Kiss of Life

Real life whores don't drown in semen. Lois knew that, and she had seen prostitutes from their first trick to when they showed up in the morgue. All her life, so prim and proper, and here she was...too tired to do more than open all her holes to the warm, thick, welcoming flood of cum. She closed her eyes, air burning in her lungs, as the darkness enveloped her.

Lois remembered the first penis she'd sucked. A boyfriend, in college. She knew it was time for certain things. Sexual things. As an adult, she was free to do what she wanted now. Imagined herself mature enough for such acts of intimacy. Imagined how it would feel. The pleasure that all the movies and books promised.

She hadn't imagined **** on her first dick. The general's daughter, the up-and-coming journalism student, hadn't learned to deep throat yet. It hadn't felt wonderful. It had been hard and hot and stuck in her throat, and the boyfriend had been brutish, unconcerned with her pleasure. His hands had gripped the sides of her head and pushed him down on his cock until she gagged, drool dripping down into his balls. A quick shot that ejaculated his watery seed right onto her tonsils, so she'd coughed and gagged, hoping none of his thin spunk made it down an airway.

Lois could feel that sensation again. The overwhelming taste of cum, the burning lungs, the strong contractions of throat and diaphragm...and something else. A pressure on her face, on her lips. Pushing down on her, oxygen flooding her airways. She opened her eyes...

...to see a face like the Mona Lisa, but slightly strange, exotic. Eyes too large, jaw too narrow, and streaked with familiar white strands. A mass of dark hair.

Lois coughed. Something heavy came up. The woman rolled Lois onto her side as she hacked and wretched. White gobs oozed and slid from her lips. A warm hand patted and thumped her back, massaged arms and legs.

The process of expelling the cum seemed to take a long time, although it was probably only minutes. She could see the puddle of semen grow and take shape in front of her, until one edge trailed off into a little stream toward a grate in the floor. A milky white river that would have done a bukkake proud, and she knew that was only a fraction of it...what had made it into her airways when she had passed out. Not what Lois had swallowed before that, or what was drying against her clothes and body and hair. She shifted her hips and felt her panties squelch.

She turned to the woman. "Who...are you?"