“Go on.”
“No. You’re an innocent woman and it’s not fit for you to hear.”
“You can tell me, Reverend Peters. I won’t judge you. Before you begin, may I have a drink?”
Before I could respond, Elenora took the stem of the martini glass and tilted it back, pouring the entire amount of my semen down her throat in one swallow. She tilted it back higher to get the remaining drops of the viscous cream from the bottom of the glass. Relishing the taste, she let the remnants mix with her saliva and pool in her mouth. She guided her tongue around the inner sloped rim of the glass, licking the bottom and lapping the sides to leave no trace behind, like a cat finishing a bowl of cream. Her craving satiated, she set the empty glass back down on the table.
“That was… tasty. Like a milkshake,” she sai
