Enzyme deficiency 2
Enzyme Deficiency pt. 2
I got home around 6 after having a (modest!) drink at O'Rourke's. I cast off my still damp jacket and slumped into the leather recliner that served as the centerpiece of my den. Online poker time! Lucy had warned me about wasting my time and money on this shit but at my age I think I've earned the right to dick around a little with my own hard earned cash. I had completely lost track of time when I head the familiar creak of the door. "Damnit not this again." I sighed. "Lucy first you say no online games. Then no browser based ones. I don't even spend more than a few bucks on it, leave me alone." I could sense her annoyed gaze boring into the back of my skull. "Fine, but dinner'll be ready soon. Don't keep us waiting. Oh, and it's time for Emma's evening feed."
It took a moment to process that. I'd already done two feedings earlier, for that stranger at the bus station whose daughters were hungry. I was still in my prime at 38, but three full loads in a single day was asking a bit much. "Fine, send her in whenever." I unzipped in preparation. I wondered if I'd have enough brewed up by the time Emma was ready. Like most other parents, we'd tried the synthetic formulas: There was a mass recall four years ago because it turned out that they mitigated most of the symptoms but still lacked some essential nutrient, as girls weaned on the stuff were going into random fits of shock only a few weeks after switching over. Some seemed to get by on it just fine only to go into comas after several years, others were immediately allergic to the stuff. Only the real thing seemed to work, and the gradual transition back to natural feeding was a source of great controversy as of late.
That controversy seemed just a little sexist to me. When women breastfeed their boys, nobody would complain. For some reason males produce the enzyme naturally, but girls had to suckle on their fathers much like boys must suckle on their mothers in their formative years. The difference of course was that girls never outgrew the need. For some inexplicable evolutionary reason, human women were alone amongst females of other primate species in needing daily feedings; Illustrations going all the way back to cave etchings confirmed for scientists that it's always been part of our male/female interdependency, and no artificial alternative had yet been discovered.
The door creaked again. "Daddy?" a familiar voice squeaked. "Oh hey Emma, how was school today?" Emma is twelve, and attends a private girl's school that thankfully her wealthy grandparents (on Lucy's side) pay for. Her long, curly blonde hair was parted into loose tails, tied only at the ends. "It was okay. We had an assembly about landfills or something, there was a guy in a garbage can costume. I slept through most of it." I laughed. She settled into her usual position between my legs, and delicately pulled my semi-erect penis out of my pants. Wasting no time, she began fondling my balls and licking up and down the length of my penis. I'm not the type to have perverse thoughts about my own daughter, but it was pretty well understood among men that we all enjoyed being fed off of. Don't women become aroused when suckled from? It was something many men, especially fathers struggled with....but of course wouldn't complain about.
I was fully erect by this time, Emma was partially under my desk, her blonde little head bobbing up and down as she sucked her evening meal out of my dick. She took it out and caughter her breath, keeping me going with her hand. "Man, I didn't realize how hungry I was. I haven't had any since morning." With that she lowered her mouth back onto the tip of my penis, swirling her tongue around the ridge. "Hey, that's new." I remarked. "Yeah, we have classes for it now remember? They sent us home with plastic things to practice on. It was hilarious, Carlie and Renee were lightsabre fighting with theirs during free period and they got them taken away." I winced. Getting proper sex ed into schools had been quite a trick. Everyone accepted feeding as a necessity of life, but getting PTA boards to approve of teaching girls how to suck cock in public school had been nothing short of a hat trick. Didn't seem so odd to me. After all, a mixture of teachers and volunteers served as afternoon feeders for their pupils. What was so scandalous about improving their technique when they were already feeding off their teachers every day?
In my momentary reflection I'd stopped paying attention to my daughter, who I just noticed was giving my cock a tongue bath in the deep recesses of her mouth. "Hurry dad, you're taking forever." I pinched her nose. "Maybe because you're doing more talking than sucking?" She stuck her tongue out at me before going back to work on my dick, and I laughed. She suddenly becamse really vigorous; impatient, but in a very good way. Her head was bobbing furiously, sliding the entire length of my cock in and out of her mouth. her pink chapstick-lined lips, moistened with saliva, were sliding up and down the hot, pulsating skin of my shaft and I just couldn't hold back anymore. I put both of my hands on her head and pushed my dick as far into the back of her throat as it would go as thick ropes of semen burst forth. Well shit, I guessed I was selling myself a bit short! I moved my hands away when she gagged and coughed, but she was too hungry to care about anything besides the creamy load sliding down her throat. She gulped it down, licked her lips and began to get up. "Mom's pretty cranky. I wouldn't miss dinner tonight if I were you." The door creaked again as it shut, and I went back to my game.
Dinner wasn't on the table until 9, sparing me my wife's wrath for the night. It was pork cutlets and gravy with a side of potato cakes, and it was just what I needed to recharge after such a...*ahem*...draining day. "Oh honey," Lucy interjected, "I need you to sub tomorrow." We were both in education and occasionally she'd have me sort some paperwork or deliver her reports. I didn't mind much; mine job was more or less busywork, not through any fault of my own so much as the overly beaurocratic nature of highschool administrations. I'd never suggested any changes of course, because my job would be one of the first to go in the event of a reform. "What do you need me to do?" She looked up at me over a bite of pork and finished chewing before she continued. "Well my teaching assistant is out sick. I know you've got lax hours this week so would you mind coming in and helping me out?" Sure, I figured. We have our spats but (wait for the pun!) I love Lucy. She's a mean cook, a funny girl and her ass is tight enough to bounce a quarter off despite having Emma 12 years ago.
I showed up around ten the next morning. I'd only been a few times before, the last time was a few years ago. It had been like a hospital then; sterile white hallways and overhead neon lighting casting everything in a sickly pallor. It was completely different now! Everything from finger paintings to cooperative murals lined the walls, and messy-haired girls from 6 to 16 ran by me in both directions as I picked our my wife's class number. "Oh good you're here, have a seat in the corner." What, no hello? She pecked me on the cheek. "Grade those papers while I get some fresh air. "But I don't have your lesson plan or the answers, I don't even-" She interrupted me with "It's multiplication of fractions. I didn't marry an idiot. Shouldn't take you longer than an hour." Multiplication of fractions? I looked up and noticed for the first time that it was a mixed class. I spotted my daughter in the first row. I waved...she sunk into her seat and turned a deep red. "Over here Emma! It's me, Daddy!" Oh man, this was good shit. Her friends were snickering now. The other half of the class seemed to be mostly ten and eleven year olds, presumably the prior grade. The room was totally silent, and every last student was staring at me as I worked. "What the hell?" I thought, "Sure it's a girl's school, but it's not like they don't see their fill of men when they feed. What's with the staring?"
Lucy, deceptive little mynx that she is, was doing far more than getting some fresh air. By the time she returned I saw a Chinese takeout bag under her arm. "Oh hey sure, don't, you know, tell me you're on lunch break or anything." She set one of the takeout boxes down in front of me with a set of chopsticks. "I was getting some for both of us, smartass. How have my little monkeys been?" She said the last part a little louder than the rest, peering around the room ash she did so. "What, the girls? Writing quietly. I finished the grading, too." She smiled and kissed my forehead. "Well good, it's lunchtime. Did I mention one of our feeders is out sick?" My ears perked up. "Yeah, he's at the hospital. The law forbids him to feed until they know for sure that it's nothing contagious. You'll be standing in for him today." My eyes widened. At that moment a bell rang and a sea of fluffy blonde and brunette heads roared past me into the hallway. "Where are they going? I thought they usually fed before lunch?" Lucy laughed. "What, all from you? You're welcome to try." With that she led me into a room at the end of the hallway in which I met nineteen other men lined up in a dark sub-hallway with holes in the right wall at about hip height. It took me a moment to work out what they were for, but I had to ask anyways. "What's the deal with all of this?"
A fit, french looking guy perhaps in his twenties reached out and shook my hand. "Welcome to the ranch, buddy. Parents aren't comfortable with natural feeding unless we never see or touch the girls. You know how crazy soccer moms get over this stuff lately, even when we're just tryin' to be useful." I heard a commotion on the other side of the wall, and suddenly a cacophony of voices demanding that we "stick 'em out!" Right on cue the line of other men unbuckled, unzipped and stuck their members through the holes. I followed suit, and found myself quite suddenly awash in pleasure. Whatever they were teaching these girls in feeding class was pure gold. A warm little mouth sucked and tugged at my cock on the other side of the wall, silently imploring me to let loose and fill it up. Her tongue slipped out and lapped at my balls before flicking the tip of my penis and massaging the entire head of my cock. I groaned. Frenchie looked at me and wagged a finger. "Shhh. Keep it professional." He was right, the mouth on the other side had stopped. I waited, erect penis throbbing in time with my pulse, until she resumed feeding.
Her tongue must've gotten tired because she began to focus on her lips, sealing them around my ridge and passing them rapidly over it. They were indescribably soft and the friction, however slight, was unbearable. Despite my best efforts I cried out a little as felt my penis spasm, releasing its payload. I heard a gasp on the other side of the wall. A musical young voice asked "Liv, what did you do? It's all over you!" Another unseen voice, presumably belonging to the girl who I'd just ejaculated on, replied "I wasn't ready. Eeew, some of it's in my hair. I have to go clean up." Frenchie was on the verge of laughter. I looked at him sternly. "Professional", I whispered. I withdrew from the hole and found a sink at the end of the sub-hallway to clean up in. On my way back I heard the strange combined sounds of twenty young girls slurping away at the penises of various men they couldn't even see and in their mind didn't really exist. The PTA wanted the men removed from the feeding process, and this was as close as they could get.
"Where are you going?" Frenchie took hold on my arm as I made for the door. "You're not done!" I stared at him. "What, there's more?" He guffawed, and pulled me back to the hole in the wall. "There are 240 students in this school, all female. You feed two, you rest in the break room, you feed two more. THEN you're done." Ho-o-oly shit. I spotted a minifridge I had somehow missed before near the middle of the tiny, dark hallway. No doubt filled with orange juice, milk, all the things we'd need to quickly regenerate sperm. Frenchie whispered to the guy next to him "Hey, I've got a fourth grader!" The guy next to him chuckled. "What, you can tell?" Frenchie returned with "Yeah. The size of the mouth, the technique, the stamina. It's an art, man." He scowled. "You sound like you're enjoying this too much." Frenchie's silence spoke volumes. I unzipped, and stuck my gopher back through the hole to see if it was Spring yet. Turns out, it was! Sure enough it was the fourth and fifth graders this time; the mouth on the other end was small enough that despite her best efforts I could feel teeth with every stroke. No matter, comes with the job. I eased up to the hole to give her more to work with and gave Frenchie a thumbs up.
She was pretty good and I was rock hard within a minute. I could tell her jaw was about as far open as she could manage; she stopped to rest it a few times, but soldiered on. Forgetting my role for a moment I whispered some words of enouragement through the wall. "You're doing great sweetie, keep at it." She stopped for a moment. "Hurry up and cum, mister! I'm really hungry!!" I replied with startled laughter. She knew what she wanted, and I guess I had no choice but to give it to her. I closed my eyes and imagined Emma. Blonde curls, budding breasts and slender thighs....it was a bad habit I had gotten into, and it seemed to get worse with every feeding. I pictured her puffy pink aereolas topped with a bright red nipple, like the cherry on a sundae. I pictured the workout shorts she was fond of wearing around the house slowly slipping off, riding over the curves of her firm, round little buns before falling down her legs. I felt my balls churning as I came to a crescendo, firing wave after wave of semen into the hot little mouth on the other side of the hole. I could hear her swallow and sigh contentedly. "Thanks mister. You did good, too!" she whispered, and I found myself blushing. Frenchie turned to me and slapped me on the back. "You know, for your first time you're doing the mash, you did THE MONSTER MASH! IT WAS A GRAVEYARD BASH!"