No one could have reasonably guessed the truth about CD’s obsessive sex life. To any casual observer’or even a curious one, for that matter’he appeared to
be a perfectly normal man. He was a junior partner at his firm, with a solid future financial in front of
him. Though he didn’t attend regularly, he was a member of the First Methodist
Church, a familiar face at coffee hours and social events. Though divorced for five years, he remained friends with his former wife and
was a loving father to his three children, sharing them on alternative
weekends and summer vacations. He had not been fortunate enough to find a new
lover, though he dated frequently. He had a small circle of men friends and
spent time with them watching sports on TV or going to local Penn State
football and basketball games. He logged long hours at the office and his work closing contracts with clients
involved a certain amount of pressure. CD learned to use sex to relieve that tension. He was an inveterate
masturbator. No matter how late he arrived home from the office, he went
through an almost invariable routine of pleasure that washed away all the
cares and concerns of business. As he came home each day, he drew the curtains, removed his coat and tie,
poured himself a glass of white wine. He then went into the little home
theater he’d built into a corner of the “family” area off the kitchen. He unbuttoned his shirt, slipped off his shoes, and selected a video from his
enormous collection of xxx movies. He inserted it into his tape deck, and lay
down on the couch, sighing an exhale of relaxation and anticipation. He then
unzipped his pants and fondled his emerging erection as he watched the sexual
fantasies of the evening. He had a particular attraction to Asian women so many of his videos consisted
of montages of Chinese and Japanese lesbians engaged in sex. He had dozens of
the tapes so he never became bored, even though he’d watched them dozens of
times. As soon as he saw the first lesbian kiss, the first long tongue reach
out to penetrate an open vagina, he inhaled quickly and deeply as he petted
his penis up to its full size glory. He stroked it slowly as he marveled at the Asian women feeling each other’s
bodies and watched them satisfy themselves with long, black dildos. He jerked
it fast for a minute or so and then released it. He then traced his finger
around the mushroom head of his cock and down his shaft to caress the hair on
his testicles. Then he resumed the heavy jerking until he could stand it no
longer. He fell to his knees and watched creamy spurts of sperm erupt from
his shooting shaft. Coming fascinated CD. From all he could tell from reading all the sex
literature he could find, he was almost positive he ejaculated in much greater
volumes than most men. His suspicions would be confirmed soon enough. After a year of masturbating once in the morning before going to the office
and once or twice again after returning home, he was no longer satisfied. He
needed to masturbate more, to savor the sight of his hard prick bringing forth
great gushes of jism. Watching it explode was the most satisfying and
rewarding experience of his life. His hunger for it was nearly insatiable. He began driving home for lunch to masturbate. On about the third day of this
heightened activity while jerking to an Oriental video an inspiration came to
him, presumably because he was also thinking about having his mid day meal. He decided to mix his sperm with tuna fish and mix it with mayonnaise to make
himself a sandwich. He took his hands off his cock only long enough to get
some bread, open a can of tuna and get some mayonnaise from the refrigerator.
He was becoming extremely excited as he sniffed the female fragrance of the
fish as he stirred it into the mayo. He began jacking frantically. Even though a xxx video of a three Japanese women giving each other sixty-
nines was playing on his tape deck, the idea of adding his sperm to a sandwich
spread enraptured him. He came quickly into the bowl with more intensity than
normal. His spurts were longer and stronger. Instead of his normal six
gushes, his cock pumped eight times into the bowl. When he had finished cumming, he breathed a sigh of satisfaction and wiped the
head of his cock with a kitchen towel. He pulled up his pants and put his
fingertips into the bowl, incorporating the hot sperm into the sandwich
spread. He lifted a handful to his face, inhaling its perfume. And then he tasted it. CD enjoyed that mouthful as much as a master chef savors a perfectly made
souffle. “Ahhh, oh, God, that’s good!” he said aloud. “More, I want more.” Hungrily, he scooped more of the tuna mixture from the bowl and ate it from
his palm. “Mmm, oh, yes! Yes!” He spread what remained on a slice of bread and chewed it slowly, moving it
around in his inner cheeks. His taste buds tingled for more. This new experience had given CD another erection. “So soon?” he asked his
cock. “You usually take at least five minutes to get hard for me again. You
must be enjoying this sandwich a lot, big guy.” Quickly, he dropped his pants and began jerking his tool again. As he stroked
with one hand, he opened a cupboard with the other and brought out a small
Tupperware container. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he massaged his prick. In far fewer strokes
than normal, his cock twitched in his closed fist, erupting into the bowl. It
pumped out nine precious ejaculations before its paroxysms quieted. He touched it lovingly. “Oh, baby, you feel so good,” he whispered to his
cock. “And look what you’ve given me! More to eat!” He ate a spoonful. “Ah, delicious!” he crooned. He carefully covered the rest of the gelatinous stuff, first with plastic
wrap, then with the container lid, and put it in the refrigerator. After work that day he returned to his videos for inspiration. But instead of
wasting his beloved seed on the carpet, he added it to his spunk cache in the
Tupperware container. He was strongly tempted to eat some with his dinner of
pork roast, rice and garlic potatoes but decided to save it. He envisioned building up a supply for special occasions. He began making
daily deposits to the container. A few days later, he noticed a bottle of moisturizing lotion in the medicine
cabinet while he was shaving. He hadn’t used it since the previous winter but
he wondered what it would happen if he mixed some of his cum with the
moisturizing cream and applied it to his face. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt the blood gates in his loins
open and start to fill the vessels in his cock. “No time for fun this morning, honey,” he explained to the reflection of his
penis in the mirror. “You’ll have to wait until I get home from work
tonight.” That evening he masturbated as usual and again deposited his gism into the
refrigerated container. It now contained approximately fifteen fluid ounces. He mixed about a third of it into a bowl with an equal amount of moisturizing
cream and whipped them together with a tiny kitchen whisk. Then he put some on his hands and massaged it into his face. It felt heavenly
to CD. His skin tingled. The odor of the aged, ice-cold sperm combined with
the sweet smelling moisturizer and swooned him with joy. The texture was
creamy smooth. It made his face shine with delight. “Oh! Oh! This is fabulous, just fabulous,” he giggled. The next morning he decided to wear some of his homemade nostrum to the
office. He applied a little of it on his cheeks with loving circular motions
of his finger tips. He looked at his face in the mirror and beamed with
delight. He also put just a touch of it behind each ear. “Voila!” he
exhorted. On his commute to work, CD was sexually stimulated by his new face cream. He
had a tremendous hardon when he pulled into the Chevron station for gas. He
went into the men’s room and latched himself inside a stall and masturbated
with glee. Not wanting to waste his prized emission, he caught the cum in his
palm and raised it to his open mouth, drinking it in, swallowing it slowly,
enjoying the feeling of it sliding down his throat. At about 10:30 AM that morning, Linda Tasca, his assistant, delivered some
contracts to his desk for his signature. She sat them in front of him and
sniffed the air. “Are you wearing a new aftershave, CD?” “Oh, I think it must be the new moisturizing cream I’m using. My skin has
dried up all of a sudden so I put some of it on this morning. I didn’t notice
it had any particular odor.” “It has a really nice smell, CD. Really nice.” As Linda was leaving his office, she glanced back over her shoulder to flash
him a flirtatious smile. As she went out the door, she moved her rear end
provocatively. Linda was a professional, a very proper young woman. In her
five years of employment with CD, she had never once shown the slightest sign
of physical attraction to him. At noon, he passed by her on his way home to masturbate. She wiggled a finger
at him, motioning him toward her. She leaned close and whispered, “May I see
you tonight after work? At my apartment? I know it’s a sudden impulse, but I
was just wondering if we could,’ah, y’know a get together for a drink.” CD was almost speechless for a second, then quietly answered, “Why, yes,
Linda, what a pleasant idea. Yes, after work then.” At home he deposited some more shots of cum into his container before making
his lunch. Then he completely disrobed and put more of the moisturizer cum
cream on his body. He rubbed it along his neck, under his arms, down his
stomach and around his testicles and shaft. When he returned to the office Linda slipped him a map and said to be at her
apartment by six o’clock. She was completely naked when she answered his knock at the door. She pulled
him in and stepped back to display her body for him. “Do you like it? Do you
want it?” “Linda, I’., yes, oh, yes.” She undressed him as he kissed her lips, face and breasts. “CD I don’t know what’s come over me. But I just have this sudden urge to
make love to you.” She embraced him, hugging his body, kissing his ears,
thrusting her pelvis up against him. His erect penis was squeezed between
their torsos. “Linda, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured and then closed his mouth around the
erect tongue she offered him. “I don’t know what it is, but when I saw you this morning, something just
swept over me. Oh, CD, come here.” She ushered him to her bedroom and leaped on the bed. She raised her legs and
held her heels high above her shoulders, spreading her pussy wide for him. It
glistened with precum. The sex they had that evening ranked with the finest CD could remember. After
they fucked, Linda licked his body over and over again. She was not only
gorgeous, she seemed to be totally fixated on him. As he drove toward home he remembered what she’d said about not understanding
what had come over her. CD knew. It was the scent from his new cum moisturizing potion. He had
noticed just the slightest musky perfume from it as he rubbed it on his body
that day. Apparently it was a strong aphrodisiac to Linda. The following day he experimented with the mixture. Based entirely on
intuition, he added some powdered St. John’s Wort, a touch of ordinary baking
soda, liquid vitamin E and a few drops of oil of cloves. Cum and an off-the-shelf skin moisturizer were still the primary ingredients
but he wanted to see if the new additives would make the cream even more
powerful. It did. Other women joined Linda in asking CD for sex. One of the most exciting of them all was his former wife, Cindy. When he
dropped by to pick up his children for the weekend, she grabbed him by the
lapels of his sport coat, pulling him closer, “CD, I think it’s time we tried
for a reconciliation. I need you. I need you now.” She opened her mouth and
kissed him, flicking her tongue down his throat. Before he could say
anything, she pulled down her pants to reintroduce him to her black bush.
“Remember this? I’ll have it hot for you when you bring the kids back on
Sunday. I can’t wait, CD. Don’t disappoint me and, believe me, I won’t
disappoint you!” And she didn’t. Before he brought the kids back he again lathered his body in the cum cream.
After she had tucked the children into bed she pulled him onto the couch and
began licking his body–including his seven inch long phallus. Then she
rolled over on top of him and slipped his shaft into her vagina and rode him
like a pony, her arms flailing about in wild abandon. She moaned so loudly he
was compelled to muffle her mouth with his hand so as not to wake the
children. She kept saying “More, more!” He began to reconsider their divorce. But his former wife was not the only woman who wanted him. In almost every
situation he found himself, women’even ones he’d never met before’approached
him with an eager aggressiveness, inviting him to their boudoirs, begging him
for sex. They wanted to please him with any sort of sex he wanted. In
return, they all wanted the same thing for themselves. They wanted to lick
his body. Afterwards they always wanted more. Anytime, they said, whenever he could
find time for them, no matter what they were doing they would cancel any plans
to do it with him. Soon, CD ran into a problem. Though he was a prodigious masturbator and
produced massive amounts of cum, he was having so much sex with so many women,
his supply of the magic cum moisturizer cream was running dangerously low.
After all, he was still eating much of the sperm he produced–for breakfast,
lunch and dinners, using only about 60 percent of it to mix with the
moisturizer and other ingredients. He needed a new source of cum. So he invited four his old pals over to watch
a Penn State football game on TV and to ask for their help. It was, of
course, necessary for him to tell them at least part of his unusual story. He
omitted the part about his obsession with eating on his own sperm and refused
any of their questions about his formula for the lotion. But he told them
about mixing the cream with sperm and all about the reaction it produced in
women. “It drives the wild for sex,” he explained with a knowing grin on his face. They reacted predictably: “You’re shittin’ us, CD. Man, I always knew you
had an imagination, but this is over the top! You’d have to prove that one to
us, CD.” Before the football game was over, he gave each of them a sample of the cream.
He rubbed a small amount of it onto their faces and offered them a challenge. “You’ll see how well it works when you get home. If your wives don’t drag you
into the bedroom I’ll write any of you a check for a thousand dollars. You’ll
see.” And, of course, they did see. No one asked him to write the check. The
following weekend, they reported their wives had ravished them after the
football game and wouldn’t stop until they’d licked their faces. They had
“fucked their brains out,” as one of them put it. That was proof enough for CD’s friends to agree to fill containers with sperm
for CD to make up enough for all of them to enjoy. Each week they
masturbated daily and collected their spunk. When they delivered a full
individual container, CD exchanged it for a vial of the cream. It became a bonding connection for CD and his friends. Soon, they began
masturbating together, watching xxx videos during half times of the TV
sporting events at CD’s house. They usually sat around in a circle, nude, jacking off together, sharing tales
about the sexual conquests that had come to them since the began using his sex
cream. Unbeknownst to his pals, CD didn’t use all his own sperm for the cream. He
enjoyed eating it too much to sacrifice all of it. He mixed some of his own
together with about a quarter of what his friends were producing and used it
for evening cocktails, tossing back shot glassfuls as ordinary men do
whiskey.. After experiencing personally the amazing results CD’s cream produced, one of
the men in the group– a man named Milton Houser– suggested they sell CD’s
new product. “Considering what it’s done for all of us, we’ll be
millionaires! What say, CD?” Houser was a talented marketing man. He suggested calling their new product
“Love Skin Cream,” with a price tag of $75 per vial. CD would be in charge of manufacturing. Dave Penser and Howard Bullock took
on the responsibility for sales. And Houser would handle the marketing. His plan was to use the power of e-commerce, to establish a web site and sell
it on over the net. Houser began by setting up trade-out cross selling ad banners, hot links and
flash screens on compatible sites to attract customers. He wrote the copy for
the home page and found a free lance web site designer to take care of the art
direction and getting on a server and up on the net. CD came up with the idea for the logo on the package. Penser arranged all
the details for encrypted bank card sales transactions over the net. They all agreed that once the orders started coming in they’d get together
every weekend to put labels on the containers and wrap them for shipping. Orders began pouring in from all over the world. Word of mouth
recommendations from satisfied customers increased the business incrementally.
They grossed $150,000 in the first 30 days. Ninety percent of the customers
reordered more. CD and his friends were each masturbating four to six times a day to keep up
with the orders. Soon they simply could not keep up with their burgeoning
enterprise. They had a meeting to resolve the crisis and Houser suggested getting together
with the Jack ‘n Jill club in Philadelphia. It was an ensemble of about 20
couples and singles who met weekly to masturbate for each other’s pleasure. The president of the club, a tall thin man named Rick (“No last names required
in our club, he explained.) made an attractive deal. He agreed to have an
attendant collect sperm from the jack off shooters in the club for a cash
payment of $5.00 per load. He said the money would be used for paying the rent
in the hotel and some snacks and drinks for his Jack ‘N Jill meetings. CD’s group agreed to a similar arrangement with an Asian gambling house on the
South side of Philly, though this source of supply cost them more per man.
The house manager would inform every man in the room that he could collect $10
for masturbating in the back room and leaving his deposit in a vial. This set up was more expensive than the Jack ‘n Jill’s club but they went
along with it because they were desperate for additional raw materials. To make absolutely sure they had a continuing supply of sperm, they ran ads in
the college newspaper proclaiming they were conducting a scientific study of
male sexual potency and promising to pay volunteers $7.50 for a load of their
sperm. They set up a small clinic near the university where students came in
as often as they could muster a hardon. Ultimately, this proved to be the most
reliable source of supply.