1. The Adventures of Dennis: Stains


    Date: 9/6/2015, Categories: College Sex, Author: Tomjones88, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    squirt (I know that isn’t what it’s called, but what the hell am I supposed to call it?) is clearer and less milky than semen, so it looked like she’d contributed to the edges of the puddle while I’d filled in the center. I turned on the light to get a better look at it. The way it looked in the light makes my description sound even more masterful. Looking at Renee sitting up, naked, just removed from this puddle, glancing down at it with a hint of red in her face, and glancing back up at me, I could tell that I was the first guy to make her aware that she had this particular ability. “Dennis,” she said. “Come on, help me get some paper towels.” I suddenly felt nauseous. I shook my head and dashed in to the bathroom. I threw myself on to the toilet and promptly puked my guts out. It was quick, but it was vicious. I kept my head on the bowl for a couple minutes, spitting and waiting to make sure there was only one load. I though about the ungainly amount of body fluids I’d come in to direct contact with that night. I had probably created some kind of deadly virus already. I wiped off the toilet seat and this time wiped off my cock. I flushed the toilet and walked back in to the living room. Renee sat there on the side of the bed. She had put a t-shirt and her panties on. She looked at me strangely. There was a hint of a smile on her face. Otherwise her eyes had the sort of look you have when you’ve become involved in something that’s really fun but also very wrong. She had ...
    cleaned up the puddle. There was only a faint dampness on the sheets. I felt, watching her sit there, while she looked at her buck-naked fuck-buddy newly emerged from the bathroom, like a sort of conqueror, which is exactly what I was. I fell on the bed beside her. I went to sleep to her high, restless breathing. My dreams that night: I was at a conference, wearing a suit and tie. A large audience of bespectacled people in suits sat before me; I stood on a platform and lectured. I pointed at vague figures on a blackboard. Someone asked a question that began with “But Dennis…” I replied, “Well actually, as my research continued, I found it was also possible to make a chick squirt!” Everybody hummed in unison and nodded. Everybody furiously took notes. Amelia sat at the back of the crowd. She had her hand raised and I didn’t call on her. I was the head of a penis (mine?) moving back and forth between bright pink walls. I realized I was inside a vagina (Renee’s?). A round, swelled G-spot rose up in front of me and started talking to me in a low female voice. I forget what was said. Then it turned to a male voice. Then nothing. I fell and fell in to a dark puddle. It became bigger and bigger until I realized it was a lake. I could not stop myself from falling. A prolonged female cry sounded in my ears as I plunged in to the water. III. The Solution The next day, Renee drove me home. She lived off campus, with her parents. She was my only access to a car (well, her and sometimes ...
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