A Fishing Story

I knew Bill well enough to expect that he would take about 5 minutes. At least, he almost always did. I thought frantically about how I could get off before he came back – it wasn't going to be this way. Kathy was apparently thinking along the same lines. She hopped off and slid under the kitchen table. She grabbed my dick and went to work on it with her mouth, while at the same time undoing my belt and opening my pants. This gave her room to insert her hand, to play with my balls, and to stroke me with her hand at the base of my shaft while using her lips at the top. With this sort of double attention from the literal woman of my dreams, I didn't last long. I couldn't exactly yell "I'm cumming!", so instead I kept my mouth shut and squeezed my eyes tight and bottled it all in. The first shot jolted me like popping the clutch in a Camaro as I let loose a hot blob that must have been the size of a walnut. Kathy continued to milk me, but soon replaced her mouth with her cupped hand. She milked the sperm from me into her cupped hand as I pumped and pumped and pumped.

When I was done, she popped her head up from under the table with a smile that was comical because her mouth was stuffed. She hadn't swallowed. She grabbed my empty coffee cup from the table, poured the contents of her palm into it, and then disgorged the contents of her mouth into the same container. Then she beamed at me. We heard the toilet flush, and she had only just enough time to stand and turn the other way before Bill swept into the room. From behind the robe looked normal. "So where's breakfast? What've you been doing?"

She replied, "Oh, I was just about to get Jimmy another cup of coffee." She placed the cup with the semen into the cupboard, and pulled out a clean coffee cup, which she filled and gave to me.

"Me too." Bill said, picking up the sports section and holding out his cup.

Bill and I made light conversation and read the paper while Kathy listened to the radio while frying bacon. When she asked how we wanted our eggs, I picked "over easy" and Bill asked for scrambled. Kathy wanted scrambled as well, so she fixed mine first and, placing them in front of me, told me to go ahead and eat while the eggs were warm.

Then Kathy broke five eggs into a bowl, added a little milk, and began to whisk. Then she glanced at me and winked. I saw her reach into the cupboard, take out the coffee cup that she had put in there before, and pour the contents into the eggs. I almost choked. She winked at me, and then poured the eggs into the pan and cooked them.

I watched, bemused, while Bill and Kathy ate their eggs. They both seemed to enjoy them. Kathy can be a bit of a devil – she waited until I was taking a sip of coffee to ask Bill "So how do you like the eggs? Are they a little too salty?" He only grunted but I went into a coughing fit that lasted several minutes.

After breakfast, as I was leaving, Bill walked me to the door. On the porch he said, "Thanks for covering for me, pal."

"No problem, Bill. All things considered, though, I think you should let me know when you tell her you're spending the night at my place. Leave a voice mail or something, so I can be prepared if she asks. We can spend as much time together as you like, if you know what I mean." I winked, and he nodded, grinning. The moron.

One thing about Bill's fooling around – it meant that I got those calls about Bill "staying over" frequently. Of course, Kathy and I fucked like bunnies on those nights, but more important, I supported her ego and listened to her. We grew closer and closer together. Eventually she had the strength and confidence to kick Bill out of her life for good. Kathy and I have been married now for five years, we have two kids, and I never, never fail to appreciate how important she is in my life and how lucky I was that I remembered to go fishing that one day. But I will not let her fix eggs for me any way but poached; call me superstitious.