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Show 123 irresistible sensation at least, probably ecstasy, and instead I felt anesthetized, as if I had vacated my body. It ended regardless. So that was SCHSd-ffC* it. I'd felt more.in a wet dream. "OK, get off." The Bible says it is better to throw your seed into the belly of a whore than to spill it on the ground and I had wanted to do the right thing, but this whore had turned out less of a kick than when I'd first inhaled and got that nicotine rush, let alone while spilling my seed all around on the ground, that intimation of ecstasy. She pushed me off on the side near the wall so she could swing her legs over the bed and use a towel, then summoned me for another wash. Standing with the towel gripped between her thighs, she filled a syringe and squirted a liquid up my urethra, pinched the eye closed to hold it in. The liquid stung fiercely, the only real sensation in the whole thing. Then she told me to use the sink to get rid of it, tossed the towel aside, dropped her dress over her head and was ready to leave, my first woman. "Just go on downstairs when you're dressed," she said, and pressed her palm to her forehead. "Take another aspirin," I suggested, but she was gone. Dressed, I felt less vulnerable. I had paid my money to treat her like an object but had not expected to be treated like an object in turn. Still, I'd made it through it all right, and I lit an English Oval, hung it from my lip and swaggered downstairs. Ross jumped up from a chair. "Where'n the hell have you been? I've been waiting half an hour." I blew smoke into the air. "I didn't want to rush it," I said, the old stud. We went to a bar to talk it over, and I changed a few facts out of manly obligation to make a better reality. Ross was impressed-until I smiled |