“Okay, well, I’m sure it’s true. You’ll get it to work.”
“Well, even if it isn’t true, I guess it can’t hurt. No reason this can’t be enjoyable, right?”
“Guess not.”
She poured us both some lemonade and gave me a glass.
“It’s probably true for men too, right? Do you know? Do you ejaculate more if you’re really horny?”
Okay, that made me blush, I thought, feeling the warmth spread across my face. Even though I was getting more comfortable with this kind of conversation, I wasn’t getting that comfortable.
“Uh… I dunno… I guess so?”
“So what makes you horny? I mean, I can get more magazines and stuff… Is there anything in particular that does it for you?”
“Well, seeing you dressed like that sure helps…” I said, half in jest, hiding my face by taking a swig from my glass as soon as I realized what I’d said.
“What… like this?” she replied, smiling and touching the thin black cloth.
I was about to apologize, but I noticed that she didn’t seem offended. She kept smiling, stroking her fingers up and down the see-through fabric. I swallowed heavily, unable to take my eyes off her chest. She was clearly just teasing me now.
“Uh… yeah…”
“Well, I only wear it to bed, really… I can’t imagine what would cause a man to get excited about this little old garment…”
“Oh, come on! Don’t do this to me!”
She laughed and put her glass down. Then she struck a pose for me, curving her hip out to one side, then the other.
“Well, there’s a mental image you can take with you when you’re in the bathroom!”
“Oh, I did that already.”
“What?”
“Uh… I…. well…”
“What?!”
“So… here’s the thing. That thing you’re wearing… I thought it was so hot when I saw you that I… well, that’s what I was thinking about. When I was… filling the cup.”
“So you thought about me while you were jerking off.”
“Yes…”
“Wait… is that why you finished so fast?”
“Yes. I mean… just look at you! I mean, come on, Liz! You’re so hot, I could probably make myself cum over and over, thinking about you in that… ‘little old garment’…”
Lizzie’s eyes lit up.
“Really?”
“What?”
“Well, come on, then!” she practically shouted, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me towards the stairs. “I’ve been trying for three years. If you can give me more of your stuff, what are we standing around here for?”
She practically ran up the stairs, pulling me along after her. She only let go of my arm once we made it to the bedroom. As she walked over to a table near the king-size bed, I looked around. There was a bowl of chocolate on the dresser and the room was decked out with flowers and candles – which she proceeded to light. The window blinds were closed. Clearly, she had prepared a lovely evening in for herself.
The little plastic cup with my swimmers in it was placed on a table by the flat screen TV opposite the bed. On the same table was a basked containing a selection of items; something resembling a thin plastic tube was sticking out of it, but I couldn’t see anything more. Liz walked over to the table, picked up both the cup and the basket, then brought it all back to the bed. There, she sat down.
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