I noticed her as soon as we entered the party. A stunning, curve-hugging purple dress, straight jet-black hair, pierced nose and eyebrow, and a smile of recognition when she saw my boyfriend, Al. So I was a little surprised when he steered me away from her. Actually, really surprised, since he’s seldom assertive, and because that took him straight into the very large embrace of the host’s mother.

Everything about Joyce Whittaker was very large – her smile, her voice, but especially her body.

She launched an interrogation immediately. “Allan! How have you been? How is your darling mother? Did that rash of hers clear up?”

I murmured some apologies part-way through Al’s update on his father’s dodgy knee, and made my way to the bar. Al’s brief flirtation with assertiveness seemed to be over, so he was likely to be there for some time and I needed a drink.

I grabbed a very average white wine and had just claimed a quiet corner to people watch from, when a bubbly voice broke in.

“Hi, I’m Gabrielle,” said the girl in the purple dress. “You must be Al’s girlfriend. How’s it all going?”

“Yes, I’m Jasmine. And it’s going great, thank you.”

Across the room, Al’s eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to politely excuse himself from his conversation with Mrs. Whittaker. But she seemed oblivious to his subtle suggestions and looked like she was just getting started. I doubted that Al would be rude enough to escape for quite some time, but I started to contemplate why he didn’t want me speaking to Gabrielle.

“Did you used to go out with Al?” I asked.

“Oh no. Nothing serious. Just one time really, but I do know his little secret.”

I looked at her, puzzled, and soon her smile turned into a confused expression too.

“You know,” she went on. “His black... seed?”

“Like sesame seeds?” I asked.

“Wait, you have...” Gabrielle made an ‘O’ with a finger and thumb of one hand and slid a couple of fingers of the other hand in and out.

Across the room, Al was now frantically trying to interrupt one of Mrs. Whittaker’s meandering stories, but still couldn’t get a word in edgeways.

I could feel my face flushing. “Well, not that it’s any of your business, but yes, we have. What’s that got to do with sesame—“

“You know when...” Now, she made a little explosion gesture.

I thought for a bit, still struggling to believe what she was implying. “We’ve always used protection—“

“But when he finishes on your face, or breasts, or...”

“He doesn’t seem to be into that.”

Gabrielle laughed and pointed at Al. “Are we still talking about that guy?”

Al finally escaped the clutches of Mrs. Whittaker and came over. “Hey there. So, you two have met? What have you been talking about?”

“Oh,” said Gabrielle, “just how great it is to see you happy and settling down in a committed relationship. You know, the type where you don’t have to hide anything from each other. Anyway,” she said with a broad smile, “I’d better leave you two lovebirds alone. Nice to meet you, Jasmine.”

Al’s face was white. And I was hatching a plan to find out if other parts of him were white too.

***

When we got home from the party, I dragged Al straight to the bedroom. As we kissed, I flicked on the light behind me.

Our kisses deepened and I could feel him hardening against my stomach. Then, he reached past me and turned the dimmer switch down until we could barely see each other.

I started to undo his shirt as he fumbled to find the zip of my dress. I pushed his shirt off of his shoulders, and as he pulled it over his wrists, I cranked the dimmer switch back up to a bright light.

He finally got the zip working and I shrugged the dress off my shoulders. Beneath it, I was braless and wearing just a small pair of lacy panties. I felt exposed in the bright light but turned on by the way his eyes drank in the sight.

He fumbled behind him, reaching for the light again, but I grabbed him by the belt buckle and pulled him away from it. “Leave the light on, please. I want to see you.”

“Um,” he said. I could almost see his brain thinking back to the party and probably coming to the correct answer to the question he was about to ask. “Why?”

But I just smiled and told him the truth (and nothing like the whole truth). “I love seeing your sexy body.”

I’m sure he didn’t believe that that was all, but he didn’t resist as I pushed him backward onto the bed. And as I unzipped his jeans and pulled out his rapidly-hardening cock, his ability to think rationally was rapidly fading. Then I stretched my mouth as wide as it could go and took in a small fraction of his cock, and he could only lie back and moan. The light remained on. I would have smiled at my small victory, but my mouth was stuck in a wide ‘O’.

My hand stroked his cock slowly at first, as my tongue lathered its bulbous head. But I steadily increased the pace as his moans grew louder and faster.

“Oh god, yes,” he said, his eyes closed. Suddenly, he snapped them open. “Wait!”

“So, do you want me to stop?” I asked, raising my eyebrows as I then resumed slowly licking the underside of the head of his cock.

“No.” Al let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh. “Yes. I want to make love to you.”

“Not tonight,” I said, building up speed as I stroked his cock just inches from my face. “Tonight, I want to taste your cum.” My voice wavered slightly, as I thought, `This is not the way that I talk.’ But I pressed on; I was a woman on a mission. “I want you to pump it out all over my face. Make me your porn star. Cover me in your cum.”

He reached out towards my hand as if to stop me, but seemed to change his mind as I reached my other hand up to gently fondle his balls. I could feel that they were pulled in close to his body and knew that he was close to coming.

I was pleased to see and feel the effect my dirty talk was having on him, but a little surprised to find it was having quite an effect on me too. My hand left his balls, and snaked down to my knickers, finding them drenched.

Al’s wide eyes followed my hand as I slid my fingers into my knickers and spread the wetness over my lower lips.

“I can just imagine us in a porno,” I said, my mouth still mere inches from the throbbing cock that I was slowly stroking. “You as the stud with the huge cock, ready to coat the face of some silly little slut with your cum.” I caught my breath, as my fingers slid over my clit. I was so close to coming. “While she frigs herself, so turned on by your huge cock. I want to be your slut. Cum for me. All over me.”

With a groan, he finally gave in. The first hot spurt hit my cheek, then he pumped more and more into my mouth, spilling out over my face and neck.

I looked to the mirror, suddenly desperate to see myself looking like a porn star. I’d never wanted that before; I didn’t approve of the treatment of women in porn, as just something for guys to come onto. And yet, the thought that I was being treated in just that way was pushing me so close to coming.

But when I looked, I didn’t look quite like a porn star. I looked like me, with strange black goo on my face and trickling down to my breasts. I sighed, knowing that my chance of an orgasm was gone.

I caught Al’s eye and found myself saying the words that I’m sure no man ever wants to hear. “We need to talk.”

***

And so Al told me a story which I would never have believed, had I not still had black semen on my breasts. A story about a purple genie who gave him three wishes.

The first he’d used on a larger penis. (I tried to resist the urge to roll my eyes as he told me.)

The second was for more experience, which somehow translated into an ‘Add-In’ for his brain that summoned up other people’s erotic memories.

And the third was something to do with black cum.

It all raised so many questions that I barely knew where to start, but I led off with, “And what was the point of black cum?”

“It was supposed to impress...” He looked down at the floor.

“Gabrielle?”

Al gave the faintest of nods.

“How exactly?” I asked. “I mean, surely you didn’t think that it would be like some obscene Cinderella story, where she was looking for the man with the correct colour of cum?”

“No, but Eugenie...”

“Hang on, the genie was called Eugenie?”

He shrugged. “She thought that because Gabrielle was such a goth at the time, that she might go for it. It didn’t exactly work...”

I was going to say something like, “I can’t imagine why not,” but I bit my tongue. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “So, you had the chance to wish for anything, and all your wishes were about sex?”

“Well,” said Al. “You see, there was a lot of fine print, and... I don’t know, when I was with Eugenie, that’s what popped into my head—“

“As opposed to the rest of the time?” I asked, with a smile.

He blushed a little and started to apologize.

“It’s okay,” I said, running a hand down his chest. “I rather like it. Anyway, we’ll just have to find this genie and get her to reverse all the wishes.”

“Yeah, maybe. Although I’ve looked for her with no luck. It might take years to find her. And, umm,” he said, looking down to where his cock was hardening again as my hand slowly moved lower. “Maybe we could keep one wish.”

“You know that I’d love you even if it was much smaller. What did it use to be like?” I asked, putting my hands about six inches apart and raising an eyebrow. He didn’t respond, so I brought them a little closer together. And then closer again.

Al shrugged and said, “Yeah, something like that. And...” With one forefinger and thumb, he indicated a girth about half of what I was looking at. And he wasn’t even fully hard.

“Ah,” I said. “You know, as they say, it’s not the size of the wand, but the skill of the magician. Although, if you want to keep that wish, I suppose we could...”

***

I found the genie the next morning. I was walking past a bric-a-brac store and just had a sudden urge to go in.

A familiar face, atop a very large body, greeted me inside. “Oh my goodness, if it isn’t Allan’s special friend,” said Mrs. Whittaker. “What a coincidence to have you come in when I’m only here for a day because my niece is at home with a sick baby. It must be fate, we clearly need to talk—“

“No time,” I said firmly. “I just need to look...” I didn’t know where to look amongst the shelves filled with a huge range of junk until I saw the sign saying, ‘More upstairs’. “Upstairs,” I said, setting off, as Mrs. Whittaker’s voice slowly faded behind me.

Upstairs, amongst assorted tacky faux antiques, was a shiny gold lamp that may have been a thousand years old. I had no idea how the store owner could have missed it, but I wasted no time rubbing it.

***

I guess I was half-expecting nothing to happen. And perhaps half-expecting an amorphous blob of a genie’s body. I definitely wasn’t expecting to see the largest purple breasts I’d ever seen. Actually, to be more precise, the largest breasts I’d ever seen, which happened to be purple.

I was still staring when a voice said, “Um, hello?”

Slightly startled, I looked up into black eyes set in a purple face.

“That’s better,” said the genie. “So, you probably know the drill. You make your three wishes, and then I’ll be gone.”

“Actually, I mostly just wanted you to fix up the damage your wish-granting has done for my boyfriend, Allan Williamson.”

“Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You turned his... his...”

“I don’t have all day, you know.”

“His... semen black.”

“Oh, Al. The nice young man who’s head over heels for the gorgeous but slightly odd girl obsessed with everything black. Does she not like the black cum? I thought that was a sure winner.”

“That ‘nice young man’ is with me now.”

“Oh no. What a disaster!”

I glared at Eugenie, and she gave me a smile that she may have intended to be reassuring. It wasn’t.

“But,” I said, “everything will be fine if you just reverse your changes.”

“Really? You think that that girl will fall for him then?”

“No! But Al is not interested in Gabrielle anymore.”

“Really? Okay, well, if you say so...” She could not have sounded more sceptical. “You know, you could just use one wish to reverse all three of his wishes.”

“Well, actually...”

“Oh,” said Eugenie with a smile, “you like the big...” She gestured to her groin, where her amorphous purple skin was growing, and forming into a shape rather like a penis. Actually, exactly like a penis in every way except for being two feet long and about six inches in diameter.

I blushed a bit, but I didn't disagree.

“Otherwise, it’s one wish per change you want. It’s all in the fine print.” She produced a pile of paper an inch high.

“Um,” I said, glancing down at the monstrous protuberance halfway down her body, “could you lose that, maybe?”

“Not your thing?” She sighed and her ‘penis’ disappeared. “I thought it rather suited me. Oh well, wish time.”

“Okay, I wish that my boyfriend’s cum was white.”

“Ah,” said Eugenie, producing a pile of white cards from behind her back and started to flick through them. “Would you prefer eggshell? Or vanilla? Ivory? Corn silk?”

I blinked a few times. “Just natural semen colour, please!”

“Hmm.” Eugenie frowned and flicked through the remaining cards. “There’s natural white, but nothing about semen colour... Maybe if I try a different paint store—“

I felt myself starting to lose my cool. “No paint store will stock semen colour!”

“Oh. Really? I wonder why not.”

“Look,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just undo whatever stupid change you made and make Al’s cum the colour it was before your meddling!”

“Now, now, young lady. No need to be rude. If you’d just said that to start with... I mean, ‘white’ is so nonspecific. What do you think I am? A mind-reader? Well, I mean, I am as it happens, but apparently, the almighty Genie Council says that I’m not supposed to do that without permission. Bloody meddlers. A few tiny complaints and they think that I should be put on probation. I mean, me, really? Of all the genies...”

Her rant petered out as I just stared at her. Then she looked at me blankly.

“Um, the wish?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” she said. “So you’re sure that the girl he likes doesn’t like black cum.”

“Listen! I am the girl he likes now – me –  and I want you to change it.”

She shook her head and shrugged. “Fine, fine. Whatever. I mean, your wish is my command,” and gave an exaggerated bow, setting her infeasibly large breasts into a hypnotic rocking motion. Then she muttered something like, “Bloody meddlers say I have to say that.” She gave an unconvincing smile and clicked her fingers. “Should I give it a trial run?”

A glass ball, about the size of a basketball, appeared on Eugenie’s hand, filled with a white mist which slowly dissolved. I could clearly see Al, shuffling nervously from foot to foot, at the front of a tutorial room with the Powerpoint presentation he had been working on for so long projected behind him.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “A trial run?”

“You know, I click my fingers, his clothes disappear, he cums, and we check out if the colour is what you’re after. Pretty simple, really.”

I stared at her. “During his project presentation? Are you fucking mad?”

“He does have dreams about that sort of thing, you know—“

“But... but... Look, just don’t do it, okay!”

“Fine.” The genie sighed, and the glass ball disappeared. “Let’s do your second wish then.”

“Okay, I would like you to reverse the second wish that Al made, where you gave him an ‘add-in’ of other people’s sexual memories. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Yes, thank you. That wasn't so hard now, was it? I mean, your wish is... oh, bugger that.” She clicked her fingers. “Right, one last wish and then we can get out of here.”

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t thought of a third wish. To be honest, I wasn’t convinced that Eugenie was actually capable of helping out anyway. But, since I had the opportunity, I figured I’d try to make the most of it. “Could I read that fine print?”

Eugenie’s shoulders slumped for a moment, then she straightened again. “Do you wish that you could read it all?” She was trying, but failing, to suppress a grin.

“No. I requested it, and I think you have to let me, or I might tell the Council.”

“Ha. You wouldn’t even know how to contact them,” she said confidently. Then she hesitated. “Unless... Oh, look, have it all.”

I tried really hard to read it all. I’m usually quite good at shutting out distractions – years of studying while roommates partied, discussed boyfriends, girlfriends and god knows what else had helped with that – but I struggled with the pages of genie usage rules. For all of their flaws, none of my roommates had ever grown a two-foot cock and danced around, making it swing like a helicopter blade, while I tried to concentrate. Or hummed to themselves in four-part harmony while doing it.

“How do you do that?” I asked.

“Well, I just swing my hips and get it swinging around and—“

“No, I meant the humming. Oh, never mind...”

I had thought of quite a few good wishes, but most seemed to be ruled out somewhere in the terms and conditions. And somehow, standing in front of a naked genie with astonishingly large breasts, my thoughts kept returning to one thing. Especially when she said something about “trying a small one for a bit” and grew something more life-like. More like the size that Al had.

“You know,” she said, stroking her still-rather-large appendage. “I can almost see why guys are so obsessed with these things.”

“Look, I’m ready to make my last wish.”

Eugenie stopped mid-stroke. “At last! What is it?”

“I wish that I could orgasm more easily.” I thought for a moment about who I was speaking to. “Umm, I mean, just a tiny bit more easily. No dramatic changes, please!”

“Hmm,” she said, her cock disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. “Could I do just a teeny little bit of mind reading, please?”

I nodded and almost instantly felt a fleeting pain at the front of my head.

“Hmm, hmm, hmm,” said Eugenie. “Interesting. You seem to have no problem coming when you masturbate, and there’s certainly enough times in your memory to judge that that’s no fluke.”

I could feel my face going bright red.

“But when you’re with a guy,” the genie went on, “it’s a different story. Maybe that’s their fault, or maybe you need to be a bit more open about what actually turns you on, rather than what you think should turn you on.” She sighed. “But I get in trouble when I try to do the right thing, I’ve been here for hours, and you did wish for it, so...” She shrugged and clicked her fingers.

I was instantly very aware of my bra rubbing over my suddenly hard nipples, and my cotton knickers touching my engorged clit. I subconsciously squeezed my thighs together and had to stifle a moan.

“One quick test?” asked Eugenie. “Just say when you want to stop. Actually, you can just think it.”

I had the strangest feeling, like a gentle touch of a finger somewhere inside my clit. For a moment, I tried to figure out what was going on, but then the first orgasm hit me like a truck.

Soon, I was rolling around on the floor, unable to tell where one orgasm finished and the next began. My moaning was interrupted only by gasps for air as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. Part of me wanted the sensations to go on forever, but a thought crossed my mind, ‘I don’t think I can take any more. I wish this would stop.’ I’m not sure that I could have verbalized it if I tried, but it turned out that I didn’t need to.

The stimulation stopped, and I curled up in a ball on the floor, waiting for the spasms to subside and trying to steady my breathing.

“Wow,” said Eugenie. “Sometimes I love my job. Gotta run now, though. Toodle-oo.”

Several minutes later, my legs had stopped shaking and I found the energy to stand. I slipped my saturated knickers off and stuffed them in my handbag, and then went down the stairs, carefully gripping the handrail as I went.

Mrs. Whittaker looked up from a magazine as I unsteadily approached.

“Oh my,” she said, “I had for... I mean, I meant to go and check on you, but it’s been really busy down here.”

I glanced around the empty shop.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.

I started to nod and then thought better of it.

Mrs. Whittaker’s expression hardened slightly as she looked at my empty hands. “You’re not buying anything today? Well, I really don’t mean to be rude or imply anything, but my niece said that I really should check everyone’s bags, so if you would be so kind.”

I opened the bag, and Mrs. Whittaker started to reach in, saying, “It’s really just a...”

Her hand suddenly stopped as she realized that on the top of everything was a pair of knickers. A very, very wet pair of knickers. And I can only guess that she could recognize the smell of sex wafting up from them.

She looked up at me, open-mouthed but silent for a change. I just smiled and shrugged. Neither of us said a word as I closed the bag and headed straight out the door.

***

The breeze up my skirt was extraordinarily stimulating, but I managed to stay fairly calm for the walk to the bus stop. Things only really went downhill after I sat down near the back of the bus. It turned out to be a rather old and noisy bus, with the engine’s vibrations transmitted through to my seat. And that was all it took.

I fought so hard to remain quiet. But after my third orgasm, I forced my eyes open. Fortunately, there weren’t many passengers, and most were too engrossed in their phones to notice my predicament. One elderly lady across the aisle was watching me closely, but she smiled in a friendly way when I met her gaze. Then the bus accelerated again, and I had to close my eyes as orgasm number four for the journey hit.

Three stops and around eighteen orgasms later, I had to get off the bus. As I carefully stepped off (being extra cautious not to rub my thighs together in too stimulating a way), I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. The elderly lady shuffled across the aisle to try out where I had been sitting and smiled at me as I stepped onto the kerb.

***

I hadn’t really given much thought to where I was when I got off the bus, but without the bus’s vibrations, I could think things through and I realized that I was only ten minutes walk from Al’s place.

Ten minutes of feeling the breeze up my skirt. Ten minutes of remembering the embarrassment (and excitement, if I was honest with myself) of orgasming on a public bus. And ten minutes of thinking through what Al and I might do. Ten long, long minutes. By the time I knocked on Al’s door, I was like one gigantic ball of sexual energy.

He stared at me as soon as he opened the door. “Jazz... my God, what’s happened?”

“Your parents home?”

Al shook his head. “No. They’re out all day. My presentation went well, by the—“

“Talk later. Fuck now.”

Al’s eyes went wide, and he started to babble. “What did you say? What’s going on?”

His poor brain seemed overwhelmed, but fortunately, his cock reacted. It was hard as I grabbed it through his jeans and kissed him. Well, more just thrust my tongue into his mouth.

I’d undone his belt and jeans button before he could react. Suddenly, he dragged me inside. “Mrs. W might be watching from across the street. She tells my parents everything—

“She won’t be watching, but... ohh, never mind.”

Al looked thoroughly confused. “What do you – aarghh—“

He half-screamed as I tackled him to the floor, and rolled him onto his back.

“What’s got into you?”

Hiking up my skirt, I guided his cock inside me, and slid down almost the whole way, feeling deliciously full. “You,” I said, with a sigh. Then I started to come.

***

I lost count of how many times I came before Al unloaded deep inside me. All I know is that by the time we'd stopped rolling around the hallway, there were a number of wet patches on the carpet.

“Umm, sorry about the carpet,” I said.

“That’s okay,” said Al. “I’m getting quite good with stain remover.”

I gave him a very quick rundown of my encounter with Eugenie, skipping over the fact that Mrs. Whittaker had been in the shop and silently hoping that she wouldn’t feel the need to tell the whole world about my underwear.

“So,” he said with a smile, “when you had an extra wish, you made it about sex?”

“Well, as you said, the terms were quite restrictive...”

He nodded in agreement.

“And all I have to do if there are any problems is to say, ‘Eugenie, I summon thee,’ three times. Then I get a free wish, so I could undo this change. It pays to read the fine print sometimes.”

Al suddenly sat up straight. “Did you hear something?” he asked, as he pulled his jeans up. We hadn’t found the time to actually undress.

“No... Anyway, now that all those other people’s dirty thoughts are out of your brain, and it’s only your dirty thoughts left in there, is there anything you’d like to try?”

“Well, actually.” He looked more than a little embarrassed. “Do you remember when you were pretending to be a porn star. That was really hot. I mean, we don’t have to do anything like that if you don’t—“

“We can do that,” I said, perhaps a little too quickly. “But,” I said, batting my eyelashes, “this is my first time ever doing a porn movie. You’re such an experienced, famous star – you might have to tell me what to do.”

Al smiled. “Perhaps we need a little bit of a plot...”

“I have an idea,” I said, heading off to the kitchen. As I walked, I rolled over the waistband of my skirt, pulling it up to a level that would have been quite indecent even if I had been wearing underwear. “I’m so glad that you could come over. Of all the plumbers in town, I hear that you have the best tool to fix my little problem.”

“Oh, really? I do get a lot of compliments for my tool, and for how I use it. So, what is your problem?”

I turned around and leaned forward a little. I could feel his eyes drinking in the sight as the skirt rode until it was barely covering my arse cheeks. “I just can’t seem to turn the tap on.”

He pressed up behind me to reach past me. I ground back into him, feeling that he was already hardening again.

“Um, it turns the other way,” he said.

“Oh, silly me,” probably overacting horrendously. “There is one other thing I’d like you to look at,” I said, breaking out of his arms and stepping over to the dishwasher. Placing my feet about a foot apart, I leaned forward from my waist until my skirt was halfway up my butt cheeks and my pussy was on full display, with some of Al's previous ejaculation running down my inner thigh. The thought of thousands of men masturbating over that view in a porno had me on the verge of yet another orgasm even without touching myself.

“You do seem to have a little leak there. I’d better inspect it closely.”

He knelt behind me. I was sure that the slightest touch would send me over the edge, but Al just teased me, getting close enough that I could feel his breath hot against my inner thighs, but not quite touching me.

“I think,” he said, “I have just the tool to plug that hole.”

“Oh god, yes. Put your tool in my... hooha.”

“Hooha?” he said. “I don’t think that’s quite the language porn stars use...”

I blushed slightly – I’d always been a little shy about expressing myself during sex, or asking for what I wanted, but since I was playing a role, I figured I’d try to say something suitably naughty. I took a deep breath and looked Al in the eye. “Okay, stud. Fuck me. Stick that huge cock into my dripping cunt and fuck me hard.”

Al’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t hesitate in pulling his cock from his pants and pushing it into me.

As soon as he was inside me, I started to come. Every stroke seemed to set up another little spark in my pussy, like an endless sequence of small orgasms. But I wanted more.

“Pound my cunt. Ohh,” I gasped as I came yet again. I'd already forgotten that I was playing a role, but the words kept flowing. “Spank my naughty arse. Use me. Ohh.”

Al gave a tentative slap on my arse cheek.

“Harder! Spank me hard. Make my arse... ohh, red.”

The slap reverberated around the kitchen.

“Oh, fuck!” I screamed.

“Um, sorry,” said Al. “Too hard?”

“No, just right. Just... ohh, I can’t stop coming on your amazing cock. Spank me hard. Fuck me hard. Make my cunt as red as my arse. Use me like the little slut that I am. Ohh. Then I want you to cover my face with your hot... ohh, white... ohh, cum.”

Al was enthusiastically spanking my arse as he pistoned into me. It felt like my entire lower body was on fire, with each orgasm becoming slightly more intense.

Suddenly, Al let out a moan, and withdrew his cock, leaving me feeling empty. I knew what was coming, and managed to spin around and kneel before him just in time for the first rope of cum to hit my cheek. A few more followed – in my mouth, across my chin, and onto my breasts.

“Give me every drop,” I said, then sucked his cock until he pushed me away as it became too sensitive.

“I have to see this,” I said, dashing to the bedroom. I looked in the mirror at my face, flushed and crisscrossed by a few streaks of cum. Natural-coloured cum.

I lowered one hand to my clit and frantically stroked. With my other hand, I collected the cum from my face and breasts and fed it into my mouth. All the time, I watched myself in the mirror – seeing myself as an insatiable cum slut, licking up every drop of cum from my fingers.

Finally, one gigantic orgasm began in my clit and seemed to course up my spine, until my whole body was shaking, overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure. And then everything faded to black.

***

I awoke in Al’s arms, lying on his bedroom floor. I met his worried expression with a blissed-out smile which seemed to give him a great feeling of relief.

Snuggling up to him, my needs apparently finally satiated, I started to feel slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, was that over the top?”

Al gave a sleepy smile but didn’t reply.

“Sometimes," I said, "I wish that I knew what you were thinking.”

“It was really hot, Jazz—“ Al started, before a familiarly strange voice interrupted.

“Unbelievably hot, really.”

“Eugenie. What the fuck are you doing here?” I tried to pull up a sheet to cover myself from the genie at the end of the bed. I wondered how much she’d seen.

Eugenie laughed. “You humans are weird. Worried about covering yourself after I’ve seen you begging to be fucked and spanked.”

I blushed as red as my butt probably still was. “How dare you watch us!”

Eugenie shrugged. “Gotta get what pleasure you can from your job. Anyway, you said, ‘I summon thee three times,’ so here I am.”

“But I didn’t repeat it three times.”

“Well, no, but you said those exact words, which I’m sure counts. Anyway, gotta fly. Toodle-oo.”

“Wait. Don’t I get an extra wish?”

“All done,” said a faint voice as a purple ball disappeared through the window.

I looked at Al and somehow an image of a woman with black hair and piercings covered in white cum appeared in my brain. Followed by a thought, ‘Oh fuck, did she wish to know what I was thinking?’

“Yes, I think I did,” I said in response to Al’s unasked question.

We lay there in silence for a few moments, before both shouting together.

“Eugenie!!”