A Car Ride to Joey’s
“So... how do you feel, Ryan. Refreshed?”
Becky drives. It’s late Saturday morning. Back to Joey’s to pick up my car.
“I’m okay,” reticent to speak after such a decadent night and morning. I’m rattled yet indeed physically quiescent.
“You performed nicely for me. I think the ruined orgasms prime your system... your ejaculatory muscles. Sort of a warm up for a nice big explosion.”
She speaks so analytically, as if critiquing an athletic performance.
“I’ve missed having a man spurt for me. As I said, Jackie only gets milked. Never to feel the full joy of an eruption. Such would instill a masculine pride... which is to always be denied him. You know... the manual.”
Yes, from the Bulgarian institute. I nod.
“You splattered quite strongly,” Becky earnestly continuin
