Shaking the Cum Maker

Okay, y’all. It was quiet over here yesterday. No good since today’s the first of the month. I still got half a day, so I’m sure everything will be alright. But if there’s anyone in need of some service this morning, please let me know.

Often, I think that I would have a lot crazier times if I still went on outcall dates. I mean, I accept them… With a round trip ticket, darlin. But otherwise, no. I have a reason for this.

Over the years, I’ve discovered that when a man cums, everything else just kind of goes out the window. Any promises made during or right before getting off usually were more like pre-ejaculatory high hopes. Not actual oathes of honor from a gentleman hell bent on formalities. not quite accurately what they were really representing. Some form of miscommunication seems to take place between the large and small head when they cum. 

One night, I was picked up relatively late from my hotel. The fella was quite attractive, and seemed rather wealthy. Although that’s never really mattered too much to me, it does tend to eliminate most weirdos and pervs. (The bad ones.) Overall, he seemed like a decent person. We went to his house not too far down Blue Angel Parkway. Just far enough to be too far to walk home.

The house was nice, but something seemed odd. It took me several hours to realize it wasn’t my date’s house at all. He claimed to be house-sitting, but who knows.

On top of that, after we played and he got off twice, the sun began to rise. However, that did not create any more of an eager attitude for taking me home. I ended up spending all morning awake on the couch posting CL ads listening to that gentleman snore. That won’t happen again.

Worse than that, are the ones that want to stay forever. Thank goodness I haven’t had to deal with guys like that on this website. You would be amazed at the amount of guys that come over to your house and expect to move in. (I can tell you’re laughing. I’m being serious.) You invite over a date, and suddenly you find his toothbrush next to your’s. It’s ridiculous. Really. You think they’d know better.

I really think that people like that must know in advance what they’re going to do. Maybe it’s some type of a game to see if you will get irritated enough to push them out. I’m a really a kind person, but nice… not always. Not when I need to not be.

But the best of all idiots, hands down, goes to Ft. Walton Tony. I must tell you about him. Sadly, I still remember his last name. He has never ever been replaced by anyone more ridiculous in my entire life. Probably never will.

Tony hit me up forever before finally coming over. I must admit, the first time I was forced to cancel on him. Something about him had already tripped my weird wire. He seemed so nice the first night he came over. It was the second night that he came over that killed me.

At the time my girlfriend, Zaney Janie was staying with me. She is just as her name says and crazy as a big black bag full of mixed nuts, but the most fun person to be around. Oh, and she gets down like a queen. Tony decides he doesn’t mind having two women around, so there we are.

We’re all three sitting on the bed chatting. Zaney Janie, as usual, is messing with some clothes. She has a knack for cutting them apart, then reassembling them together into amazing and uniquely sexy outfits. Rags to Riches, as you will. (I’m pretty sure she must have been cutting up pieces that day for it to even fit into Tony’s scenario, but here’s mine.

So, we’re on the bed. Tony, suddenly, gets this weird look in his eye. He starts getting off the bed, but slowly, staring at me in the eye crazily. I had just returned from the shower, so I was brushing my hair out, and not quite sure what the problem was. He literally looked to be tripping out. It was kind of irritating, to be honest with you, after he had already spent so much time there.

Tony kind of crouched down and began moving oddly towards the door. My irritation overwhelmed me, and I jump off the bed. “What the fuck are you doing? Why do you look like that?”

He was cowering before me, and when I raised my voice, he fell into the chair nearby. When I realized he was panting, I began to grow concerned and asked if Janie would go get him some water. But, when I turned back to look at him again, he was right at the door. 

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone peeking out my damn hotel room door. And Tony wasn’t completely dressed. He was only wearing shorts.

The next thing I know, the door is open, and he’s right in the gap. And I don’t know what quite made me do this. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes of fear for no good damn reason. Perhaps I was just was tired of men acting weird after they came. Perhaps I just wanted to see how fucking tough I could make someone believe I was.

So, I jumped, slammed my foot on the ground, and yelled “boo”. Would you believe he ran all the way to his vehicle, jumped in, and took off to Fort Walton Beach with his shoes and watch and shirt left behind in my room? I swear to you… These were quality items. What the fuck made him run? Good question. Right?

After having sex with us, Tony had somehow gotten it into his head that he was in some sort of danger, but instead of heading home, he decided to stick it out. (Lucky us.) During the few minutes we spent chatting after my shower, Zaney had passed me a pair of scissors. He saw the scissors, tripped out thinking we were going to kill him AFTER HAVING SEX WITH HIM, because that makes sense, so he just fucking took off. He swears the only reason he slowed at the door was because he was afraid I was going to come after him. Me? Little ole me?

Now, I know you’re shaking your head right now thinking that it’s not possible that that happened. Honey, that’s just one of the stories. I will admit though that I met Tony was just one whacked-out guy. He was perfectly normal before he came.

That’s why I keep telling you fellas, you got to get that s***


shit out. And jacking it is not enough. You have to have actual sexual orgasms to get that backed up nasty cum out of your body, and if it takes me to pitch in and swallow every single bit of it, then I’ll just do what I have to do. I’m always here to help… 


One Reply to “Shaking the Cum Maker”

  1. Hahah good story sometime it is the little things that can throw you off in a situation or different place. Not really knowing what’s gonna happen next!
    But yes you do take care of us gents taking it all in and all down!

    Liked by 1 person

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