Breakfast with Rebeccah

Your morning routine almost makes you forget about Rebeccah's date with her co-worker. Much to your embarassment, you wake up with a soaking wet diaper again, but Rebeccah's mother is very kind about it, reassuring you as she bathes you. You notice she puts something in your bath that makes it smell perfumy, which you kind of enjoy. Rebeccah's mother also lets you know she is going to pull Rebeccah's old vanity out of the attic to put in your room, so you have someplace to moisturize your skin before bed.

When you sit down at the breakfast table across from Rebeccah, she seems to be avoiding eye contact and acting nervous about something, and that's when you remember that she went out on a date last night.

"How was your date?" you ask with trepidation, thinking it's better to just ask.

"Oh, it was nice," she says evasively. "We had dinner and then we went to another place to have a cocktail."

"Rebeccah, it's always best to be straight forward about these things," says her mother, looking over from the stove. "You aren't saving anyone's feelings by being evasive. "

"Yes, mommy," says Rebeccah, blushing deeply. "But it's embarassing to say in front of everyone at the breakfast table."

"Oh honey," replies her mother. "You are going to tell us both anyway, it's easier this way."

"Okay, here goes," says Rebeccah. "Brad was actually very nice. He opened doors for me, pulled out my chair at dinner, and was very courtious. I expected the usual from him - crude jokes or innuendos. He also didn't brag or act like a jerk at all. I was really surprised."

"He asked me a lot of questions about myself," she continues. "Some of his questions were really thoughtful, and it turns out he is a good listener. After dinner, we walked to a cozy little cocktail bar and had a few drinks."

"Did you talk about us being engaged?" you can't help asking.

"Oh, yes!" says Rebeccah, finally looking up from her plate. "I told him all about you and how excited we are to be married. I let him know that nothing will change about that."

"So what has you so bashful this morning?" asks Rebeccah's mother, bringing the egg pan over to the table, where she serves everyone a serving. "Did you hold hands? Kiss?"

Rebeccah blushes deeply and looks back down at her plate.

"We did hold hands on the way to the cocktail bar," she says quietly. "And in the booth, he asked if he could kiss me. It was very sweet, and I had a hard time saying no."

"So we had a few cocktails," Rebeccah says, but then stops. "I had three cocktails, actually. And they kind of went to my head. I'm afraid the kiss turned into more making out than just a kiss. He is, well, good at it."

"When we went back to his car," Rebeccah continues. "We made out a little more, and then..."

Her voice has been gradually getting more quiet as she continues, and her face redder. You can tell she is having a hard time with the final part of her confession. You feel compassion for her, even though it's twisting your guts.

"Go on," you say, trying to sound encouraging.

"Well," she says resolutely. "He told me our kissing had caused him some discomfort, because he was, um, really aroused. So he put my hand on it, which would normally seem really rude, but I was kind of turned on too, and he had been so nice all evening."

"Then he asked me to take it out," she contines. "So I did, and I was just holding it, and it was very, very hard. And then I was thinking what the quickest way to give him relief would be, and with the least amount of mess to clean up in his car, so I put my mouth on it. And then I did my best, although it is very big so I choked a little, but it didn't take long before he came. And I swallowed, of course."

"Because good girls swallow," interjects Rebeccah's mother, looking at me significantly.

"He didn't want to kiss me after that," says Rebeccah. "Which is understandable, I guess. And then he drove me home. And that's it."

"It's a shame you didn't get your needs taken care of," comments Rebeccah's mother. "But not a bad first date, overall. Don't you think so, sweet boy?"

You had been lost in a reverie thinking about Rebeccah's sweet lips wrapped around Brad's thick, veiny cock. Then swallowing his cum.

"Um, what?" you say, looking up.

"Don't you think it was a good first date?" she asks again.

"Yes," you say, blushing now, yourself. "I guess it does sound like a good date."

"There you see," she says. "Being forthright straight away is always best with these kind of situations. Sweet boy agrees that it was a good first date. Why don't you two go watch tv while I clean up. After that, I want to talk to you both about sweet boy's prostate health."