It gives you...


Erotica by Joe Tortuga

Public Service Announcement

(from the archives, humor, MF)

February 20, 2013

**The following transcribed by computer from audio.


Greetings Female Netizens! I’m Ron Shale, and I’ve got an important message for you! Having Man trouble? Is he too much ‘smash bam thank you ma’am’? is he all ‘how about a blowjob’ this, ‘how about a screw’ that? Need a little time spent focusing on you? And I don’t mean the time when you’re alone! Well my girl Sylvia and I have the perfect answer for you. Just listen to this:
We first made our discovery one day when Sylvia and I were sitting around her den eating pizza.
She’d discovered this cool college radio station—WQFS, and we’d been listening to it for awhile, amused at the variety. It’s not like a commercial station where they play maybe 20 or 30 different songs over and over. Instead it’s like whim of the moment. If some college kid sees (or brings in) some track he wants to play, he does. And if someone calls in a request, well if they have it, they play it. Keeps them from having to figure out what to play, I guess.

Anyway, I was scarfing down some patented PieWorks pepperoni pizza, when I hear a strange song on the air. I looked over at Sylvia, and she nodded, and started singing, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down.” By this time I had finished chewing, and joined her with “In the most delightful waaaayyyy!”

We sang through the song, giggling with each other. When it was over, Sylvia said, “You know, most things are better with sugar.” I gave her some sugar then, until she pushed away from me. “No, I meant the other kind,” she said, giggling.

“Well that’s true,” I said. “Except for pizza.” I took a bite of more of the delicious pizza.

“Even PieWorks has sweet pizzas…” she argued.

“Well, that’s true. I’ll concede the point. Everything is better with sugar.” There really wasn’t any point in arguing. Like I said before, she’s always right.

Well, the next day was payday, and I took her out to eat. I don’t remember where, or what we ate, since as we were getting out of the car, she whispered in my ear, “Don’t order dessert, I’ve got something sweet back at the house.” And I knew what she meant. Or I thought I did.

When we got back to her place, she unlocked the door, and handed me the keys. She asked me to go get some stuff out of her car, while she made dessert. I sighed, and said “Ok” even though it was looking like dessert was going to be cake or something boring.

So when I got all that stuff back up to her apartment, she called to me from her bedroom. She was laying on the bed, naked as the day she was born, legs and arms wide, just ready for me. She smiled coyly at me, as I quickly got out of my clothes.

The radio was playing, WQFS of course, and the DJ was on, “Well an interesting request out there for Ron and Sylvia. Here you go guys, from Mary Poppins, ‘A Spoonful of Sugar’” I looked at the radio, then at Sylvia, and arched my eyebrow. She grinned at me and said, “Sugar makes everything better, right?”

I nodded, and she reached down to her side of the bed and brought out some Whipped Cream. “Let’s test that theory.”

The whipped cream was still cold, so she shivered as I applied it to her breasts and led a trail down to her nether lips. I hesitated to put something that cold down there, but she just rocked her hips, and said, “Go for it —the cold feels good..” As I put it on, she drew her breath in sharply, then slowly let it out.

I moved onto the bed, kneeling between her legs, and worked my mouth over her breasts, licking and playing with them. I played it like a game, trying to get every last bit of the whipped cream off. I followed the trail from one breast down to her belly button, then back up to the other. By the time I’d finished licking it up she was moaning and rocking her hips.

I nibbled a bit on her right nipple tasting the sweetness of it. I looked at her, and said “I always knew you were my sweetie.”

She just looked at me and said, “You’re not done, sweetie”

I moved back down and carefully cleaned out her bellybutton of all whipped cream, and slowly worked my way down there.

I’m no expert at cunnilingus, but by the time I was in position, she was already hot and bothered, and getting pretty wet. The mixture of her juices and the Whipped Cream made a scrumptious delicacy I’d never tasted before, and I was determined to get as much as possible. And that was just due to the taste! Once I heard her moans and sighs, I started to really get into it.

My world shrank to just what I was doing: How good it tasted and how much it was affecting her. All I wanted to do was lick more and more of that sweet, tasty juice. Sometime in there she started bucking hard against my face, but I stayed focused on what I was doing. So much so, I barely noticed when she came.

She breathlessly told me, “You can stop now,” and I started to come back to my senses. I crawled back up on top and looked down at her. Sylvia had a contented look on her face, and a very happy grin.

I rocked my hips, and slid into her sopping wet pussy, and slowly moved in and out of her. As I moved, I looked down at her glistening skin where the whipped cream had been, her sugar-coated breasts, and her contented grin.

I put my arms around her shoulders, and held her tight, happy to just be there with her. I kept moving slowly, and rhythmically, in and out of her, trying to make the moment last as long as possible. “That wazh good, ” she said. “Shugar really helps..”

“Yes, Yes it does,” I replied, taking one hand to brush her hair back, as I slowly drove my cock deep into her.

She looked up at me, and I smiled down at her. “Fuck me,” she said and gave me a wanton look. She swivelled her hips in that way that tightens everything down on my cock, and I just lost control.

I levered myself back up on my arms and closed my eyes, and went at it, pistoning in and out. The feel of her velvety lips was just luxurious. Then I remembered the taste of her—the taste still in my mouth—and the thought drove me to go faster, and faster, and faster. Finally I came, and collapsed, exhausted, next to her.

“That, ” I gasped, tired, “was good.”

“Yes it was…”

We talked for a bit, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next day I caught her humming a Mary Poppins tune, and we did it again. She’s got new words for it, something like ‘Makes the boyfriend go down, makes the boyfriend go down, In the most delightful way.’ All I can say is, it’s definitely turned up the heat for us. And especially for Sylvia. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.

So, ladies, that’s the big secret. Remember that the road to a man’s heart is his stomach, but his taste buds might get him to go other places. And if you guys feel left out, that this PSA wasn’t for you, well, remember—

Oh hi Sylvia, I was just finishing up.

Oh, my. Yes, that feels good, yes…hmmm.. So, ummmmm, guys, remember, oh yeah… This um, works for [gasp] you too, because oh,oh.oh! yes!…the ladies will… mmmm …they’ll their…oh yess…yessss,. .that’s it…their ahahah…gratitude. ..yeah! gratitude!

Um we can clean this up in post, right?
Upstairs is an earlier (also stand-alone) story with this couple.

Joe Tortuga

Written by Joe Tortuga a bisexual dominant erotica writer and programmer (he/him). Follow me on Twitter