant."

"I'm sorry.  For both of us.  I already miss your fist when I have to do
without it."

"You don't have to," I said, looking around at the curtains fluttering 
in the breeze.

"Yes, I do, silly!  I don't even want to think what would happen to me 
if we get caught."  She cocked her head at me.  "Davey, have you told 
any of your friends?"

"No.  None of their business."

"I'm so glad to hear it.  Uh, Davey, how well do you know Joe Carter?"

Joe was another student of hers, I think the only other boy, one grade 
behind me.  I shrugged.  "Just a kid."

"I believe he's younger than you."

"Yeah, about a year."

She took a deep breath.  "Too young, I suspect."

"For what?"

She looked at me funny but grinned.  "For special attention."

That surprised me, both what she said and my reaction.  Joe was slightly
smaller and wimpy.  I thought I could handle him.

I dared to ask her, "Would you like to give him some special attention?"

She laughed funny, like it wasn't really.  "Forget it, Davey.  Let's 
hear your D-flat major scale."


Sunday, June 29, 1952

When mom and I got to church this morning, Georgie was waiting for me.
He said, "Come on in the storeroom.  I've got something to show you."

I guessed, "You've grown another dick."

"Almost."

So we bustled down the side hall, made sure nobody was looking and 
ducked into the storeroom, full of spare chairs, extra hymnals, a split
lectern and a cot for the janitor.

We locked the door.  He dropped his suit shorts down to his knees.  We 
had measured dicks.  His was a half-inch longer and a little thicker.  I
dropped my pants, sat beside him with hips bumping and took hold of his
while he grabbed mine like the last time we did this.

I said, "Feels like the same dick to me."

"Yeah, but watch what happens."

He jiggled on me and I jiggled on him.  Interested in seeing what would
happen, I paid mine no attention.  It didn't take long.  He stiffened 
and suddenly my hand was wet.

"What the hell?" I wondered, raising it before my face.  My palm and 
finger were coated in a thin white paste.

"Damn, don't stop!" he yelled.  His other hand quickly replaced mine and
he jacked fast while more of the paste leaked out and dripped to the 
hardwood floor.

He soon stopped and grinned around at me.  "It's jizz!"

I had already figured that out.  Burning with envy, I rose and jerked up
my shorts.

He gaped at me.  "Let's see if you can do it."

I wasn't interested.  "We better not keep that door locked too long."

"We won't," he scoffed.  ""You come like a bunny."

That didn't help.  I said, "So you can jizz, good for you!"

"You'll do it pretty soon."

"How long you been doing it?"

"About a week.  Sure surprised me!"

"I'll bet!"  Suddenly I had an idea.  It was still hard, so I shifted 
the cloth and let it poke out.  "Suck it."

His eyes widened.  "You think I'm queer?"

"I guess not."  I tucked it back in, unlocked the door and left him 
there, dick still hanging out and still dripping.


Wednesday, July 2, 1952

Hanging a ball glove over my handlebar, I left for the field where we 
play sandlot softball.  Georgie was standing by his own bike.  Waiting 
for me?  I stood mine beside his.

He said, "Why'd you think I was queer?"

"Hi to you too."

"Why did you?"

"Well, you showed me how to jack off.  I heard two or three other guys 
say you showed them."

He scoffed, "Shit, that's nothing!  I showed you all through your 
pants."

"So what?"

"Harv Quinlan didn't do it that way."  Harv is a boy who failed a grade
and is a year or two older.  "He wrestled me down to the ground, pulled
my britches down, grabbed my dick and pumped till I shoved him off."

That made me grin.  "How long did it take you to shove him off?"

"Well, after it got so good I couldn't stand it."

I nodded.  "That I believe.  What'd he say then?"

Georgie huffed.  "Harv grinned and said, 'You gonna thank me?'"

"Did you?"

"About as much as you did me."

I paused but said, "I should have.  It was a real favor.  Thank you, 
Georgie."

"You're welcome, even if you think I'm queer."

"Maybe Harv is the queer."

"At least he didn't make me suck."

"Or fuck your butt hole.  I hear they do that too."

"I've heard it too.  Just don't call me queer."

"I never did."

I turned away to join the other players and heard him say something 
behind my back.

"What?" I wondered, turning back.

He looked down the road, not at me, and said in a low voice, "All right.
I'll do it."

After a bit his eyes swung to mine.  He looked worried.  I said, "Not 
here," and went to play ball.

I'll have to think about this.


Thursday, July 3, 1952

Elaine had an idea.  When I came in her parlor, she stood up, turned the
piano bench perpendicular to the piano and said, "Pull down your 
britches, sit on the end and play _Fur Elise_."

I had to grin.  "What will you be doing?"

"Listening," she said airily.  She put a chair pillow on the floor next
to the piano, dropped to her knees and grinned up at me.

So I sat and began to play.  I had been working on the intricate inner 
movement of this bit of Beethoven and thought I had it down pat.  It was
interesting to me that her mouth on my dick was distracting enough to 
feel good without making me come.  But I totally lost timing in the 
middle when she began squeezing my balls.  Then I came right away.

"Shit!" I said with disgust.

After giving my twitching dick a final lick she giggled and raised up.
"What's the matter, sweet Dave?  I think I'll rename you 'Sweet Dick.'"

"I hoped to last the whole piece, then you tickled my balls."

"This has been an interesting experiment.  You complained of coming too
quick.  The piano did help that.  I had to see if flipping your 
testicles would get your attention."  She giggled.  "Which it certainly
did.  I believe I can detect your climaxes as readily as you can."

"Elaine, you, you --"

"Am I a naughty mama, Sweet Dick?"  Her giggle sounded again.

"Oh, are you ever!"

Realizing what it likely meant, I let my whole body sag.

"Stand up," she said, "and help me straighten up."

Seated beside me on the now parallel bench, she said, "You've guessed, 
haven't you?"

"No fun tonight."

"Would you like to drop by tomorrow night?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then I'll expect you, both hard dick and a hard fist."

"Okay."

She adjusted the sheet music.  "Now let's hear that middle part again."


Friday, July 4, 1952

This really happened last night but it's Friday morning and I'm just now
getting around to writing it down.

The Johnsons shoot off fireworks this time every year, "Fourth of July 
Eve," so right at dusk Mom let me go down the street to watch and 
listen.  I waited till it was full dark, left the crowd and hurried 
through the back alleys to Elaine's house.  Two cars sat in her 
driveway.  She really did have a guest.  I was only too suspicious of 
what kind of guest.

The kitchen was lit.  If I stood on a flowerpot I could see over the 
window sill and hear the conversation if they didn't whisper.  Elaine's
guest was a woman, I noted thankfully, the Miss Grail who'd watched my 
piano lesson the other day.  They both stood at the sink wearing house 
coats and doing the dishes, Elaine washing and Miss Grail drying.  They
must've eaten a meal despite the clean dinette table.

The subject of discussion riveted my attention.  Elaine was saying, 
"-- third candidate for who licks a clit best."

Miss Grail sniffed.  "I can't believe your youngster does it better than
me.  Do you tell him, 'Fuck me, fuck me!' as loud as you tell me?"

Elaine giggled.  Oh, god, I do love that giggle!  She said, "When it 
feels that good, I'm liable to say anything.  Cliff and Biff used to 
alternate putting their hands over my mouth."

"Well, I certainly hope you take him into the basement!"

"Even if I had a husband, I wouldn't dare fuck him in any other room of
this cardboard house."

"Cardboard?"

"They were building them cheap just before the war.  At least the rent 
is low."

"At least.  I'm thinking you started out sucking your student's cock.  
Is that how a teacher is supposed to behave?"

"Aren't we all cocksuckers, Sherry?"

"Whenever we get the chance.  Let's get back to your clit."

"Anytime you're ready, Sherry, my love.  Your tongue might piss everyone
off but it's sweet in that spot."

"It's a sweet spot.  I'd like to sit in a chair with you on the edge of
that table and eat you out of your mind."

"Oh, god, and you're the one who can do it, Sherry."

"Better than your youngster."

"Except for one thing."

"Whatever could that be?"

"His fist is just the right size."

"I'll have you know Sue Ellen loved mine."

"She's a cow with six calves.  No baby's head has ever been through my 
twat."

"Yeah.  Nor mine.  'Just the right size,' you say?"

Elaine stopped washing to regard her friend.  "You have something in 
mind?"

"Well ...  Don't all men love two women at once?"

"He's a boy."  Elaine giggled.  "But he does have two arms."

Two women at once?  That idea was too much for me.  The flowerpot turned
over under my foot.  Down I went with a crunch, flat on my back.

"What was that?" cried Miss Grail.

"Sounded right outside the window," said Elaine.  Hurried footsteps 
sounded in the kitchen.

I turned over and scrambling like mad, half crawling, half running 
toward the alley.  Behind me Elaine called, "Hey, there, peeping Tom!"

She saw me but it was dark in the yard and darker in the alley.  I'm 
sure she didn't recognize me.  I hope even if she did she won't make a 
stink.  God, I hope!

Miss Grail's first name is Sherry.  Her butt is as round as Elaine, just
not as wide.

The conversation was too suggestive.  Can women be queer?  I surmised 
that the "clit" was a little lump at the top of a pussy -- all pussies?
Elaine surely loved for me to lick hers.  Was a woman's tongue any 
different?  Could Sherry really do it better?

In my own bed I jacked off to the thought of my hands in two pussies at
once.


* * *


When Elaine met me at her door after dark tonight, she pulled me in, 
looked past me searching and said, "Did you see anybody else out 
there?"

"Who?"

"I don't know.  Somebody about your size."

"Nobody but me."

"Okay.  Get your tail on down to the basement."

I hurried to obey, noticing that the shades were tied down on the 
kitchen windows.

In the basement she stood at one end of the bed, housecoat still closed,
and questioned me while I undressed.  "Miss Grail was here last night as
my guest.  Do you know, we actually had a peeping Tom?"

"What's that?"

"A man -- or a boy, I guess -- who peeps through windows at women's 
private business."

I didn't like the sound of that, but an idea occurred to me.  "What if 
he has at least a _little_ share in the business?"

Her eyes narrowed.  I had just kicked off sneakers, last of my clothing.
She said, "Where'd you get that scratch on your knee?"

"Crawling through brambles."

"That was you last night, wasn't it?"

I jacked my dick a couple times.  "What if it was?"

"Oh, Davey, you little rat!"  Red spots appeared on her cheeks.

"What makes me a rat?"  I let out a sigh.  "I thought your guest might 
be a man."

"You did?"  Her eyes flashed.  "What if it had been?"

"I would ..."  I lowered my eyes.  "I couldn't stand it."

"Davey, let's get something straight.  I don't belong to you and you 
don't belong to me."

"You said my dick was yours."

"Meaning I could take some liberties with it, which I did.  Do you 
complain?"

"No.  No, never.  I guess I love you, Elaine."

Her face softened.  "How long were you at the window?  How much did you
hear?"

Here was the chance to satisfy curiosity.  "Can women be queer?"

She laughed a little.  "As three-dollar bills.  I think most women are a
little bit that way."

"They can be queer and still love men?"

"Most of them.  I certainly can."

"Can Sherry?"

"If she gets the chance.  Davey, you know I didn't mention your name."

"I figured that out.  But you told her about us."

"I told her I'd found me a terrific little fister."

"Did you introduce her to Joe Carter too?"

"No."

I nodded.  "She knows who it is."

"You know what's funny?  She wants to meet you again."

"Here in the basement?"

"What would you think of that?"

"I dreamed of fisting you both and" -- I threw out the new word -- 
"licking your _clits_."

"Did you!  Did you like it?"

"Then you both sucked on me."

"I'm sure you liked _that_!"  Her voice had a sneer, but she finally 
threw off the housecoat and let herself fall onto the bed, legs wide 
open.  "Come here and fist."

I went to stand beside her head.  "Suck first."

Which she did without any argument.  I wonder what else she'll do 
without any.


Sunday, July 6, 1952

I caught Georgie's eye when I got to the church.  He'd been watching, I
could tell.  He got up right away and followed me down the hall.  I 
locked the storeroom door behind him, dropped my Sunday suit shorts to 
my knees and stood there looking at him.

He looked back and bit his lip.

"Well?" I said.

"You really want this?"

"I want to see if you do."

"I said I would."  He took a deep breath like he was planning to dive 
off a board.  Maybe he was.  He said, "Come on."

He went around behind the old lectern, which we already knew was open in
the back, having no back panel.  When I followed him, waddling with my 
britches down, he backed into the hollow lectern and squatted down, 
looking up at me with his mouth open.

"You look thirsty," I said.

His hand caught my dick and pulled it toward him.  I let him put it into
his mouth.  He tasted it.  I could feel his tongue moving.  But just as
it got hard he spat it out.

He leaned his head back and looked up at me.  "I've been imagining 
this."

I had an idea.  "While you were jacking off?"

"Yeah.  I imagined jacking off into _your_ mouth."

"If it was in there, you wouldn't have to jack.  You gonna finish?"

"Wouldn't have to jack?" he repeated.  "Why not?"

His imagination fell short.  I pushed my dick against his lips which 
automatically opened and let me in.  I began the in-and-out.

"This is why," I said.

I felt his tongue again.  This was different.  His mouth felt looser 
than Elaine's.

"Suck!" I told him.

When he did that, it tightened up.  The thrills started and soon I was 
coming.  He felt the twitching and his eyes narrowed.  His cheeks 
ballooned out.  Now he was blowing?  Ah, he expected something.  But he
didn't get it.  When the good feeling got unbearable, I pulled out.

He licked his lips.  "You didn't jizz."

"No.  I haven't started yet."

"Let me show you how it tastes."

But I'd had enough.  That feeling has been arising with Elaine too, a 
little bit, right after I come, like yuck.  I get over it soon as I lick
her clit of course, but I wasn't sure licking a dick would work.

I said, "If somebody sees that door closed, they'll want in."  I backed
up and tucked in my dick.

He stood up out of the lectern and looked at me oddly.  "I sucked your 
dick."

"Yeah, you did.  You might like to know, the grownups would call you a 
cocksucker."

"A ... _cock_ sucker?"

"Some of them call a dick that."

"I guess you think I'm shit now."

"No.  Just queer.  See you upstairs."

"Still friends?"

"Sure."


Monday, July 7, 1952

When Mrs. Moore introduces me to a new piece of sheet music, she plays 
it first so I can hear how it's meant to go.  She's pretty good, can 
play them without practicing.  I know she doesn't practice because now 
and then she hesitates and sometimes hits the wrong sequence, says, 
"Dammit!" under her breath and repeats the sequence.

Today she played a new one for me, Grieg's _Piano Concerto_.  It has a 
hellacious opening arpeggio that she had to hesitate in several times.
She really got lost in the middle when I snaked my hand up her skirt and
started tapping her clit through her panties.

"Davey, what are you doing?"

"Accompanying you.  Like a metronome."

"How can you learn anything like that?"

"Maybe I'm showing you what I've already learned."

"Quit for just a moment."

So I quit, even removed my arm from between her legs.

"Get up," she said, which I did.

She looked at the clock on the wall, looked around at the windows and 
the fan, slid off the piano bench, raised her skirt to expose panties 
over a garter belt, pushed down the panties, stepped out of them and 
threw them behind the piano.  She turned the bench perpendicular to the
piano as she had done before, took a cloth off the top of the guest 
chair [an antimacassar? Ed.], laid out the cloth on the end of the bench
next to the piano and plopped her tail on it after raising her skirt 
again.  Then she spread her legs wide apart and resumed playing the 
concerto.

Pretty obvious what was next!  I knelt down beside her and brought my 
hand around.  She stopped playing, caught my hand, bent over and stuck 
my hand down her throat!

That's how it felt to me.

She pulled it out wet, let go of it and continued with the next bar of 
music.

Okay.  I started to put my fingers in the crack -- pussy crack, that is
-- but from my kneeling position her pussy hair was shining, which gave
me an idea.  I scooted under the bench, a tight fit and raised my face 
between her legs.  Her pussy odor was strong.  I stroked between the 
gaping lips with the full width of my tongue.  That stopped the music.

She quivered with each stroke and said.  "Oh, god, I can't believe this.
This may be the most lassivius [original sp., Ed.] feeling I've ever 
known!  Oh, fuck!"

It felt awful lascivious to me too.  I crawled out to kneel beside her 
and slipped my hand over her leg and into the wet hole, making the fist
after it entered.

"Oh, fuck, fuck!" she moaned.

I kept my hand still.  "Play the piano," I said.  "I'll keep time."  And
I began stroking at the 4/4 concerto time, which is slower than fucking.
I compensated by pushing harder.

Her stomach clenched and unclenched but she played.  Sort of.  Her 
timing was pretty good but she was only hitting the approximate keys on
the piano.  If anyone had been listening, I'm sure they would've thought
it was a student.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"  That didn't sound like a student!

She fell forward, banging the keys, her cheek resting on the sheet 
music.  I increased the tempo.  She groaned and gave out a screech, like
her throat was constricted.  It was loud and sounded terrible.

I withdrew my hand and stood up to look and listen, but all I heard was
the fan and all I saw was curtains fluttering.

She raised up, took a really deep breath and turned to me.  "Davey, I 
want you to promise me you'll never do that in here again.  Even if I 
ask you."

"Why?  Did it hurt you?"

"It was heaven!  But it could have ruined me."

"Can fisting ruin a woman?"

"Yes, especially if someone sees her letting a young boy do it."

"Oh."

"I guess I look a fright."

"Well, your face is kind of red and your skirt wrinkled, but otherwise 
you look all right."  I grinned proudly.  "Nobody else knows your 
panties are behind the piano."

"Oh, god, Davey!  Huh!  I started to say I don't know what possessed me,
but I do know only too well."

"'Possessed' you, like a demon?"

"Exactly: a twelve-year-old demon."

I chuckled a little.  Me, a demon!  With a grin I said, "I'm only 
practicing what I was taught."

"Oh, yes.  As I said, my dear, you are perfect."

She took another deep breath, got up and rearranged the piano bench.  
"Sit down and see what you can do with Mr. Grieg."

"Will you ... suck my cock?"

She looked doubtful.  Her eyes dropped.  "Is that what makes your 
britches stick out?"

I opened the buttons and showed her.

She smiled fondly.  "All right, Davey.  I guess I owe you.  Come here."

I went around to her end of the bench and stood beside her while she 
sucked.  She does it better than George.  Her tongue seems to fit me 
better.  The comparison suddenly made me wonder how many other cocks she
has sucked, but not enough to ask her right then.

Her mouth made another difference.  The climax felt very different.  It
has always felt like something should come out; now it felt like 
something did.  It felt like something squirted out of me.  Of course, 
the whole thing was in her mouth at the time so I couldn't tell.

But I could see the result.  Her eyes got big as marbles!  Her mouth 
worked.  I thought she would spit me out but she didn't.  I could see 
her throat convulsing and began to understand what it meant.

Not that she kept me in suspense.  When she backed away, she said, 
trying to keep her lips closed, "'Ook!" meaning "look."  She opened her
mouth wide.  Her tongue was coated with a whitish liquid.  She raised 
the tip and I could see a white puddle behind her bottom teeth.  She 
closed her mouth and swallowed.

"Davey!"  She licked her lips.  "When did you start ejaculating?"

"Did I do that?"

"You sure did."  She smiled widely.  "Was that your first time?"

"If that's what it was.  Do you mean I jizzed?"

"Oh, yes.  You jizzed, spewed, squirted, creamed, whitewashed my tonsils
and gave me 20 million half-babies, you sweet little man!"

"I did what?"

"Wait till I tell Sherry!"  Suddenly she looked around guiltily and 
lowered her voice.  "Get control, Elaine!"

It was none too soon.  The doorbell sounded.

Elaine's face blanched.  She whispered, "God, that's Janet Hutton.  
Davey, excuse me.  I have to tell a lie."

She stood up and added, "Button your fly."

She went into the foyer and opened the door.  "Janet, you're a bit 
early."

The girl said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Moore.  Can I wait inside until you 
finish?"

"Oh, we're finished now.  Come on in."

She led Janet into the room and said to me, "Davey, go wash your hands 
before you go home.  I shouldn't have let you play with such dirty 
hands.  Excuse me, Janet, while I wipe off the piano keys."

As I headed to her bathroom, I saw her wiping the keys with that same 
cloth she had been sitting on.  Would her pussy odor get on the keys?

Despite all that, I knocked on her backdoor tonight at dark.  She let me
in and motioned past her.  I went down to the basement and took off my 
clothes.  By that time she was waiting on the bed for me, also naked.

I grinned at her.  "Did Janet guess?"

"How could she?  Piano teachers don't suck students' cocks and don't let
the students fist their twats.  Unless they're very lucky."

"Lucky students?"

"Lucky teachers!"

"Couldn't she have smelled your pussy on the piano keys?"

She blinked.  "You mean how I wiped them?  I only pretended to wipe."  
Her eyes fell to my dick.  "Give me that stiff little thing.  Let me see
if it's really loaded."

I said, "This time I want to see what comes out."

She grinned and added a giggle.  "Greedy Elaine got every drop, didn't 
she?  Poor little fellow, wants to see it with his own beady blues."

"Cut out that talk!"

"Can't talk with my mouth full."

I pushed it at her and she filled her mouth, balls and all again.  I 
swear I could feel her nose in my belly and her tongue _behind_ my 
balls, halfway to my asshole.

"God, Elaine!" I said, figuring if she could curse so could I.

When I came, she held her mouth wide open with the dick head resting on
her outthrust tongue.  I watched white lines spurt into her throat, 
three or four, before a last dribble.  All the while her fingers stroked
the shaft.  With twinkling eyes she bobbed forward and closed her mouth
around it for a last suck, which made me shake.

"Was that what little Davey wanted?" she asked, backing away.

"I guess.  What's it taste like?"

"Semen and sperm.  Do you know what jizz is, Davey?"

"I know it's supposed to make babies."

"Yeah, when you squirt it into a fertile twat.  Fortunately mine isn't,
so we won't have to worry if you do manage such a squirt.  But this is 
interesting.  The schools are failing to do their job.  You'd think 
they'd teach a boy all about it before he starts wetting his pants."

"Well, what is it?"

"It's full of human germs, Davey, meant to infect a fertile woman."

"Infect her?"

"With one or more babies.  You should be aware of that potential when 
you start squirting other twats."

"What other twats!"

"Oh, you'll find them.  I'm confident of that."

"Will it hurt anything besides a ... twat?"

"No.  You can squirt it down anybody's throat or up their fundament with
no problem.  Tell me something.  Why didn't you check it out for 
yourself after you left me this afternoon?  Obviously you didn't."

"I don't know."  It struck me as odd that I hadn't thought of it.  But 
then I understood.  "Yes, I do.  I don't jack off when I know I'll be 
seeing you soon."

She looked curious.  "Why is that, Davey?"

"Because it feels so much better when you suck it."

She chuckled fondly.  "Yes, of course.  Well, now it's my turn to feel 
good, Davey."

This was the first time I ever fisted her twice in one day.  When I got
home, I took her suggestion, jerked off and checked the results.  It 
seems that semen and sperm tastes a little like fish oil, very mild, and
a little like chicken soup.  It needs salt.

I finally found out that one of the definitions of _fundament_ is the 
asshole.  Why would men jizz into women's assholes?

And I'm curious about something else.  Does all jizz taste the same?


END of Booklet 2
Contact kellis@dhp.com

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