Happiness in a Bottle
I love coconut water. Especially the sweet kind that's kind of milky. It comes in a glass container with a wide mouth big enough for me to push the head of my cock through. The slogan on the bottle cap says "Happiness in a bottle" and that's certainly true before I'm done with it.
I pour it into a champagne flute and sip from it while I look at porn on the internet. The flute is just the right diameter to fit snugly around the head of my cock when it's all hard and swollen. And the the clear fluid within looks like cum, with its milky wisps.
I like to drink my glass of jizzy juice while I stroke myself and stare at naked flesh on my screen. Sometimes I watch my own videos, getting off on the counter that shows how many views my videos have had; on the thought of all those people watching me cum. Of them coming while they watch. While they watch me.
My dick stays hard for a long time, especially if I've smoked some pot. I can masturbate hard and fast and stay so close to orgasm, for almost an hour. The twisting veins along my shaft so hard and sharply defined under the skin. My balls so hot and hard, full of my sperm. I leak lots of precum, too. It drips out the end of my stiff dick in silky strings and I let it stream into my champagne glass full of coconut water.
I sip my own precum and juice from my glass while I jerk myself off. I watch movies of people doing each other in public or doing themselves in public or doing both. Then I watch my movie of myself masturbating in public. Outside by the road, totally naked where everyone can see. Well, almost totally naked. I was wearing a steel ring around my cock and balls and a few more tighter rings around my balls. When I wear my heavy rings, the closer I get to cumming, the more my balls pull tight against the rings. My orgasm is delayed and stretched out... Made more intense, almost agonizing.
And when I cum on screen, I cum in real life. Into my glass.
My pearly, silky jelly swirls in my glass. Then over my teeth and around my tongue. And after a long, indulgent moment, down my throat.
I fantasize about filling my wife with my hot, slippery, sticky juice and then kneeling between her long legs and bringing her to orgasm with my tongue. Tasting my juices mixed with hers. Making her cum so hard that her contractions pump my fluids out between those perfect pink petals.
Then I'd hold my champagne flute up against per pussy lips and let it fill with our ejaculate. And we'd step outside with our drink into some public setting like a sidewalk cafe and take turns sipping from it slowly, surrounded by strangers. Holding hands and being sinful together.
Then the waitress appears and asks if we want a refill. And we look at each other and smile.
"Sure!" We'd say. "We'd love a refill."
"What are you drinking?" The waitress would ask, holding our champagne glass up to the light.
And we'd smile at each other and bust out laughing.