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I felt his climax gather as if I were the one climaxing, probably because I was. I felt what he felt. My cunt was creaming. Could experiencing his climax set off one of my own?Yes! When he peaked, when his exquisite sensations coursed through me, another orgasm exploded - mine! When his body went rigid, mine did, too. When his come jetted into my mouth, my mouth was wide open with an orgasmic wail. I had to concentrate. I wanted his climax to be prevalent, not mine. I wanted our orgasms to mingle, become as one, but still his had to dominate. I was sucking his cock to give him pleasure. So, I sucked. I swallowed. I pushed my mouth down around his ejaculating cock and felt another spurt of semen fly into my mouth. I couldn't swallow it all, but I tried.Oh, the taste! I adored its taste. The texture was slimy, though, like raw oysters. Enjoying the texture would need to be acquired, and I vowed I'd acquire the needed appreciation. Through practice. I got a kick out of sucking cock, and. Go and change, I will meet you in the basement."Sally put her plate and glass into the dishwasher and ran up stairs. Tom finished his lunch and went to change.Tom was already in the workout room his dad had made in the basement when Sally got down there. She looked over the machines, all lined up, along a mirror- covered wall. There was a television suspended from the ceiling in one corner, a stereo and VCR sat on a shelf just below it. Tom had put a CD in the stereo and had the music playing loud. He was on the treadmill, running at a medium pace. Sally, dressed in a pair of very tight black Lycra bike shorts and a white sports bra, sat on the weight machine and waited for her brother to finish.Tom stopped the treadmill and said, "The first thing we need to do is warm up. If you don't warm up properly, you can hurt yourself."Sally nodded and stood next to her brother, facing the mirror."The first thing we do," he said, "is stretch."Tom stood, with his feet apart and his hands on his.
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On of them, Tom, was a friend of Kim's."Mixed doubles," Kim said, and she paired up with the weakest player, leaving me with Tom.I apologized in advance for my ineptitude, but he smiled, pulled me toward him and pretended to whisper, "Not to worry, we'll take 'em."The match was not bad; I could at least get my serve in the court, and actually made a good return or two. When I did, Tom would, like a good jock, pat me firmly but gently on my bottom, and call out, "Way to go, T'esa." My name was getting shorter and shorter, like my skirts.I was very conscious of the fact that every time I made an unusual or fast move, my shiny white panties flashed, but I was too caught up in the game to think much about it, until, in the second set, one of Tom's pats found its way beneath my skirt, briefly stealing a feel of my pantied bottom. I quickly pushed his hand away, but said nothing. When we had finished, Tom apologized for his accident, but I was too pleased about the game and the fun we had.

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