One swallow doesn’t make a spring #33

Svitlana looked at her knees, something wistful in her expression. “You like the idea of making me swallow. There’s lots of stuff about power, in this, that you aren’t talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s true. It feels like you’re submitting, when you swallow what I give you. It makes me feel triumphant. But that’s because I’m a dom; I tend to think that way. But the power works both ways. Some of me gets absorbed. It becomes part of you.”

Umami in preparation, in a Japanese porno kitchen. Steamy, as ever, is best.

Umami in preparation, in a Japanese porno kitchen. Steamy, as ever, is best.

“Mine.” She smiled and touched my cock, still asleep, spent, limp on my thigh.. “It’s … umami.”

“It’s what the hell?”

“Umami is a flavour. In Japanese cooking. It’s a kind of tasty savoury bland. Like a miso soup. Maybe mushroom. Your come is umami, but it’s like it started out too bland, and it’s been salted to make up for it.”

I considered that. “You’ve had it on your tongue quite a while now. You could have got rid of it by swallowing, ages ago. So you can’t pretend you mind it all that much. “

Svitlana grinned, revealing that she still had my come in her mouth. I’d started to wonder. “No, it’s not horrible.”

“Then swallow it because I bloody said so.”

“Just a moment.” Svitlana closed her eyes and screwed up her face, like a child pretending her rice pudding is frogs’ eggs. She swallowed dramatically, twice, then gasped for air. I was sure that wasn’t necessary. 

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