My Friend Rob Gets Cut, Part One

Copyright 2003 D.Reynolds

Rob looked more anxious than usual. The blowjob I'd just given him had relaxed him some, but as I licked the last salty drops of his sperm from my lips, I realized that something was really bothering him. I pressed my lips to his, prompting him to smile briefly before another frown creased his face.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's my wife," he said. "She wants to have me castrated."

This came as a surprise to me, but not a great one. Let me explain myself a little. I'm a sexually generous woman. I have no qualms about doing sexual favors for close friends of mine, male and female. In one year I will give more blowjobs than most women give in a decade. Casual sex with people I trust and care about is no big deal for me--and I am very, very careful. I'd been sucking Rob's dick a lot lately. His wife, Jessica, wasn't interested in sex from him anymore, and he was the last to know. Jessica had become a size queen and Rob's 5.5 inches just couldn't cut it for her anymore.

"How do you feel about it?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said, looking down.

I hesitated before replying: "I think you should let her."

Rob glared at me in disbelief. "You want me to let her mutilate me? I thought you were my friend."

"I AM your friend," I protested. "I'm thinking about what's good for you."

"How would it be good for me to be mutilated?!" he sneered.

"Don't think of it as mutilation, Rob," I said, resisting the urge to snap at him.

Rob stared at me with an expression of cautious curiosity.

"Rob," I said, placing my hand on his smooth chest, "Your wife no longer wants sex from you--you have to accept that." I felt genuinely sorry for him.

He gulped as his eyes began to dilate. He turned away. He didn't want me to see him cry.

"I know it's torture for you," I said, pressing up against his strong back. "That's why I think you should let her do it to you."

I kissed him on the neck as I continued in my most soothing tone: "I don't mind being a sexual outlet for you, Rob--you know that. I'll let you fuck me raw if you need to, but fucking me is not the same as fucking your wife. You love her--you don't love me."

Rob turned at me with a hurt look: "How can you say that? You know I love you."

"You love me," I admitted with a smile, "But you love me as a friend. It doesn't hurt you that I fuck other guys. Your wife is different."

"I guess you're right . . . "

He looked so defeated. I felt sick. It must look like the worst betrayal when your wife wants to have you nutted and your side-action agrees it's a good idea. He raised himself from the bed and started pacing.

"I can't go back there tonight," he muttered. "Jonas is there." Jonas was Jessica's new lover--a black man with an enormous penis (something like 10 inches) and great big gravy-makers to go with it.

"Stay here tonight then," I said, wrapping my arms around him. "You could use a warm body close by. You don't have to fuck me."

He turned to kiss me full on the mouth and placed his hand on my mons. I love being touched there. He brought his face down to my chest as I ran my fingers through his hair.

"You're better than I deserve, Danni," he whimpered.

"Hush," I whispered. Dessert has nothing to do with how I accomodate my friends.

I let him linger at my breasts for awhile, then I gently pushed his head away.

"I'm going to call your wife," I told him. I went to use the phone in the kitchen out of consideration for him. There were several rings before a female voice picked up.

"Hello Jessica. This is Danni."

"Hi," she said. "What's up?" She sounded lighthearted but slightly perturbed. I had probably interrupted something with Jonas.

"Rob's here," I said. "He's going to spend the night."

"Oh," she said, a note of anxiety in her tone. "Did he say anything . . . disturbing?"

"He told me you want to fix him, if that's what you mean," I replied.

The other end of the line was silent.

"It's okay," I said. "I understand."

"I'm relieved," she said with a sigh.

"Don't worry about it," I assured her.

Rob slept with me that night. We explored each other's bodies slowly and and tenderly. Neither of us had an orgasm, but we got our fill of each other's smell and taste.

It was a number of days before I heard from Rob again. He came to my door looking more relaxed than he had in a long time. I was glad to see him feeling better.

"I've made a decision," he told me over a bottle of beer. "I'm going to let Jessica do it."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. "It's not a reversible decision."

He took a long pull from his bottle before answering.

"I am," he replied. "I don't want to divorce my wife. She means too much to me . . . and I can't stand the thought of another man screwing her while I'm still virile."

"I think you're choosing wisely," I told him, placing my hand on his and looking into his eyes.

We made some small talk but it wasn't long before we were in the bedroom and I was sucking his dick as I had so often in the last month. Because he was more relaxed and didn't have such a pressing need to cum, I took my time about it, savoring the taste, the smell, the texture. He moaned in pleasure and whispered about how good I was to him. As he emptied the contents of his balls into my mouth and on my face I thought about the unique flavor of his sperm and how I was going to miss it.

More To Come . . .