The Four Gifts

 To break away for one post from the more heartfelt writing of my week with the Brotherhood of Eight (or BO8 as I'm going to call them for lack of anything better) to give just a bit more information. . .

These eight guys had three factual things in common: (1) They were all from either the US or Canada; (2) They all had to be very wealthy [a bit more on that later]; (3) They all had huge cocks, both in length and girth.  (The only one who wasn't huge in girth was the one in the February 22 post though his cock got fatter as it went down the shaft and it was the longest of the 8.)  Some things I can't say are facts in truth but are facts to me are that they were incredibly sweet to me; that they put me on a pedestal so high I couldn't see the bottom; that they were lots of fun to be around; and that sexually they were respectful while being gently forceful, if that makes sense.  And maybe one last thing just to complete the set, I'd put their ages from early to mid 30's to maybe mid 60's.  Personally, I know very little about them - they didn't tell me and I didn't ask, but, God, do they know everything about me!  My words, thoughts, and body were an open book to them all that week - and by phone and text still are.  No question they asked went truthfully unanswered.  What they saw is what they got, literally!

I know what some of you noticed about this photo and that's reasonable and OK.  But here's an interesting question: if BBW stands for a Big Beautiful Woman why can't BBC stand for a Big Beautiful Cock?  (By the way, the guy standing behind the cock had just busted his load in my mouth and here he's holding my head, gently but firmly, so the other guy's monster cock can work it's way into my throat.)

Now back to the wealthy statement.  For my "services," even though half of what they paid went to the Agency and half to me it was still many times over the biggest payday I'd ever had (other than when Maria and I sold our shares in the studio to the Agency).  I enjoyed the week so much that I told them they didn't need to pay me my share but, of course, they were under contract to the Agency to send in the agreed upon amount (they paid 25% up front and 75% after).  When I suggested that maybe next time they wouldn't need to pay me they reminded me that it was through the Agency we got together in the first place and that they were obligated to keep it that way.  "Besides," they assured me, "we can afford it."

Then, yesterday, four things happened, each, to me, all wonderful.  The first was simple: a delivery of 8 roses all of different color with a short but awesome note: "We'll never forget a very amazing time with a very beautiful and sexy woman.  We can't wait to be with you again!"  A little later in the morning I got a text from one of the guys asking whether I was at home or at the studio - I was at the studio at the time.  A courier showed up at the studio a half hour later with a heavy box for me.  Was I ever shocked when I opened it!  Inside the box was a cooler and once I moved the cold packs off the top there I found eight pint jars each at least half full - OF CUM!  Those crazy, powerful men had each jacked off enough to send me between a cup and a pint of cum each!  There was a nonsensical word written on each sealed jar.  These guys are spread all over North America so how eight jars of cum got in one place and in one cooler and to me in just over a week is a mystery I'd just as soon never know the answer to.  Within minutes of opening it I started getting texts from the BO8 which, to summarize, went something like "To keep us fresh in your memory and taste buds!  And to play a game: which jar belongs to whom?"  More on that, too.  The third thing was a real shock: Late in the day I got a call from our VP Elaine asking me to check my account balance.  It's not unusual to receive sizable tips from guys we, ummm, service but when I looked I was stunned; those idiots had tipped me 4 times what they paid me!  It was like becoming independently wealthy overnight!  I immediately sent them a group text telling them they were all idiots, though it took me awhile to type it because I couldn't see my screen through all the tears of wonder and happiness and thankfulness.

Then the fourth gift: last night I ended up on a conference call with them to think them; for my part it was to think them again for the thousandth time for the week and then for my gifts, but they added an additional agenda item.  As you may recall, the initial contract was for me to get with them every six months for five years.  Early the week we were together things were already going so good and we were so comfortable with each other we decided to do it every three months.  Later in the week, they thought maybe we could do it every two months.  Before I left I asked couldn't we do it once a month.  They said they had lots of obligations to tend to and once a month simple wasn't possible even though they would love it.  On the conference call last night they told me they had moved a few mountains and could I meet them - all eight of them! - here in Florida where one of them has a home a couple hours drive from here!  I probably said (screamed really) "YES!" about a hundred times before they calmed me down.  It will be the week of March 20th.  And we're still on for April!

Now back to the second gift - the cooler of jars.  During our nighttime conference call they asked me if I had tasted them yet; I had as soon as I could after I got them.  I wasn't surprised when I scored a 100 on the eight jars by matching the nonsense word with their names.  (By the way, I know them only by names I gave them - I don't know their real names.)  I suggested they find a harder test for me as I had sworn during that week I would remember everything I could and the taste of their cum was top of the list.  I then told them Mom was jealous of my jars and would they mind if I gave her a similar test: I would give her a taste of each jar, blindfold her, and give her another taste to see if she could match them.  Of course they were OK with it so I called Mom into the room and put us on video.  I was already topless; Mom had on one of those tiny white sleeveless t-shirts and her tits looked gigantic.  I asked them if they would like to see her tits - I had enough confidence in myself to go that route - which, of course, they did and you could hear a collective "oh my fucking -" (insert a noun) when they saw her chest.  So anyway I gave Mom a tablespoon full of each jar, blindfolded her, shuffled the jars, and gave her a teaspoon full of each.  I had no doubt she would score 100 and she did, to the guys' amazement.  I told her she couldn't have any more - the rest was mine!  She said good-bye and left us and I finished the call with "I can't wait until the 20th!"

Well, damn, I didn't mean to write this much.  I hope you enjoyed it.  Will get back to more feelings of the heart, and body, in my next post.

Michelle