Fateful Plateful

I had thought guys got off by watching people have sex. Even with the Bukkake stuff, regardless of its debasement of women, there was something exciting and even interesting watching the pretty faces react to the cocks and their ejaculations. What seemed a little strange to me was that the movies in the Gokkun directory often didn't even show guys coming when the girl drank the stuff. She was just alone or with other girls drinking the semen of many men from a large glass, bowl, or plate loaded with loads of semen. How did this excite guys?

On the other hand, I asked myself, why was it exciting to me to watch it? I'd never even tasted it, but, as I said, there was something sexy about the girls drinking it. It was especially sexy when a girl appeared to be really enjoying it.

Anyway, just two days after my first OK but not so wonderful orgasm from fucking, there was a serendipitous day that began my on-again-off-again relationship to pornography and my preposterous journey down the road to what some might perceive as degradation. Who would have thought that the onset of a heavy snowfall (usually considered somehow virginal) would betoken my rapid descent in less than a month from virgin to harlot, from Sandra Dee to Hester Prynne?

It began not quite innocently with a relaxed dalliance with The Twins. Identical twins Lyle and London Masters moved into the house behind ours when Lucia and I were in fourth grade. Unlike many monozygotic twins who rebel against the "cuteness" imposed by their parent's subsuming each one's personality into the other's, the Masters twins were best friends and even enjoyed pulling the occasional, good-natured pranks on those who didn't realize that they were a set. They were like a real life Fred and George Weasley from the Harry Potter series.

Anyway, Lucia, the twins, and I became good friends growing up. In fact, Lucy, Lyle, Lon, and I were almost inseparable for several years there. Then, in the course of a year or so, puberty began affecting all of us to some degree. Lucia and I sort of went off in one direction while Lyle and London got into a different clique at school. We remained friends, but at a distance.

So, it was on a Thursday after school. I was home, but I had to run an errand. My mom was at work and the whole Docker family (Lucy, Gil, and their parents) had left town to attend a funeral. It was late afternoon and had begun to snow earlier in the day. By the time I needed to make my run to the store, our driveway was snowed in and I was panicking. I called The Twins who fortunately were home. Even though we hadn't hung out in some time, they came over with their snow shovels and the three of us cleared enough snow from the driveway for me to get out.

"Thanks, guys. I owe you," I said to them as I got into my car.

"Hey, Cara, it looks like it might be a snow day tomorrow. D'you have any plans?" Lyle said.

"That would be really nice having the day off tomorrow, an unexpected three-day weekend." I told them. "Let's see how bad the snow is tomorrow morning. If I can get my schoolwork done tonight, then I can have the day to play tomorrow."

While I was out, my mom called me on my cell informing me that the traffic was terrible. She told me to expect her later than usual and not to wait for her for dinner. I told her not to worry and that all was well at home. I was worried about her, but I knew she'd get home safely. And, there wasn't anything I could do for her at the time anyway. She took mass transit for her commute and I was hoping she was going to get home at a reasonable hour.

After a productive block of non-stop effort, by 9:30 I had finished my schoolwork for the next day and even for the following Monday. That felt really good. I was free to play, shop (at least online), watch movies, and read all weekend. Sitting down to watch some television, all I could find in the local channels was about the snowstorm and how it was affecting the roads: A half-hour or so of repetitive coverage of snow fall amounts, snow plows, and reporters trying unsuccessfully to find something new to say. Finally, my mym managed to make it home. She told me it was a really bad commute, but that she had seen lots of crews out on the roads deployed to try to stay up with the snow.

Nevertheless, in the morning I was overjoyed to learn that school was cancelled for the day. The unplanned, but delightful, three-day weekend had come to pass. Regardless, my mom decided to go in to work.

After she left at 6:45 AM, I planned to have a full day of catching up my movie watching on Netflix.

By 9:45 I was bored beyond belief. Then the phone rang.

"Hi, Cara. What do you want to do?" London asked me.

"I don't know. What d'ya think?"

"Well, Lyle and I had a Mimosa with our breakfast. Would you like to come over and have one? I'll make you a spinach omelet, bacon, pancakes, uh..."

In the background I could hear Lyle agreeing with him with such glee that I would have known they'd been drinking even if he hadn't told me. "They're great omelets. You gotta have one," I heard him shout.

"Lon, did you have just one Mimosa with breakfast?"

"Well, to tell the truth, we each had one with our first breakfast, one or maybe two with our second breakfast, and another with our third breakfast."

"What are you, Hobbits?"

"What're Hobbits?" he asked me, his voice very slurred.

"Never mind. A Mimosa sounds like a great plan. I'll see you in a few minutes. I just need to get bundled up."

"You're going to walk forty or fifty feet. It'll take you ten seconds to get here. What's the point in getting so bundled up?" He paused, belched, and then added, "We have a fire going."

"OK. OK. I'll be right over," I said. I quickly took off my robe and flannel PJs, threw on a t-shirt and some sweats, glad that I'd showered (and shaved myself) the night before. Part of me thought it wasn't cool drinking on a snow day, but with my schoolwork done and the snow still falling, the idea of a Mimosa, an omelet, and some black coffee did sound good. Plus, it had been a long time since I'd hung out with The Twins. With Lucy gone for the week, it would be nice to spend time with them.

* * * * *

When I got there, though, all I really wanted was a mug of good, hot coffee and to sit by the fire. Yet, the aroma of butter, eggs, some exotic spices, and onions cooking, the smell of coffee, the crackling fire, all contributed to a sudden yen for food.

The icing on the cake was, upon opening the door, the twins offering me a huge flute of Mimosa. The fresh fruit smell (They added fresh squeezed lime to the fresh squeezed OJ.) was irresistible. By the time I took off my boots and made it to the fireplace in the family room, Lyle was pouring my third Mimosa.

Boy, those things go down so smoothly. You simply don't realize how much you're drinking and how much alcohol is coursing through your system.

As the fire was warming me I realized that whatever tension the outside chill had caused had evaporated. In addition I was feeling happy and becoming looser emotionally. This, I thought to myself, was me trying to say that I was pretty well blitzed, without exactly admitting it. I also began to examine the twins as they worked effortlessly as a team -- the way you'd expect from friendly brothers -- in the non-stop preparation of food and drink.

I'd forgotten how they'd grown up. They were both about six feet tall with muscular physiques. I recalled that they'd both done well in one or two sports, but didn't remember which. Regardless, the images hitting my brain of the two of them walking around in t-shirts and boxers made me reevaluate my historically chaste perceptions. They were now attractive and hot, real hot.

I realized that this sudden change in my interest was being caused by my recent virginity loss, that is, my membership in the LOV Club. Emotionally, no longer being a virgin was now freeing me to think salacious thoughts about guys and their heretofore personally and biblically unknown parts. Of course, the introduction to and ensuing self-immersion in pornography added to these naughty thoughts.

My mind was flooded with the images of sexy young women surrounded by cocks, hard cocks, lots of them, all with one goal. Every one of them wanted to spew its warm, creamy liquid into or on one of those hot babes. At that exact moment, my mind awash in alcohol, I wanted to be one of those babes. I asked myself if I could possibly do that today with two guys I had known for ten years. And, if I said yes to the question of whether or not I could, the next question was "Would I?"

As I pondered the possibilities another, important thought popped into my head. Duh! I remembered that I'd never tasted semen. I suddenly had a strong desire to rectify that situation. Not only did I want to watch it spurt out of a cock. I wanted to taste it, to drink it. I didn't want just one boy's ejaculate; I wanted five of them, a dozen, a whole glassful.

The moment I started to think about doing it with never having even tasted it, I began to think about the images from the porn I'd watched. There were girls with so much semen in their mouths that it was literally spilling out. Others were licking it off saucers, tabletops, a guy's abs, and drinking it from wineglasses or even larger vessels. I briefly remembered learning that the average amount of ejaculate is just barely a teaspoon, but immediately dismissed it, mainly because it was all just fantasy at the moment.

But, I cautioned myself, some of the girls didn't look like they were enjoying it too much. Some gagged. Some even looked like they were going to throw up. Even the ones who seemed to be truly enjoying it (and many appeared to be faking the enjoyment), gagged sometimes.

So, I asked myself, could I handle it? What if I hated the taste? What if I gagged or threw up? Many of my girlfriends told stories about how gross the stuff was. In fact, although a few said that it wasn't bad, most of them said it was just something you had to swallow quickly so you didn't taste it much. No one said that she enjoyed the taste.

Considering all the potential for pleasure and yuckiness, sexual satisfaction and sexual disappointment, facility and ineptitude, I was making myself crazy. My inner voices were screaming at me with so many different opinions of what to do, I couldn't move, couldn't make a decision.

Fortunately, the Masters twins made the decision for me. It began when kitchen and fireplace sounds were interrupted when Lyle, out of the blue, said, "Did you know that Gil Docker has a whole lot of porn on his own server?"

Without even thinking about it I said, "Yeah. Lucia and I have been watching a ton of it. I think I've been more obsessed with it than she, though. I thought I wanted to see hunky guys in passionate love-making with beautiful women in sensual settings and luxurious silk and lace." I paused to take a breath. Perhaps I had said too much. Nevertheless, I managed to put my other foot in my mouth. "But it turns out I just love watching cocks spurt. It's so hot!"

There it was. Now I couldn't believe I'd said that out loud. I briefly wished I hadn't but then I realized that just saying it had made me so excited that I felt like the slightest breeze at that moment would make me climax. I suddenly didn't care what I'd said. In fact, what happened next was exactly the best thing.

The twins glanced at each other and then they both, as if they had choreographed it, adjusted themselves in their boxers. Although I was new to actual sex with a guy, it was clear to anyone with eyes open in the room that they both had hard-ons.

"Well, uh, have you ever actually watched one spurt? I mean, you know, just watched one up close, 'cause, um, I'd be glad to show you." Lyle said this, but it was obvious London would have given me the same offer if only he'd finished adjusting himself sooner.

I contemplated if this was something in which I shouldn't be involved, like maybe I was pushing some morality boundary beyond acceptable norms. I knew I couldn't undo it if we started. On the other hand, I'd been watching cocks spew semen onto willing, thrilled faces (as well as some not so thrilled) for weeks. I knew I couldn't play around like this with Bull. He was too, too... I couldn't find the right word, but I just knew I couldn't.

So I considered asking the twins if their dicks could come out and play with me. It was probably the unwise thing. But, then I thought, "What the hell? Why not?" I'd known the twins for 10 years and trusted them to be respectful and more importantly to keep it in the family, as it were.

So, why not, indeed! It was at that moment that I realized I could smell myself, the uniquely female aroma of my saturated crotch. My pussy was so wet with my juices, not only could I smell myself, but I was sure the guys could hear my squishing as I moved.

"So, d'you mean that you'd be willing to show a gal how you jerk off, right here in your family room?"

"Well, Cara, you're not just any gal," London responded. "We've known each other since fourth grade. We'd be discrete. This would just be between us."

Interjecting, as he was wont to, Lyle said, "He means 'among' us. 'Between' is supposed to be used just for two things, not more."

"Yeah," I said smiling at both of them, "well, I only see the outlines of two 'things' here so maybe London was being vigilant in his diction."

The two of them smiled, realizing that this was going to happen. But I'm glad that we were still rather drunk. I wasn't 100 percent clear on exactly what was going to happen. I was clear, however, on what I wanted: I wanted to see their cocks shoot and to learn about how guys did that.

Jeez, I was so turned on. I said, "And speaking of 'dic-tion,' come on, boys, let's have a look."

It was then, as the two of them dropped their boxers and stepped out of them, that I realized that I could ask them to let me taste their cum. In 20/20 hindsight that seems so naïve, but there I was, having just lost my virginity two weeks ago, so that's exactly what I was: naïve.

"Hey, why don't you show us your tits?" London asked.

"Yeah, that would help get me off," Lyle added.

I was not thrilled with this idea. Both Allen and Bull had said they liked my boobs, but no other guy had ever seen them. Even compared to the girls in the porn I'd watched and regardless of the mixed feelings I'd discussed with Lucia, I was pretty happy with my breasts. They had grown a bit in the last year as I'd told her and now I did like the way they looked. On my thin frame, they sometimes looked too big, but I wouldn't have wanted them smaller or larger.

However, I was still somewhat self-conscious about them. I think I was just as self-conscious about my pussy. Maybe it was just a girl thing. You're not supposed to show any of your body outside of a swimsuit.

"You guys don't look like you need any help at all," I replied.

All this talk about bodies and what should be shown or not was soon forgotten, because as soon as they were naked from the waist down, I saw their outwardly pointing cocks and I had a small, surprising orgasm -- just from seeing their two cocks in the daylight diminished by the snow, but enhanced by the fire. They were pink, red, hard, and glistening at the tips. I wanted so much to touch myself, but I realized it would distract me from the task at hand. I also wanted to stay focused on learning about cocks and cum in the first person, not as an observer, but as a participant.

No, before touching myself, I wanted to touch and feel them. Yet, as I moved to sit on their low, sturdy coffee table and used my hands to motion them to come closer, I was struck by the reality that I'd never done this before. All of my many sexual encounters (all six of them) were quickly grabbed in a movie theater and a car -- except for the times when Bull and I had done it in his bedroom of course, but even that was over pretty quickly. So, I'd never had the autodidactic opportunity to carefully and explore the male anatomy.

I wanted to savor this, to have it be a true learning experience. I knew it was going to be orgasmic. It already was to some degree, so there was no doubt about that.

Watching the two of them walk over to me, their cocks sticking straight at me, bouncing a little as they moved, was a beautiful thing. Their stiff rods bobbing and rocking as they walked looked so silly really, but so sexy at the same time. It seemed like they were different people than the two guys with whom I'd grown up. Now they were sexual creatures.

Another thing I couldn't help but notice: Although they may have seemed identical, there was one important part of them that made them each unique, a way, possibly in a tight spot, to tell them apart. I won't say which one was which. One was longer than the other, not by much, but it was noticeable. On the other hand, the shorter one had more girth, also noticeable. Anyway, there it was. One was fatter and shorter. The other was longer and thinner. I guess their genes had understood the issues and compensated.

Looking at both of them was exciting for me, regardless.

Fortunately, they were playing right into my hands. Of course, I hadn't really made this plan, but it was a good one. I can't really take credit for it. It was just dumb luck that I was here on this snow day with two of my friends who were now nearly naked and pointing at me with their lovely, hard cocks.

As they approached me I glanced out the window and watched the snow still falling. The big flakes blowing around made the Masters' backyard look like a snow globe. It gave me a brief chill and to compensate my eyes went to the still-roaring fire. I had become cold and then I warmed myself by just glancing outside and then to the fireplace. How strange that I could alter my senses just by visual stimulation. Hmm.

Now it was time to get to know some more about hard dicks. I wanted to learn as much about them as I could while I had this opportunity. Although I hadn't thought about it too much, I realized that I wanted to be really good at sex. And, as a naïf, it was incumbent upon me to learn how to be good at it. Whenever I found Mr. Right I wanted to make him happy. Hence my view on this educational opportunity.

"Wow, look at those things," I exclaimed. I was directly in front of the fireplace and the two of them were just a few inches from my face, about 45 degrees on either side of me. I was surprised at how red they were. I could see what I assumed was pre-cum dripping from the slits in both of them.

"Can I lick it?" I asked as I looked up at Lyle who had reached down to touch himself.

Lyle glanced at London, his eyes wide in surprise. "Yeah, sure, um, that would be cool."

So I reached out to touch his hard cock. But, as I closed my hand around his shaft several things happened very quickly.

First, Lyle said three different things in a row: A painful "Ow!" was the first. Then he muttered a surprised "Uh, uh, uh." This was followed by a resigned "Oh, fuck," said with a long, long central "uh" sound.

Unfortunately, well, sort of unfortunately, I never got the chance to lick his pre-cum, because concurrent with the elongated "Oh, fuck," Lyle began to ejaculate. With my hand still grasping his hard dick, his spurts went everywhere. Globs landed on my nose, my lips, my chin, my neck, my shoulder, and one landed directly in my eye. Splat.

One of the many things that surprised me was the killer orgasm that I had -- apparently from just watching his cock spurt that white liquid. I'd had one short, but stunning climax with no hint that it was coming. But Lyle's ejaculation was so beautiful. It looked just like the ones in the porn videos, but it was right in front of me. I could see it happen. Hell, I could smell it. It smelled wonderful. Not at all like I'd expected. When I saw it in the porn I watched, it looked like sweet vanilla sauce or maybe white chocolate icing.