Magical Love Skin Cream

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.