Changes to the role of his cum.

I wished to see these typically hands-off girls acting like kinky pervs some more. You could say it scratched an itch of mine, one that was long, stiff, and intrinsically Freudian. I gripped my pencil a second time, and, writing hastily into the notebook, jotted down:

Old Rule: Drinking any liquid other than Ernie's cum when he's present is non-courteous and seen as bad guest manners.

Old Rule: Ernie can either masturbate himself into anywhere he'd like to unload his semen, or ask someone else, usually the drinker, to employ the stimulation.

Thinking of the ramifications of that, I tapped my cheek, then turned a couple pages forward. Then I wrote another tidbit, under a new category.

Reality

Old Rule: Ernie Wells can cum as much as three liters of semen in the span of two ejaculations. He suffers no strain and can get fully erect shortly following any given ejaculation.

I paused, as suddenly, goofy inspiration struck me. What if I took this to an even sillier level? Just how far could the line be drawn? With the ability to rewrite even reality's rules, wasn't this the chance to seize the temptations that haunted me?

Before I could stop myself, I continued scribbling.

Old Rule: Depending on the time of day and other possible factors, Ernie Wells' cum may take on various flavors. During morning, the cum has a fruity taste. During early afternoon, the taste becomes sweet, and as the afternoon progresses, it's taste will become reminiscent to warm green tea. After evening, during nighttime (and during graveyard hours), its taste is indistinguishable from milk.

I didn't stop there, however, aiming to give myself some otherworldly benefits a sexually minded guy like myself could appreciate.

Old Rule: Depending on how hot he views a girl and/or how much he wants her at that given moment, the cum generated specifically for that person will either be hot, warm, or cold. The hotter it is, the more desire he has fixated on the girl for which the cum is provided. When drunk, this will also have the effect of stripping away the drinker's inhibitions. While their personality will remain intact, their behavior will be looser and less restrained, more comfortable with being blunt, relaxed, or honest, or taking certain initiatives; contrary to a state of drunkenness, which also clouds the individual's mental faculties, this instead lifts clouds of perceived standards from the mind.

With that, I closed the rulebook and pocketed the pencil. Quite the paragraph; not usually my form.

But all thoughts washed away when I suddenly heard a yawn. Retracting from the ledge, I slowly slid my eyes over the wall. The three girls were still sitting comfortably, now a little more invested in their phones as the last topic probably ran itself dry. Diana, meanwhile, stretched her arms in the chair, which caused her cute, humble breasts to push against her top.

I admit, I looked.

"You still sore from last night, girl?" pestered Tina, her eyes pulled up from her phone.

"You know it." Diana rubbed her neck. "Camping is fun, but I don't know if I can take another over sized tree root to watch out for." Tina just laughed singularly. Reaching to the side of her chair, Diana grabbed a smoothie she apparently had picked up from earlier and clenched the straw between her teeth when the two other girls gasped.

"Wait, Diana," stopped Sammie. One brow raised, Diana looked at her Asian girl friend and club mate with a look of slight impatience. She blinked.

"Um." She released the straw. "Yeah?"

"You can't just drink a smoothie here," Tina whispered, hush-hush. Their heads all leaned in to participate in the discreet roundtable. "We're at the Wells'. Remember?"

Diana blinked again. Then clarity seemed to dawn on her, and her shoulders slumped.

"Shit, right." The blonde looked to the side in dismay. She set the smoothie on the table, and said, "I forgot."

"Jeez, girl," Tina rolled her eyes, like she was poking her friend over a forgotten address.

"Close one." Sammy's smile beamed, which, even at its petite, gentle state, made the room a little less cold.

"I'm not really a fan of his penis's tea flavor, though," Diana sighed, sitting back with folded arms. "That's more your thing, isn't it, Sammy?"

beat. Holy crap, I thought, as the Asian girl explained her preferences when it came to tea beverages. Holy crap. They were casually, nonchalantly talking about my cum and drinking it like it was obviously another refreshment. Throb.

In another world, they would sound sluttier than a trio of prostitutes taking a fifth round on Mardi Gras.

In here, they were just normal girls. And, like any normal person, they were... thirsty.

"Let's all get some cum," proposed Tina, the brunette slapping her knees as she devolved into a stretch of her own. "I'm parched anyway."

Sammy just nodded. Diana asked if they were sure I was home. Tina said that I was, having come out of my room earlier when she was in the bathroom, right before my mom had gone off to collect the necessary materials. Indeed, I could confirm that statement -- it was actually during that time that I had taken some pics of them while they were unaware. Barely managed to get a glimpse up Sammy's skirt, too.

Yet speak of the devil...

"I'll go ask him." Be still my already beating heart. It was all within the span of a second, but with a simple flourish of her skirt, Sammy pulled her legs up to stand, causing the bottom garment to rush up her thighs. By doing so, I was able to catch a quick, bare, uncovered glimpse of her glorious, surprisingly neatly trimmed pussy just below, while she stood to her feet. Once she was up, she deflected a joke from Tina I was too distracted to care about and began walking towards the hall.

Shit, I thought, realizing that was where I was. Pushing my boner back into a reasonable position, I scurried back to my room, rulebook still in hand.

However, in the back of my racing mind, I was still effusing, hardening at the sight of that slightly olive-skinned trove of goodness Sammy had unknowingly given me. I bit my lip in a naughty smile. Had to hand it out to whoever out there made this; this book was the best gift a guy could ask for.