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She Runneth Over


It's after hours in my Midas Muffler shop. I'm just sitting at my desk. I own this joint, making me the king of a very small country.

Very very small. But a king is a king.

There's a knocking on my office door. What the hell? No one can get in here, the doors are locked, God damn fucking --

My door opens, I'm opening my drawer to get my gun, but it's an old lady. "Sorry, Ma'am, you have to leave," I say, my hand still on my gun in my drawer.

"Oh my," she says. "I was going to do a wish." She sounds drunk.

"I don't do wishes. I'd be out of business if I did. You have to leave."

"But if you could have one wish, what would it be?" She gives me a come-hither smile, which really doesn't work well for drunk bag ladies.

One wish? To make more cum. I don't know what it is with my cock or balls or whatever, but I can't make very much cum. I mean, any chick that gives me a blow job or hand job just ends up laughing at me and how much cum I made. I have to make apologies for how much sperm is in my condom. I look at her. "None of your God-damn business."

"I heard your thought. I know what you wished for."

"Then you know I wished for world peace."

She starts laughing, then looks at me and laughs even harder. Then does one drunk hiccup. "I don't think so."

I start getting red with just the idea that she knew what I was thinking. I say, "You have an accent."

"I'm Greek, you moron." She takes a breath and sweeps her hand towards me, indicating me. Then she says seriously, like she's making some law, "Whenever you cum, you shall make more cum."

How the fuck did she know I was thinking that? I'm not admitting it. "Yeah, right."

She frowns for a second. "I hope I said that right." She shrugs. "Oh well, what's done is done. That's half the fun of giving wishes."

"Why are you here?"

"I saw the sign on your store. You're Midas, right?"

"I'm Denny." I add, "You moron."

"I might have made a mistake." She does that bag-lady puzzled look, like she just realized that reality and wherever her head was living are not matching up.

Now I do pull out my gun. "Time to undo that mistake. I want you out of here by the count of five."

She disappears so fast I don't even get to one. I didn't even see her go.


The Next Night

So, I put out money for a good dinner with Marybeth, and now we're at my place. She's having her period, so she's giving me a handjob. The thing is, I like handjobs. I like her fingers on me. I like being able to just relax and enjoy myself.

And, as things happen, I orgasm and cum. Marybeth has had sex with me, so maybe she noticed I don't make much cum. Or maybe she didn't. But this is the first time for her to actually see how little I cum.

I wait for the obligatory laughter, but I hear nothing. I open my eyes and look at her, but she's acting like nothing's wrong. She already knew, I guess.

I look at the mess I made. There's more cum than usual. I still don't have a lot. But it's a reasonable amount. Huh? First time that ever happened.


A Few Nights Later

We're eating out, and she's looking at me over candlelight. "What's your superpower?"

Janey is almost my age and a little chunky. But I'm a little chunky too, and she was pushing on me, so I asked her out. Anyway, I got no big stake in this game. What the hell, why not tell her?

"I don't have a lot of, ah, sperm." I add, "When I, you know."

She laughs, a pretty laugh. I'll give her that. "That's a superpower?"

"Well, some women like to, uh, give, uh . . . "

She helps me out. "Blowjobs?" She adds. "Just guessing."

I nod. "Yeah those. "And some women like to, you know . . . " I make a swallowing movement.

She smiles at me. "I'm not sure any of us look foward to . . ." She swallows. "But it's the logical ending." She shakes her head. The world is what it is. I guess it would look bad if a woman suddenly spit me out.

I ask, "What's your superpower?"

And we talk. And she was still hitting up on me, so we ended up back at my house, and she's giving me a blow job. Testing my superpower? She seems a little desperate, but she's smart. And I like blow jobs. I mean, I would have liked fucking her too, but this is nice.

And, to be honest, it's a good blow job. Janey has been around the block. And I cum. And it feels nice. And she swallows everything I can produce, which isn't very much.

And when were done, she says, "I thought you didn't produce much cum."

"I don't."

"That was a normal amount."

She looks like she would know. "It wasn't. Trust me."

She looks at me. "It was. Trust me."

Strange. What did that Greek lady say?


Two Nights Later

Gina is a friend from way back. We do constant testing for STDs and she likes unprotected sex. Who am I to complain?

So we had sex, and then we cuddled, and now were standing and getting dressed, and I look down on my bed, and . . . there's a wet spot.

Why would there be a wet spot on my bed? Right where her vagina was? I almost want to rub my finger over it and smell it, but that's crossing into Crazy-Land and Gina would see. And then I wonder, "Did you leak on my bed?"

She looks at it. "Don't blame me, lover boy. That's your sperm making the mess on your bed."

No one ever dripped on me before. Or on my bed. Or I think anywhere. I didn't even know dripping was a thing. But Gina acts like it's normal.


A Week Later

I'm with Janey again, and she's no prize for looks, but I like her, and she gives great blow jobs and doesn't seem to mind. I go down on her first, drive her to an orgasm, and then she's kneeling in front of me while I sit on the edge of the bed.

And I love her tongue, and her hands, and her mouth, and she's a great blowjobber. And I have one of my best orgasms ever.

Suddenly she starts to cough, and she pulls her mouth away from my cock, and coughs again. Then she tries to clear her throat, then she swallows once, then once again. "That was a lot of cum, big guy."

"All for you. I was really excited."

"I just wasn't expecting it."

A lot of cum! My head is swelling. I made a lot of cum. Janey must have really excited me.


A Couple Days Later

Stephanie's a little thin, but she's got a nice face. And she's younger than me. I must have asked her out on a slow night, because she agreed, but this is unlikely to become a regular thing. But I'll take it. And like two grown adults, one who paid for the other one's dinner and drinks, we end up at my house. In my bed.

"Can you cum on my chest?"

"Your chest?" I'm surprised. I think she means her breasts, that's where she's indicating.

"Yes, my chest."

"Is that your kink?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "No, I'm doing it for my Girl Scout Merit Badge."

We are NOT a good match. She's a girl who wants cum on her breasts. I'm not sure exactly what the kink is, but I bet she wants a lot. And I'm the guy who never has a lot to give. This is not going to work. She's not going to laugh, she's going to be disappointed. Or maybe angry that I wasted her time, though she did get a free dinner out of it.

So I want to say no, let's do something else. But she's good looking and has most of the cards in this poker game. I don't think I can say no.

"So," I say, "there are different ways we can do this."

She informs me, in no uncertain terms, "I lay down on the bed. You put one knee on each side of me, then masturbate until you cum. Point at my chest."

"Okay," I say. She is beautful. She lays down on the bed, I straddle her, and I start jerking off. If I wanted to jerk myself off, there were cheaper ways to do it. But she does have that beautiful face and hair.

"And call me a slut."

"Hokaaay. And whore?"

She quickly rubs her clit and stops. "That would be great."

So I'm calling in her names, and jerking off, and looking at her face, and I have the thought that she's going to be really disappointed with me, but then I start losing my erection. So I try not to think about that, and biology does it's thing, and I start to orgasm.

So I point at her chest, and jerk once more, and it feels really good, and a HUGE clump of cum shoots out of me and all over her chest.

I'm amazed. I never saw this much cum in my whole life.

And then my cock wants more, so I give it two more strokes, and even more sperm comes out of me. Not shooting out this time, but I hold it and let it ooze on her chest and breasts.

And the cum is already starting to roll off her chest and onto my bed, there's so much. She takes her hands and starts rubbing my cum all over her breasts. I watch, fascinated. Then -- I swear to God this is true -- she has an orgasm without ever touching herself down there. But she's thrusting her hips and screaming and writhing and her face is all twisted up into a grimace.

And then she slows down, then stops. She finally looks at the mess I -- we -- made. It's all over. She smiles at me. "You are god."

Damn! I'm a god.

And she won't stop holding me and clinging to me, and she wants to spend the night, so I let her. She sleeps right next to me and goes to sleep with the biggest smile. And the next morning she fixes me breakfast and I get more of the clinging and holding and not letting go.


A Few Days Later

"Boss, call on Line 3."

"Angry customer?" It usually is.

"Some chick. She asked for Denny."

I pick up my phone. "Hello?"

"Hello. Um, is this Denny?"

Spam? "Yeah?" I say suspiciously.

"I'm Rantel. I know you don't know me, but . . ."

I wait.

"My friend Stephnie told me to call you."

"Stephanie?"

"Thin white girl, really pretty, she said she had, um, a good time with you. A few days ago."

"Are you calling to give me a good rating? Is this the sex version of Yelp?"

"No. Look, this is really hard for me to say, but she said I should give you a blow job."

I'm stunned. "You know Stephanie?"

We're friends from SA. This is --"

I interrupt. "SA?"

"Sexaholics Anonymous. So, like, I can come over wherever you want, or meet you where you want. Free blow job."

I don't know what to say.

She waits, then says, "Okay, this was a stupid thing to do. Thanks for listening, and thanks for you time, and --"

"Sure."

"Oh! Great. Um, thanks."

"So, my house, 9 pm? I just have to be there?"

"Yes. I'm black, is that a problem?"

"Nope."


I changed it to dinner. Rantel is painfully shy, so it's a quiet dinner. She's pretty and dressed nice, so it's still a pleasant dinner. And it's strange that I get to hold the cards for a nice looking chick who wants to give me a blow job. I've never had a female so attentive to my needs. She's young, and friends with Stephanie, and I can read people well enough to know she's on the legit.

And kind of boring, to be honest, except for that Sexaholics twist.


So, she doesn't take her clothes off. And she isn't interested in any foreplay. As soon as we get to my house she's looking for the bedroom, and as soon as we're in there, she starts pulling off my pants. When I sit down on my bed, she kneels in front of me and starts giving me a blow job.

She makes Janey look like a newbie. She has a strong tongue, and does things I can't even describe. And then she deep throats me, which I knew was possible, but it takes a lot of practice and determination. So I'm getting an Olympic-quality blowjob.

Then when I'm close, she shifts to the normal hand on my base and her mouth over my cock. And I cum, and I can see the smile on her face and her starting to swallow.

But I'm still cumming, and she starts to choke, then she tries to breath, but she's still got her mouth over my cock and I'm still somehow shooting jism into her mouth.

And now she's seriously choking and I don't think she can breath, and I realize she could fucking die on me. So I do a quick Heimlich on her, hoping that works. A gob of semen comes out of her mouth and she gasps air. I start breathing more calmly. She's still sucking down air, but she'll be okay.

She's smiling. She almost died and she's smiling. Girls with kinks, you gotta love 'em. She starts getting dressed, and as I watch her, she says "That was everything Stephanie promised. Maybe even better. Call me any time, day or night. I can usually be here in 15 minutes."

I offer, "Sorry about the choking." And almost dying.

"I didn't know a man could produce that much cum. I'll be ready next time."


A bag lady, I thought. Greek she said. I try to remember what she said. That I would have more sperm when I came.

Or, maybe the bag lady said I would have more sperm every time I came. Could that mean I'll just keep having more and more?


A Month Later

Janey and I had normal intercourse. I was wearing the biggest condom I could buy, but it overflowed and some leaked out. She saw the leak when I pulled out -- she looked horrified -- so there was no covering up the Great Sperm Escape. So now we're going to do the pregnancy worry for a couple weeks.

So I basically can't use a condom any more, they don't make them big enough for my sperm.

My cum isn't increasing now, thank God. If I don't have sex 4 times a day, my balls hurt. They do anyway. I have to eat all the time and I don't gain any weight. I crave protein.

I now have a side-job making porn films -- I'm known as Ton-of-Cum. Girls come from all over the nation to have sex with me. They all, one way or another, have a huge fantasy about cum. I fill up their mouths with cum, I spray enough cum over their body for them to take a shower. Into their hair, their eyes, their face, their cunt, their clothes. One girl jacked me off into a glass and then drank it.

So I'm a prisoner to my balls, but it has more sex and girls than I would get in heaven. How do I complain to my friends, when I can have sex with as many new girls as I want every day?