Elizabeth loved the feel of Hosni’s jewel pouch. A tender warmth, a comforting give, an interesting texture. The jut of his penis was another story. She wasn’t sure she’d want to touch it, to say nothing of kissing it or feeling it inside her, as she knew would happen one day, but not today, and probably not tomorrow.

She also loved the feel of Hosni’s hand, gentle on her head. She thought of the paw of a big dog, or a bear, a beloved bear, one that might growl but would never harm her, even as the big paw drew her gently, slowly towards the jutting penis.

The little slit was much too narrow, even for the tip of her tongue, but the penis head wasn’t too big for her mouth. It was surprisingly soft, and had a pleasant warmth to it. What’s more, she could feel it move—little jerks like the twitch of a dog’s tail.

The spurting surprised her. She would have pulled away, if only by reflex, but Hosni’s hand kept her head there, and she didn’t mind. She wondered how long the jolts would continue and how much stuff there would be and whether it would be rude to let it flow out, because her mouth was filled nearly to overflowing, but then the jolts abated and the penis dwindled and departed, leaving the eggy cream behind. It didn’t taste bad. It didn’t taste much of anything. It took her three swallows to get it all down.