The Nut Spill [M26/F35] [Erotic massage, edging, huge load, breeding]

I sat in the lobby of the carpeted massage parlor in a comfy chair and waited for my name to be called. I wouldn’t say there were porn magazines laying around to look at, but some of the content I found in the lobby was fairly sexual.

I was intrigued by a sex therapy magazine, and I was flipping through it when a thick but fairly short brunette (MILF) in white scrubs came to the door and interrupted my reading by calling my name. “Bryan,” she smiled.

I followed her back to a room in the back, watching her voluptuous ass bounce from side to side as her hips rolled and beckoned me to follow.

She led me into a small darkly-lit room (lit completely by candlelight) where meditation music played softly, and the woman introduced herself as Elizabeth.

“Go ahead and get undressed,” Elizabeth said. “Lay face down on the table with this towel over you, and I’ll come back in a couple of minutes.”

Elizabeth left the room and I undressed completely. I folded my clothes neatly and laid them on a chair beside the padded massage bed. (My boxer briefs lay folded neatly on top.)

I lay face down on the padded bed, pulled the soft towel over my nude buttocks, and placed my face in the padded ring at the top of the table. I stared at the floor and was relaxed by the semi-darkness and the soft music that surrounded me.

I had never had a professional massage before, so as I lay there, I tried my hardest not to get an erection (trying not to think too much about the sex therapy magazine in the waiting room). I hadn’t had sex or masturbated in several days, after all, and I also kept thinking about the massage therapist’s sexy-fat ass.

I heard the door open and close again after a few minutes, and soft footsteps told me that Elizabeth was back in the room with me. “How do you feel?” She asked in a soft voice. “Are you comfortable?”

“Very comfortable,” I said. (I pictured her ass and tried to focus on other things as she placed her soft, warm palms on my back and began to softly rub me down.)

“This is a warm-up,” Elizabeth said. “I’m not going to use any oil until you’re nice and relaxed—I can tell you’re tense.”

What Elizabeth didn’t know (and maybe she did) was that she was the main source of my tension. I was here for recreational purposes—I had wanted to get a professional massage for several years, but had finally decided to go for it. All along, it had been the thought of an awkward situation (like getting a boner on the table) that had kept me from doing it in the first place.

The last thing I wanted was to roll over on my back halfway through the hour (if she was even going to ask me to do that) and reveal a hard cock to the masseuse. (But surely she had seen such things?)

She rubbed her soft palms slowly and sensually over my back, caressing me, and getting me “warmed up”. She rubbed my shoulders for a bit, but it wasn’t a deep-tissue massage or anything—She just rubbed her soft hands all over me like we were getting ready to make love.

Finally, she poured warm oil onto my back and began to use the base of her palm (and then finally her arm and elbow) to rub across my tight muscles to relieve me of the stress-induced knots. “You’re really knotty,” Elizabeth said, catching me off-guard—It was the first thing either of us had said in fifteen minutes.

I laughed (it was probably a nervous laugh).

“Not like that,” Elizabeth said in her soft and comforting tone. “You have a lot of knots in your back muscles.”

“I’ve needed this for a while,” I said.

“Do you experience a lot of stress in your everyday life?” Elizabeth asked.

“Not really,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m so knotty.” I took the opportunity to play with her a bit, betraying my primary objective to keep a flaccid penis.

My cock began to take shape beneath me.

Elizabeth laughed. “Don’t be naughty,” she said.

She massaged my back (upper to lower), and then moved to my shoulders after about twenty minutes. When she found them satisfactory, she began to massage my neck from my shoulders up to the base of my skull. It was when she got up near my head that the blood really started to flow in my lower regions—Her hands felt so good on my neck that it almost tickled, sending tingles all the way down to my feet.

“That feels so good,” I said.

“Mmm,” Elizabeth purred, using her thumb and index finger to pinch my tight neck muscles tightly and get up in there good. She pinched hard and rubbed around in small circles to relieve the knots at the base of my skull.

When she had finished, she ran her fingertips lightly down my back (from my shoulders all the way down to my lower back), and then she asked if I was comfortable with her removing the towel.

“Sure,” I said, not wanting to seem weird or uncool. (I was nervous.)

My growing cock hung down between my legs (so I wasn’t laying on it), and Elizabeth must have seen it as she removed the towel and began to massage my upper hamstrings.

She ran her oily fists up my hamstrings and all the way up my butt cheeks. I could feel her (unintentionally) prying my butt cheeks apart, and I knew that she had now seen everything—I had no more secrets from her (except maybe one).

As she rubbed on me, my cock became harder, and I was sure it had even begun to drool on the massage table in front of her.

Elizabeth worked my glutes, my hamstrings, my calf muscles, and then finally massaged my feet, popping each one of my toes.

I should have been coming here for years!

Now that she had seen everything, I was no longer nervous—Now it turned me on that she was seeing my erect cock (and other private parts).

Elizabeth tapped me on the hip. “Roll over,” she said, and I obeyed.

I lay on my back, fingers clasped and resting beneath my head as Elizabeth worked her way up now, from my feet, up my calf muscles, up my quads and the insides of my thighs, and then began to use her thumbs to press up into my groin on both sides of my scrotum. (She was truly handling my body as if she owned it.)

She massaged my upper groin, my stomach, my chest (again using the bases of her palms to rub out the big muscles), and then finally she massaged my arms.

I became fully erect when she finally made her way down to my hands and began to massage my palms with her strong but nimble fingers. She interlaced her oily fingers in my own, and locked into her like that, I felt like we were lovers (such was the connection her touches had created between us—At least on my end).

“That’s an hour,” Elizabeth said, finally, running her soft fingertips down my chest and stomach and stopping just above my pubes. She began to lightly play in and tickle my pubic hair.

I opened my eyes for the first time in an hour and looked at her—Our eyes met.

Neither of us said anything for a moment, but I knew we were both aware of my throbbing erection, and in that silence I wondered what would happen next. Surely, sex was out of the question—This was a professional establishment.

“Have you heard of sex therapy?” Elizabeth asked after an eternal moment.

I admitted that I had been reading up on it out in the lobby.

“Well,” Elizabeth said. “Traditional sex therapy is talking through issues—bringing potential problems to light. What we offer here is something different.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Well,” Elizabeth started. “Here’s the deal. When is the last time you ejaculated?”

My eyes must have gotten wide, or I must have betrayed my emotional spasms in some other way, because she quickly reassured me. “This is for medical purposes,” she said. “Let me explain to you the way it works.”

I looked down at my cock that was drooling precum all over my stomach.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Elizabeth said, picking through my pubes absent-mindedly but still making eye contact with me. “But if you were to just go into the bathroom and ejaculate quickly, there would not be nearly as much semen compared to a situation in which you took your time and masturbated over the course of, say, an hour.”

“Oh yeah?” I was intrigued. I mean, I could definitely confirm that what she said was true to some extent.

“Your volume can nearly double if you take your time,” she said. “But here’s the thing. It’s unlikely that you will ever unlock your true potential to release your full volume (a full load, if you will) without professional techniques.”

“You do that here?” I asked.

“We do,” she said. “It can be pricey, but I promise you it’s worth it.”

“I haven’t cum in…sorry…” I corrected myself. “I haven’t ejaculated in a few days.”

“Your muscles were very tight,” Elizabeth said. “And if you say you don’t notice a lot of stress in your everyday life, it’s likely the stress could be subconscious…or even unconscious.”

“What’s the treatment like?” I asked.

“Well, in simple terms,” Elizabeth said. “I would bring you to a full release.”

My face was hot and growing hotter.

“Does that sound like something you would be interested in?” Elizabeth asked.

“How much does it cost?” I asked.

“Well, the beauty of it is that it’s just one session,” she said. “And also, you get to ejaculate! That’s pretty hard to beat, yeah?”

“How expensive are we talking?” I asked.

“I’ll do you today for three hundred.” I couldn’t believe she’d worded it like that.

“Okay,” I said, blushing. (I hadn’t had to think about it.)

“Good!” Elizabeth said. “You’re going to feel so much better—And don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

I entered the small (also candle-lit) back room where more soft meditation music played, and the first thing I noticed was the circular cutout in the padded massage bed. (I had seen these things in porn videos, and my heart began to race even more rapidly than before.)

I was aware of my cock swinging stiffly in front of me as I moved toward the padded bed with Elizabeth’s warm hand on my lower back guiding me along (not that I needed guiding).

Elizabeth reached around me and placed a warm hand on my stomach, stopping me in my tracks just before I reached the bed. She reached around me with both hands and rubbed my chest—She pinched and played with my nipples!—And she finally made her way down to my inner thighs where she squeezed with all of her fingertips and then pulled upward again into my tight groin muscles.

Without warning, she grabbed my cock in one hand and my balls in the other—I throbbed in her grasp. I gasped!

“You have a nice package,” Elizabeth said, and I could feel my face flush. “Of course, that’s my professional opinion,” she added.

She let go of me and with one hand again on my lower back, she urged me forward toward the padded massage bed.

“Lie on your stomach,” Elizabeth said, now with no need for the pretense of a towel. (I guess she just assumed I knew what the saucer-sized hole in the bed was for, and she was right.)

I lay down on the bed on my stomach and dropped my cock and balls down through the hole to dangle heavily beneath me. (It was an odd sensation having my whole body supported by the table, yet having my cock and balls hang down low. I loved feeling their weight as my “impressive package” dangled somewhere below me.) I loved that Elizabeth could see me like that, in the willingly vulnerable position, my cock and balls isolated now from the rest of my body.

I felt a warm hand grasp both my cock and balls simultaneously and give them gentle but firm caresses. Soon, Elizabeth’s warm hand wrapped around both my cock and balls and began to tug lightly at the them so that I could feel the exaggerated weight of their presence.

“All you need to do is relax,” I heard Elizabeth’s voice coming from beside me. “Relax and focus on how good it feels while I play with you.”

She continued to lightly tug at me and tickle, and I did as she said—I just closed my eyes and focused on enjoying the unbelievable experience.

“I can already tell you’re going to fill the container,” Elizabeth said. “I’ve seen guys who normally only ejaculate a teaspoon at a time, which is normal, who, when I do this treatment on them, they fill a ball jar halfway to the rim.”

Before long, I felt something like elastic slip over my cock head, and I felt something small and metallic against the underside of my knob. “So, I’ve put one of these on you,” Elizabeth said, and I turned my head to look at her. She held up what looked like a small bullet on a thin elastic strap. “This small vibrator is going to pulse at random on the underside of your glans,” she said.

“My what?” I asked.

“The head of your penis,” Elizabeth said, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like fun,” I said.

“Well, it’s not exactly random,” she admitted, holding up a small remote. “I’ll be controlling it, but to you it will feel extremely random.”

“Okay,” I said and put my face back into the padded circle meant for that purpose. The pressure of the small bullet against my cock knob felt good.

The first buzz lasted only a second, but it sent a such a rush of blood to my head (both of my heads, in fact) that I moaned loudly.

“Feel good?” Elizabeth asked, and I could tell that she was smiling.

“It felt amazing,” I said as the second buzz went off (a shorter buzz this time that was quickly followed up by another). My cock twitched and jerked with each and every buzz, and I continued to moan my approval.

Elizabeth buzzed me like that for fifteen minutes or so—I can’t say that I was keeping track of time… Sometimes she hit me only once every thirty seconds, and sometimes she hit me with a long buzz that lasted upwards of five seconds. Sometimes she buzzed me with ten quick buzzes in a row to keep me guessing.

“I’m going to give it to you good now,” Elizabeth said finally. “I need you to tell me though when you’re getting ready to ejaculate.”

The word “ejaculate” seemed so intense to me at that point, like the word alone might make me unload. “Okay,” I murmured.

“Don’t push it,” Elizabeth said. “When you start to feel it, you need to let me know immediately.

“Okay,” I said.

I was hit by the most intense buzz yet—She must have turned up the power on the remote—and it just kept going and going. The long buzz all-too-soon became a series of short buzzes in rapid fire, one after the other that forced me out toward the edge of climax.

The warmth began to build up within me, and I began to thrust my hips into the padded bed. “I’m going to cum,” I said, and the vibrations stopped immediately.

There was silence in the room for a few moments while my cock twitched and throbbed, and for a moment, I thought I might go over. When my cock began to settle a bit, Elizabeth removed the bullet from me and said simply, “Good.”

“What now?” I asked.

“We’re accessing your well,” Elizabeth said. “We’re not going to get to your massive reserves unless we go very deep.”

“So, what now?”

I felt Elizabeth place a thumb firmly against my taint, and I flinched. “We need to engage your prostate,” she said. “But if you’re not willing to have a massager inserted, we can access it through the perineum.”

“I’d rather not have anything in my ass,” I said.

“Have you ever played with your anus or had a woman touch it during sex?” Elizabeth asked.

“It’s okay when someone touches it,” I said. “I just don’t like anything being put inside.”

“So you don’t mind if I play with you a bit down there?”

“That’s fine,” I said. I actually loved the intense sensation of a woman touching my butthole, though I’d only experienced it once or twice in my life.

“The anus is what we call an erogenous zone,” Elizabeth said, continuing to softly put pressure against my taint with her thumb. “Which just means it’s very sensitive to sexual stimulation.”

She began to tickle my pubes that ran from my balls to my ass crack, and she surprised me again when she suddenly placed a thumb firmly against my butthole. (I jerked back against her a bit.)

“You do like that, don’t you?” Elizabeth smiled.

“I like it a lot,” I said, and with that, she began to firmly (with warm oil on her thumb) trace circles around the ring of my butthole while now massaging my taint (also firmly) up and down, from one end of my trail to the other.

“I promise you’ve never felt anything like you’re going to feel today,” Elizabeth said. “Go ahead and roll over onto your back for me.”

I obeyed, and my cock rose up against me and stood rock solid just above my belly button.

“Mmm,” Elizabeth said, and I was more shocked than ever when she pulled off her scrub top and pulled her black sports bra off over her head.

Her tits were medium-sized and beautiful (they were full without being large and her nipples pointed upward). I swear my cock became the hardest it’s ever been when I noticed her hard nipples stuck slightly outward, away from each other, toward her shoulders.

“Do you like?” Elizabeth asked, sticking her chest out toward me, exaggerating the size of her beautiful knockers.

“I love,” I said. “I didn’t expect this.” I blushed.

“I told you we have to go deep,” she said. “Intense edging is part of the process.”

She turned away from me and wiggled her scrub bottoms down over her big hips and ass, revealing a black lacy thong. She bent over as she pulled down her pants, and I noticed what looked to me like a big brown butthole behind the thin, lacy strap of her thong.

She climbed onto the table and straddled me, the insides of her warm, womanly thighs gripping my legs together.

She began to run one hand after the other from the bottom of my ball sack up the shaft of my cock to my belly button, and then repeated the long stroke again and again, slowly but steadily. “Things are about to get a bit more intimate,” Elizabeth said. “Just let me know if there is anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“It’s fine,” I said, when in fact it was better than fine.

She ran her warm palms slowly up from my stomach to my chest and pinched my nipples gently. She continued to pinch onto them while she spoke. “Are you ready?”

Ready was an understatement. “Ready for what?” I asked.

“Follow,” Elizabeth said. She climbed off of me, got on her hands and knees on the padded carpet, and rested her head and chest on the floor. In effect, her big bottom was sticking straight up into the air with only the thong strap (barely) hiding her little secret.

I rolled off the table and stood over her.

“Response to submission is how we break through the barrier between physical touch and emotional or psychological response,” she said.

I had no idea what any of that meant.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, shaking slightly now. Up to that point, Elizabeth had been a complete professional. Seeing her so vulnerable now drove me mad with frustration and lust.

“I wish you could fuck it like a wild man,” Elizabeth said, wagging her tail tauntingly from side to side. “But you can’t.”

I moaned.

“That’s what we’re looking for,” she said, almost with relief. “You may not touch my private parts, but please pull my thong off over my bottom. I want you to pull them all the way down and off over my knees.”

I took Elizabeth’s thong under the lacy waistband, pressing into the soft skin of her hips as I got my fingers under the fabric and proceeded to do as she had asked. I pulled them down over her womanly hips and all the way down to the floor.

“Get a good look,” Elizabeth said as I was already helping myself to the sight of her wide crack and her perfectly (half-dollar sized) brown butthole—It looked very tight, but the big brown ring of it dared me to find out. When my eyes worked their way down to her pussy, I noticed that she had an outie, which was pink (And open! And wet!).

“You’re wet!” I said.

“Of course I am,” Elizabeth said. “I love my job. I love helping backed-up men get rid of their sexual frustrations through full release.”

I noticed a thick string of precum running from the knob of my cock all the way down to the carpet. “What do you want me to do now?”

“What would you like to do now?” Elizabeth asked.

“I want to put my cock in your ass,” I said, surprising myself. My horniness was making my bold.

“Besides that,” she said.

“I’d love to mount you and ride your pussy and cum inside you.”

“Besides that,” she said.

What else was there?

“You may touch my butthole once,” she said after a moment. “Just a soft touch, no penetration. Press it like a doorbell with your thumb.”

I placed my thumb firmly on her browneye and pressed it like a doorbell, just as she had requested. I felt her butthole stick to my thumb ever-so-slightly as I removed it.

“That felt so good,” Elizabeth moaned. “I wish you could have me just like this.”

I sniffed my thumb and went nuts with lust.

“Sniff me,” Elizabeth said. “It’s natural for the male to be turned on by the scent of a highly-aroused female.”

Her words alone were proving to be more than enough for me, and this was borderline more than I could bear. I felt as if I might achieve the first hands-free orgasm of my life as I sniffed up her stinky-smelly crack.

Another moan escaped me.

“In the wild, I would be fair game,” she said. “You could do whatever you wanted, and I’d be powerless to stop you.”

“Ughh!!!” I was so frustrated!

“The more frustration you feel,” Elizabeth said, “The greater will be your release.”

“I need to fuck something bad,” I said. “Particularly that fat ass of yours.” The sexual tension had made me brash, and I slapped Elizabeth’s ass cheek. She yelped and then laughed, turning around to face me now, resting on her bottom on the floor.

“Would you like it if I sucked your cock?” She asked.

“Oh my god,” I said, staring down at her perfect tits, her nice full lips and big brown eyes. “Please,” I moaned.

“Get back on the table,” she said, standing.

I felt slighted, ripped off, but maybe she would suck me from below the table.

“Face down,” Elizabeth commanded, and I obeyed.

My cock and balls back through the hole in the table, I stared down at the carpet through the padded ring of the face hole. Elizabeth’s ass backed slowly into view—From above I stared down at the overhead view of her big ass and womanly crack that formed a nice wide V as it naturally spread for penetration below me.

She wagged it back and forth again, taunting me. “You have no idea what happens next,” she said. “As far as you know, I may suck your cock under the table, or I may just back this thing all the way up until your dangling stiffy penetrates it.”

I began to involuntarily thrust into the table and suddenly, to my surprise, the padded hole in the table clenched firmly around my cock and balls, holding me prisoner there. It didn’t hurt—It wasn’t even uncomfortable—In fact, it somehow felt intoxicatingly good.

“Have you ever used a cock ring?” Elizabeth asked, standing up from the floor and placing her warm palms again onto my back. She leaned into me, giving me her weight, as she slid her hands from my shoulders all the way down to my lower back.

“No,” I said. I’d never used a cock ring before.

“The table is acting as a cock ring on you,” Elizabeth said. “It basically just makes your erection bigger and harder.”

“I didn’t think it could get any bigger or harder,” I said.

Elizabeth’s hands left my back and I didn’t hear or feel anything for a few seconds until I heard the familiar sound of the oil bottle open.

Soon after, I felt a nice warm slippery hand grip my cock, give it a couple of nice strokes, and then release. My cock jerked and I exhaled hard. My face was hot and my cock throbbed, begging for release.

The next time I felt Elizabeth’s warm hand, it stroked my cock rapidly but so loosely that I could barely feel it. She was taunting me, toying with me. “You’re going to thank me,” Elizabeth said from below, though I could no longer see her. “Imagine this is a nice loose pussy.”

“This is torture,” I said, and Elizabeth told me that was the point.

She stroked me a while longer, sometimes loosely and sometimes she took ahold of me and jerked on me as if there were no lube at all. Each time, she instinctively let me go just as I was about to spray everywhere.

She always gave my cock a few seconds to jerk, twitch, and relax before touching me again.

Finally, I felt Elizabeth’s warm mouth close over the knob of my cock as she began to suck me off. She used her tongue to massage circles under my knob and sucked on me hard, tugging my plums gently toward the floor as I approached climax.

Then it was over. My cock was alone again—No sound, no touch—and I practically growled my frustration.

“I think you’re ready,” Elizabeth said, patting my ass with a couple of nice sharp slaps. “We’re going outside.”

The hole in the table opened, freeing me from its grasp.

Walking down the hallway toward the back door, I asked Elizabeth why we were going outside.

“The fresh air and sunshine, the greenery of the forest, the sound of the running brook will unlock your deepest reserves when paired with the little game I have planned for the both of us.”

I inhaled deeply as Elizabeth opened the back door; we stepped outside and found ourselves at the foot of a forest. The trees were green and lush, and the sun felt good and hot on my naked body. Elizabeth was still butt naked too, and I watched the sun paint her ass with light and warmth as she took a few steps forward and looked back at me over her shoulder.

“Okay,” she said. “Close your eyes and count slowly to twenty. Then, when you open your eyes, if you can catch me, you can fuck me.” She gave me a wry smile. “How does that sound?”

I was dizzy with excitement, baffled, stunned. “Good,” I stammered.

“You’re not in yet,” Elizabeth smiled. “You have to catch me first. But if I make it back to the building without you finding me, I’ll sound the horn, and you’ll have to meet me back here to try this another way.”

I had to find her and catch her—There was no other option. The fact that this was a game I could lose made it even more thrilling.

“Close your eyes,” Elizabeth said. “No peeking.”

I put my hand over my eyes and began to count slowly out-loud. I heard the patter of Elizabeth’s bare feet on the smooth rock leading into the forest, and I peeked between my fingers and watched her disappear into the trees. (Though I could feel she was trying to run her fastest, she wasn’t at all fast—Her big ass held her back—That ass jiggled and wagged as she high-tailed it for cover, away from the threat of my slobbering dong.)

I finished counting off the last ten seconds, my heart racing, and took off in a dead sprint for the forest, following my throbbing, slobbering, pointing erection. (Hopefully it would serve as an accurate compass to that whootie, that dump truck that now commanded my every thought.)

I entered the forest and found myself in a thicket. I plowed through the dense brush (guarding my penis) and getting scratches all over, but I couldn’t have cared less. I plowed through like a bulldog after sniffing up a bitch that got away.

I ran through the forest, at times stopping to look around. Finally, I heard the sound of gently trickling water, and I remembered what Elizabeth had said about the “running brook”—How that running brook had something to do with my deepest reserves. (I guess she had been right, because if I would have stopped and pumped my cock right there, I would have nutted on the forest floor in less than ten seconds (maybe five).

I found my way to the trickling water and found Elizabeth! She was bathing in the stream! She floated on her back and smiled at me from out in the middle of the crystal river. Her wet and glistening tits poked up above the water as she basked in the sublime heat of the perfect mid-day sunshine.

I waded out toward her and she began to backstroke slowly toward the other shore (at the same pace that I moved toward her). She clearly wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

I dove into the water and began to swim as fast as I could (I’ve always been a pretty good swimmer.) Elizabeth rolled over in the water onto her stomach, and I could tell she wasn’t a good swimmer at all because her big ass (at first) came up out of the water and peeked at me with that big brown eye.

She swam as fast as she could away from me, but I gained on her quickly. My erect cock, however, (my rudder) was giving resistance against the water and keeping me from gliding across with full speed. I swam harder, my hands penetrating the surface one after the other, while I kicked wildly beneath.

As I gained on her, my cock became harder below the surface and made it increasingly harder to swim; however, the cool wetness made me hornier with every stroke.

Elizabeth’s big bottom again pushed up out of the water as she dove under—Her wide crack called for me to come and get it.

I beat out the last twenty meters and grabbed hold of Elizabeth’s bare ankle just as she was climbing out, exhausted, onto the grassy shore on the other side. I climbed up behind her, wrapped my arms around her in a bear-hug as she laughed and tried to pull away—I was too strong.

I pulled her down onto the soft grass and we spooned there for a moment, basking in the warmth and the thrill of our little game. I put a hand under Elizabeth’s hip and rolled her over onto her stomach. I stood above her, took her under both hips, and pulled that dump truck whootie up into the air. I leaned down and sniffed it again, and her stink made me dizzy.

I could feel myself about to explode.

“Come on big boy,” Elizabeth purred. Her pussy glistened in the sun from the crystal water and her own slimy precum. “Ejaculate that huge load in my vagina. No pulling out!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, guiding and sliding my girth into her, enjoying every moment as I slowly slid her onto my shaft. When I was in her to my balls, I took a moment—I needed it. I basked in her warmth on my cock; I basked in the warmth of the sun on my back and my knees in the soft grass.

I looked down at Elizabeth’s bare ass and noticed she was arching her back and poking it up higher into the air than ever, submissive. She obviously wanted it as bad as I did.

Without pulling out of her slobbery pussy, I stood up behind her and mounted her; I gripped the grass with my toes, squatting down to get at her good now, and grabbed onto her hips with both hands. Like that, I began to hump Elizabeth.

“You’re so deep!” She moaned. “Get me pregnant!” She squealed, reaching back and grabbing my plums, claiming them as her own. She tugged on them in desperation as she threw her bottom back against me to the rhythm of my own short and panting thrusts.

I had only pumped her a few times (less than twenty seconds) when I felt the orgasm building and threatening to blind me with its coming intensity. “I’m going to blow,” I whined, feeling like a true animal surrounded by nature, (in a pussy!) in the throes of the most animalistic act I could imagine.

“Spill it all inside me,” Elizabeth whimpered.

And then it happened.

The climax built and built (the longest I’d ever felt a climax build without ejaculating). It continued to climb as my vision blurred, and I closed my eyes and continued to ride her out. I continued to hump wildly inside her warmth as my orgasm continued to climb.

Right at the edge, I experienced heaven on earth—In the grip and grasp of that moment, nothing existed but the feeling and the sensation of my climax and Elizabeth’s pussy grip on my pounding manhood.

The first cum blast shocked me, as I thrust into Elizabeth as deep as I could, spilling it inside her. The blast erupted from deep within, erupting from me like a geyser, spilling over, spraying long and hard ropes deep into her fertile womb.

The second blast was just as intense, erupting again, flowing from me, and even though my legs were shaking, I continued to hump her from my squatting position. Another long stream of semen erupted from deep within me. It was unlike anything I had ever seen or felt.

I didn’t count the eruptions, but I felt I hung in that weightlessness of orgasm for an eternity, pumping and pumping as one would at an underground well, reveling in each new geyser until they slowly began to shoot off in a quick succession of excited spurts that felt far superior to my everyday cum shots. (I’m confident that if Elizabeth’s pussy hadn’t been on my cock, I would have shot those spurts deep into the trees.)

When the shots finally began to cum further apart and weakened in intensity, I relaxed onto Elizabeth’s sweaty back, and felt, for the first time in my life, truly satisfied in every aspect of my existence.

I felt the cool breeze on my own sweaty back, and I recalled the fresh-air smell of childhood.

Elizabeth wagged her ass a bit, reminding me of where I was.

When I pulled out of her, my cock was painted with semen.

Elizabeth, knees together, wobbled over to a large flat rock and laid out on top of it on her back, spreading her legs.

There was a cum puddle in the grass in front of me, a cum trail in the grass leading from me to the rock, and a very large stream rolling out from between Elizabeth’s legs, forming a milky pool on the big warm rock.

“Come over here,” Elizabeth said, and I stood.

I was physically exhausted, but I was mentally, spiritually, and emotionally renewed.

“Get a load of the mess you made!” Elizabeth laughed, dizzy with excitement.

I watched the milky pool as it continued to fill (It looked like someone had dropped a jug of nut from the sperm bank), until my ejaculate finally reached the top of a deep recess in the rock and spilled down over the edge onto my feet.

“I came so hard when you started blasting,” Elizabeth blushed. “I usually have my patients ejaculate in a jar, but I couldn’t help it when I saw how bad you needed to release.”

I became hot in the face, and I looked down at my dangling dong drizzling semen onto the wet grass at my own painted feet.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1062776/the_nut_spill_m26f35_erotic_massage_edging_huge