For Love of Cum

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Many, many, many years ago... as in decades... I read something that said that an empty prostate was a happy prostate. And me being me, I perhaps went a little overboard. Rather than empty that thing out once per day, it was a daily chore of six, seven, or eight... *cough*... ah, cleanups.

Not that the wife minded just a whole terrible lot once she found me. And volunteered to help me with that chore. Six, seven, and eight times per day was just about right in her opinion.

Well, shit happens, as it has a tendency to do. And a full hysterectomy got involved. (And let me just say if you guys have a chance to sit in on your gals OB/GYN appointment, DON'T! Until the day I die I will have flashbacks of a tall, elegant, prim lady doctor looking over her glasses at me and commenting, in a thick accent reminiscent of Dr. Ruth, about extensive uterine bruising. As in decades worth. :eek:)


Any road, being a caring and attentive lover, no way in hell was I going to ask her to do anything for a minimum of six weeks. I mean, I'd been taking care of that chore myself for a long time before she came over my horizon. It wasn't near as much fun, no. But, I knew I could do it.


*sigh* Only hormones and emotions and stuff got involved.

I wasn't exactly forbidden from cumming, no. I just don't work that way. Forbidding me from doing something is the surest way anyone has ever found to make sure I waste very little time doing that exact thing.

But, I was sensitive enough to notice that me slipping off elsewhere to take care of it was bothering her. And lying there in her arms while I did it was making her horny and making her ache.


Holding in cum for 40 days and nights when you have, for decades, dumped that shit six, seven, and eight times per day... er... does odd things to a guy.

The first night "back in the saddle," so to speak, wasn't really very noteworthy as neither of us lasted our usual hours. More like ten or fifteen minutes.

However...

However, when I came, it was so hard that I actually rocked back on my heels, pulling out of her. My hips were between her knees as my first streamer of cum in far, far too long shot out of me...

... and hit her in the eye.

And there was a lot. I mean, seriously. I've been around for a while now, and I, too, tend to look askance at descriptions like "buckets of cum" or even "a tablespoon."


But, I admit, a lot of that may have been because I'd spent so long making sure there wasn't much building up before I got rid of it. And, perhaps, inadvertently causing my body to manufacture more of the stuff than "normal" (whatever the fuck that is).

Well, the shot that hit her eye formed a fucking pond of the stuff against her eyelid. No exaggeration, it looked like a damn teaspoon of the milky fluid there alone.

My second volcanic launch only reached as far as her tits. And formed a river there in the valley between them.

My third filled her navel.

The fourth frosted her pubic hair.

The fifth was really more of a dribble that coated the insides of her thighs on it's way to the mattress since I'd groaned and leaned forward once more, feeling light-headed and fucking exhausted.

She burst out laughing and said, "Oh, my God! That's a lot of cum!"

"You did it," I panted. (I hadn't actually noticed either where it had hit, or how much there was just yet, since my eyes were closed.) "You are the one that got me that excited."

THEN, she started calling my attention to just where it had hit, and how very much there was.

And had me go get a towel to dab most of it off before it spilled and made the mess bigger.

I hadn't ever done that before and didn't ever do it again. But, that one episode after forty days and nights of abstinance has usually been on my mind whenever this thread catches my eye.


***we now return you to what you actually came for... hot pics***

Hilarious!
 
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