Tasha knew Barry from church choir back when they were teens. Then Barry’s voice changed and he had to drop out. “Too bad,” some of the girls joked. “If only he’d been okay with the castration.” Tasha thought this was cruel.

Then a few years later she ran into Barry at the local Starbucks. “You singing opera or what?” Tasha asked him.

“Naw, I’m in construction. Roof repairs, mostly,” Barry admitted. “Though I still sing, but only when I’m alone in my apartment.”

“You had such a great voice,” Tasha said. “I remember you could hit high C.”

Barry blushed.

“I’d love to hear you sometime.”

“I don’t know,” Barry said.

“Please.”

So it was arranged. Tasha visited Barry’s apartment the next weekend.

“I haven’t really unpacked,” Barry said.

The living room was indeed spare. A cabinet packed with CDs. A coffee table with speakers and a stereo player. Nothing else.

“I’m mostly just here to sleep,” Barry said.

“And sing,” Tasha prodded.

“Sometimes,” Barry admitted.

“How about we try the sleeping first,” Tasha said, leading Barry to the bedroom.

The fuck was all Tasha could have wanted. The nestling after was nice too. “That was good sleeping,” she told Barry. “Now for act two let me hear you sing.”

Back in the living room Barry put on a CD. “I can’t really come close to high C anymore,” he joked.

“I have an idea how I might help,” Tasha said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking we could do a sort of duet.”

Barry’s cock was still a little slippery from Tasha’s cunt. She milked him slowly to full strength. And then beyond.

“Wow!” Barry exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Tasha agreed. “That might not have been high C, but it was certainly hi semen.”

Barry laughed.

“I’m really glad you weren’t castrated,” Tasha told him. “Rest now, and then we’ll do act three.”