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"You want to do what!?" "I want make you a cum milkshake."

I of course had known what he'd said. But he'd said it so plain, and so blatantly, that he couldn't possibly have meant it. But I was still just discovering more of his sense of humor (our time was spent having sex, not joking around), so I honestly couldn't tell if he was joking. But then, Thrad never joked about sex. Not that it had to be serious business all of the time. But honest and clear communication was the #1 Rule in his book. If anything sexual was to be discussed, it had to be utterly naked. Otherwise there could be room for interpretations, and misunderstandings, and somebody could end up hurt quite by accident. Thrad wouldn't hear of that, which made him the safest sexual partner I could have imagined. I couldn't explore half of the kinks I'd gotten into if it weren't for Thrad, and his open-and-clear communications policy. Which is to say that if Thrad said he wanted to make me a cum milkshake, he was basically guaranteed to mean it.

"Wh- Bu- H- Bu-" "We obviously don't have to, of course. I just thought it'd be fun." "Fun? That's the weirdest thing I've heard." "You drink my piss from time to time." Thrad pointed out.

I opened my mouth to object, but I was at a loss for words. Not because I was stuttering in a stunned disbelief, but because he was absolutely right. Over the course of our relationship we'd gotten further and further down several kinky rabbit holes. And using cum for its culinary properties (which was a thought I had never expected to cross my mind) really wasn't all that comparatively taboo. When it gets down to it, cum is a protein of sorts. And people eat protein. People don't exactly drink pee.

I didn't know at all what to say, so I said nothing. Thrad was waiting patiently for the gears in my head to turn, and no doubt they were quite visible on my brow. It was one part surprise directed at Thrad. If ever we explored new territory, it was usually because I brought it up. We began play with rope, which eventually led to bondage, because I had expressed curiosity. Watersports went the same way, as did erotic asphyxiation. But that last one was a pretty obvious one to leap to, given the size of his dick. We'd only invited a third sexual partner because I had expressed high interest in being spit roasted.

So it was atypical for Thrad to be the one to bring a new opportunity for sexual exploration to the table. And he'd sort of stopped being surprising to me of late, which wasn't at all meant to be a bad thing. But we'd gone through enough together, and enough growth, and had had many a sexual encounter. Our time together had become comfortable, which again, didn't have to be a bad thing. But, maybe we were running out of new, kinky things to do. Maybe he wanted to keep the sexual spark alive, and bring something new to the table, like we used to on a near monthly basis. Or, maybe he just had a thing for extracurricular cum play, and hadn't let on

That was about half of the puzzle my gears were churning away at. The rest of me was talking myself through my sexual inclinations. Namely, I was confirming the insatiable desire for sexual conquest within both my heart, and my dick. I was a bit of a depraved person, to say the absolute least. When I started to explore sex, I went at it hard. And I never stopped going at it hard. Every new thought became a new entry on a sexual list. Fisting? Check. Watersports? Check. Group sex, bondage, horse cock - check, check, check. And now the infuriating, ever dominating Thrad had made a new entry on that list. I had never_, ever,_ entertained the idea of eating a cum milkshake. I had never considered cum in any sort of culinary capacity. What you did with cum, was you wore it. You enjoyed it within you. You filmed a creampie with it, or you ate it, or it went straight down your throat and you ate it but didn't taste it, which was hot but to be honest was also a bit of a shame.

What you didn't do with cum was save it and cook with it. It wasn't a salad dressing. It wasn't some substitute for an egg. Rather, it was the thing which germinated an egg, so it was sort of like an egg - but that's beside the point. And while I was stupefied at the idea of cooking with cum (even at so basic a level as putting it into a milkshake), I was also stupefied that I'd never considered it before. I was a deeply sexual being, and I loved cum. It was the reward of a job well done. It was an exclusive fluid, available only in small amounts, and you had to work to obtain it through a curious biological process. If you're with another man, then you get double the cum, which was just altogether more efficient. But then, Thrad had a massive set a cojones, so his output easily doubled, or perhaps tripled my own output. And was I really considering all of the theories of cum production, and the places you could put it when you had it?

This is to say that I loved cock. A lot. And I loved cum, a lot. I loved its flavor, and I loved how a person's diet affected its taste. Nuts and fruit, yes please. But a diet of beer and pizza coming from a man who doesn't shower as often as he needs to? I'd pass on eating that cum, thank you very much. Feel free to place it anywhere else you'd like. And for how much I'd interacted with cum over the years, either my own or the cum of a partner, it was honestly surprising that I'd never considered cooking with it before. I was into watersports for christsake. That's doing something awfully strange with a common bodily fluid. Cooking with cum didn't have to be any more of a strange idea.

it's just, not an idea that I had ever had. Furthermore, I hated that I was so intrigued by it from the moment it had entered my mind. Did my appetite really know no bounds? There was now a gap in my history of sexual conquest. I had deepthroated a horse, who was mostly hard at least. I had great practice in taking a massive bovine's fist, and was working my way up to two. I wore a chastity cage often, and I wore a buttplug often as well. But you know what I hadn't done yet? Eat a milkshake which had cum in it. Presumably my bull's cum. Possibly my own.

Then I looked at Thrad, and I saw his face, and the way he was standing, and the way his proportionally small tail swayed all too casually. It made me angry, but also I desired him. He had me by the balls and he knew it. He wasn't making some sort of poker face, as though he wanted to take me to some new, depraved level, and was hoping that I'd take the bait. Instead he was just standing there, in a simple knowledge. I would accept his "offer" for a cum milkshake, he just had to wait for me to arrive at that conclusion. Then that thought put my gears into overdrive, and I reached the conclusion that much faster. It wasn't an offer for a cum milkshake, it was more of a command. That was because anything coming from Thrad was basically a command, but just because he was so sexually agreeable. He had good ideas, is all. He knew that I'd explore any sexual horizon he brought to my mind. That made his words a sort of inevitability. It made them a sort of command.

As ever, my submissive instincts kicked in. And then, even if Thrad wasn't commanding that I do this curious thing with his cum (or mine, for that matter, we hadn't discussed the specifics yet), the idea of being dominated and humiliated did me in. It could have been entirely in my head for all I knew. But being told what to do, and made to do some degrading thing, seriously got me off. And the idea that it was sexual territory most people would find completely disgusting got me off all the more. My fantasy said I was being made to do something horrible, practically against my will. When really, I loved cum, and the idea of having it in a milkshake was actually sort of agreeable. After all, I liked cum anyway, so what was the big deal? But my fantasy said otherwise. And then my submissive ass just couldn't say no.

"... fine. But you have to-" "I'm not going to have any." "How did you know?" "I know you, and I also know myself. I have no desire to eat a cum milkshake." "But you want me to." "Yes I do. It would be entertaining to me." "Entertaining? I'm so glad that I can entertain you." "I am too." He said simply, and happily.

He had a certain pride about him, which did me in even more. He was proud of his odd, bottom slut who knew no bounds. And then I wasn't curious about the idea of a cum milkshake, I desired it. Because I desired to be the bottom slut he was so proud of, and what a weird position in life I had put myself in.

Making him have some too was the only card that I had, and he'd countered it so easily. It had been a pitiful attempt, too. I knew he wouldn't have any, and if it was a bluff he had called on it right away, before I had even said the whole thing. It felt like I didn't want to be the only depraved slut in the room. And it would be nice to share in this sort of sexual voyeurism for a change. But I wasn't sure I even really wanted Thrad to have a taste of whatever it was he was going to make for me. I just wanted to come back at him with any sort of leverage. Sort of like, I'm doing to do this thing for you - but what are you going to do for me?

The answer to that was quite simple. In exchange for eating a cum milkshake, he was going to produce said milkshake. And he really did know how much of a slut I was. Just the idea of it was enough to fuel me. Eating cum in this taboo sort of way really was its own reward. And all at once I loved that part of myself, but I also bemoaned it. I wondered either what had become of me, or if I had been this person all along, and I had just been discovering it all this time. And Thrad was discovering it with me, and no matter what we explored, and what weird depths we went to together - he loved me all the more for it. And he'd love me for this too, and in a way he already did, because in a way I had already eaten the milkshake. We both knew I was going to. So performing the actual act was more like a formality than a sexual event. Of course, it would be a sexual event. The cum had to come from somewhere, after all. But the event was guaranteed at this point. So all we had to do was go through the steps.

"Fine." I said again. "But it has to be fresh." "Oh, yeah. No way I'd store cum in the fridge or whatever. That's gross." "But a cum milkshake isn't?" "I mean, sure it is. But you drink my pee, so this isn't any different." "Why are you so hung up on that?" "I just think it's hot. This would be hot as well." I didn't have an immediate response to that, so Thrad followed it up. "I enjoy when you do strange things with my fluids. The idea of you getting 'sustenance' from me gets me going. So actual sustenance is just taking it up a notch."

Were we seriously having a conversation about the logistics of me eating a cum milkshake?

"That's fair." I said. "But how will you handle the ratios?" "The ratios?" Thrad was clearly incredulous. "How are you worried about the ratios?" "If we're doing this, I just want to make sure we do it right." "Well, do you want a milkshake with cum in it, or a cum flavored milkshake? I can't make that much cum." "You could make a small milkshake." I pointed out. "I just wanted to put cum into a milkshake. I didn't expect to have to deal with icecream-to-cum ratios." "And that's fair too. But if we are doing it, I want the flavor." "The flavor of cum?" "Sure. Otherwise you're robbing me of my favorite part." "I cum in your ass all the time. You don't get to taste it then." "Well, I don't want a milkshake right now, so if we don't do it right then no milkshake." "You're bluffing." "Nope." I said easily. And it wasn't a lie, either.

I honestly wasn't in the mood for a milkshake. I wasn't all that hungry, and it had been sort of a cold day. Fall was coming in heavy. The town, or rather, the trendy people in it were firmly in beanie-and-scarf territory. It's the same effect as when you don't always want a hot drink on a hot summer day. Right now I didn't particularly care for a cold drink. And a milkshake was just about as cold as it got.

"Alright, fine." Thrad finally said. "We could use mine too?" "You don't make all that much, no offense. And I should make enough, I think. I haven't cum all week." "Really? I thought you jacked off all the time." "I usually do. Thinking about your sexy ass gets me horny. I just wanted to save it up this time." "So you knew you wanted to do this." "Of course I did. I wouldn't just spring something like this on you, I wanted to make sure it was right." "There's nothing right about-" But I cut myself off. He was right, in a way. It did feel right. As absolutely odd as that was. Thrad just raised his eyebrows in partial surprise, and firm knowledge. He really did know that he had me by the balls on this one.

"So you'll do it?" "... yes." "And you want it?" "Yes." "Then make me cum." "How?" "Probably go down on me, and we'll go from there." "No, like, into a glass? How do you want to do this?" "Maybe take it in your mouth, and spit it into a blender?" "I can't always take all your cum in my mouth. Especially if you've been storing it up, I'd probably spill some." "I probably won't cum as much if I don't finish in your mouth." "Probably it has to go into a cup, or maybe the blender itself?" "I'm not putting my dick anywhere near the blender, there's a blade in that thing." "Oh, right. Duh. Then you've got to cum into a glass." "Alright then, you're the expert." "I'm not the expert in cum milkshakes, Thrad." "But you're the cum expert."

That shut me up, because it was absolutely true. But part of me was still hung up on the ratio thing. I wasn't sure just one person's cum would be enough, even if it was Thrad we were talking about. Then I realized my absolute absurdity. And not just that, but the entire situation was absurd. Probably it was the most absurd situation I'd been in, and I had done some awfully absurd things. What did the ratios fucking matter? It was a cum milkshake. Just, make a milkshake, and cum into it. Else, cum first, then build a milkshake around it. Why was I making this so complicated?

"Alright." I said. "Well, go get a glass." "Really?" "Yeah, really. I want to get this over with. I didn't mean it like that. Just, enough talking about it, I want to do it." "Really?" Thrad said, again. "Yes, really. Why?" "I just, didn't think you'd actually do it, is all." "How could you possibly- I mean, that's fair. It is strange, like you said. But you're the one who brought it up. So let's do the thing." "Right." Thrad said. Then he got up to get a glass, which left me some time to think about my new reality.

This really was my station in life, it seemed like. I was a small, thin, twink-ish tabby. And I was sexually depraved, and probably a little crazy as well. I couldn't imagine anybody else in the world who would actually drink a milkshake with cum in it, let alone be excited about it. I wondered briefly if there was something wrong with me, or if Thrad was taking advantage of me. Like maybe I was just dick-whipped, and if it weren't for Thrad then-

But that thought was absurd. It was patently absurd. My life had gotten better on every count since Thrad became part of it. My sexual development would no doubt have taken this sort of depraved route without Thrad, he just sped it along. And we loved each other, which was its own, separate thing. And he'd never take advantage of me, and there was no way I felt this way only because he had sex with me. I was utterly secure with Thrad, and that's what enabled us to go to such weird lengths with each other. It didn't go the other way around. We didn't have the sex first, and then I felt secure. Although, that is the order in which events happened. But there was a turning point somewhere along the line, which was evident in how much our sexual exploration stalled when we first started falling for each other. Then it bounded back with a vengeance after we hashed our feelings out. Because our love for each other made us both more safe, and gave us more liberty to do more things with each other, and to each other.

But now I had found out that that element of safety apparently extended all the way to milkshakes made with cum in them. And in a way that almost felt like a natural length to go to. Granted, I wasn't completely into the idea at first (although I did reach that point fairly quickly). But Thrad was into it, and I was more than happy to meet him at that level. I wanted to satisfy him, and honestly I didn't mind. I did love cum, after all. So again, what was so bad about putting it in things which weren't me? Then Thrad came back into the room, and I was so surprised at his demeanor. My bull was excited, just, actually excited. He looked almost like a kid who was getting a treat at the grocery store he hadn't expected to actually get. And he looked like he was trying not to say anything more, in case he messed it up, and didn't get his treat after all.

I wasn't sure I had ever seen him like this. He really did have a thing for cum play, and somehow hadn't felt comfortable expressing that until now. And here I was thinking that there were no more secrets between us. But then, it really wasn't all that surprising that he'd kept this one under lock down. For all I knew, I was the only person in the world who would be into something like this. But seeing Thrad be so excited about it made me all the more into it. He was already enjoying the hell out of this. So immediately any reservations or thoughts of weirdness flew out the window. My partner was genuinely, honestly excited about something we were doing together. And what could be more natural than that?

I took the glass from him and got on my knees.

"Take my head and fuck me after I've warmed you up." I said. "I know when you're about to cum, so I'll be ready for it. Pull me off your cock, then I'll take hold and put your head to the glass. Sound good?"

Thrad just nodded excitedly and set his hands on my head, but not applying pressure just yet. His smile made me smile, and I vowed to give him one of the best blowjobs I'd ever given. Not that that meant very much - I like to think that all of my blowjobs were top tier. And this one wouldn't be any different. Except, I expected him to cum pretty quickly. At least, I knew that I always did when there was a new sexual element at play. Especially if it was one I had been thinking about for a long time. For instance, the first time I brought my chastity cage I came so easily, and I didn't stop cumming for the entire night. And Thrad looked like he was finally getting this sexual niche of his fulfilled. So I expected him to cum pretty fast.

I just, had no way of knowing how fast he'd be. I unzipped him and pulled his cock through this time. Usually when I gave head I undid his jeans entirely. But this time the still-clothed aesthetic pleased me. We were about to do something incredibly taboo, and more than just a little weird. So pairing that with a somewhat innocent start helped round out the whole affair. He was going to cum with his pants still on, real casual like. Then he was going to make a milkshake with it, apparently, and I was going to drink it. If what we were doing was already weird, then why not take it go-for-broke?

One of Thrad's mainstays was that he took some time to get hard. Maybe it was because of his age, but it also helped with his longevity. With Thrad there was usually a bit of a slow build up, but when he got going he could fuck for ages. But not now. I could tell he was at least half-chub when I got to my knees. His bulge was already a challenge not to notice, but his cock had been making a clear outline this time. If he was any more hard I wouldn't have been able to worm his cock through his fly at all. And once his cock was free it was practically entirely hard in an instant.

In spite of myself my eyes sort of bugged out in surprise. I wasn't sure I could deepthroat him now, not without warming up first. And I wasn't in any position to try. The last thing we needed when exploring a new kink of his was to bruise my throat and ruin the experience. So I gave him that clear signal by using both hands on the base of his cock to stop him from going too deep. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed by that, because then my mouth was on his cock. Then our night of new horizons had begun.

Right away he got to controlling the motions. Ordinarily I started the blowjob, I controlled the cadence, and I was the one who worked him up to full-mast. But he was already at full-mast, and he was already built up. So it caught me by surprise when he started to fuck my face with a certain degree of vigor. Right away he started to thrust into my mouth with as much force as he could. I felt like if I moved away even one of my hands for a second then he'd ram against my throat which would defeat the purpose of having my hands there in the first place. So I couldn't signal for him to take it easy with a double tap like we normally did. So regretfully I had to push my head off of him, which was no small feat. I put pressure against his hands on the back of my head, which by now had a firm grip on me. I had to legitimately struggle against him for a moment before he let up. But that wasn't exactly a fair way to put it. There was a level of struggle which was understood between us, and was fine. He definitely knew when I wasn't actually trying, and I knew it too. But he knew when I was putting everything I had into getting out of his grasp, at which point he let up on me right away. Then I took a deep breath, not because my air supply was low or anything. I just had to recover from his unexpected intensity.

"A little more slow." I said. "Sorry." "No, it's fine. You're excited, I get it. Just, go slower?" "Okay, I can do that."

Then I took his dick in my mouth again, and right away he was more respectful of my mouth. Then I was able to do some of my moves on his shaft and head as he pushed in and out. I flicked my tongue against his shaft. When he pulled his hips back and it was just his head in my mouth, I flicked my tongue at his urethra. And he was giving me just enough leeway inside of his iron grip that I could angle my head slightly. Usually I kept him at a straight shot, just thrusting into my mouth like we always did. But sometimes I moved just enough that his head would rub against the top of my mouth, giving him pleasure and sensation in a different way. And when I did that move I pressed my tongue up against his dick as hard as I could. I knew the effect it had on him was tremendous. I knew it from past experience, sure. But even without those past experiences, I could tell just from his reactions to it now. He had promised to start off slower, which he did. But it wasn't long at all before his thrusting had picked up vigor again. And his iron grip on my head tightened. And soon we were right back where we started.

But this time I was prepared for it, so I could handle it much more readily. Apparently I could handle it much better than Thrad could, because soon he was panting, then grunting, then beginning to growl. His growl started to turn into a roar, and for one of a precious few times in our history together, he interrupted those vocalizations with words.

"I'm about to cum." He said. He had to strain to say it. In a way it sounded almost like when someone tries to talk through a burp. His voice was distorted, but in a sexual way and not a gross one. Then I got my glass ready, and he started to roar again. Then he jerked my head off of his cock, and I had milliseconds to react.

When he pulled my head off he released me from his grip. I still had one hand on the base of his cock, so I slid it up towards his head in a quick motion. His shaft was pretty slick with my spit, so my hand almost slid off him entirely. The effect was that I accidentally worked his head the very moment he pulled me off his cock, and I knew his climax was near. I only just directed his cock to the glass in time before he started to erupt.

I always loved the way cum shot out of a throbbing dick. And I enjoyed handjobs because I could feel those pulses more distinctly. Sure you could feel a throbbing dick in your ass. And it was easy to feel when the cock was buried in your throat, just because any cock that deep was sort of jammed in there by necessity. But having a throbbing dick in your hand felt far more precise. Not only did I feel him throb, but it felt like I could feel the ropes of cum themselves as they forced through his shaft, and through my hand which was holding it in place. And I was mesmerized as his cum painted the inside of the glass.

I rarely got such a closeup of a cumming cock. Almost always his cum ended up inside me in one way or another. And in the instances when I wanted to wear his cum (or when he wanted to make me wear it), my eyes were usually closed so cum didn't get in my eyes. Not that I always closed them in time, but the point was that I never exactly got to see his throbbing, cumming cock in action. And soon the glass was painted enough that I couldn't exactly see it anyway. But I saw those first few ropes as clear as day.

He certainly had been saving himself up. I had never seen such forceful deposits of anything before. It looked like those cartoons of some person milking a cow, how spurts of milk would shoot out into a pail beneath the utters. And the milk never dribbled out, and it never came out slowly. Each time the cartoon character pulled on an utter there would be a jetstream of milk. It was a distracting analogy, but even at the time that's where my mind went. Each rope of cum seemed to last forever. It seemed like I really could fill a pail with how much cum was shooting out. And the way his head expanded as the cum shot out mesmerized me.

Not only were his ropes of cum fast, and forceful - they were thick as well. We had started to explore sounding a while back, and I had never considered that cum (or at least, his cum) looked just about as thick as a small sounding rod might. His urethra had to visibly expand to let out the jetstream of cum. Else the cum forced his urethra to expand. And it forced his head to throb against the glass, and his shaft to throb in my hand. Then the glass was painted too much for me to watch any more. And I was still afraid that the glass would overflow, and maybe I'd have to catch some in my mouth all the same. But then his grunts faded, and his cock throbbed with a little less force. I knew well when he was done cumming, so I worked his shaft with his cock head still pressed against the glass. I milked the remaining cum from his length, and I wiped his head against the edge of the glass. I knew that we would need every drop of cum he had, and I didn't want to spill any at all.

Then I removed the glass to see what our handiwork had brought. The glass looked easily half full, which seemed utterly improbable to me. People didn't cum that much. Cum was over glorified, and sluts across the world over glorified it, and god knows every story online over glorified it. Sure, certain videos online made it look like dudes were shooting massive loads. But even then, I bet that if you collected those loads into a glass, they'd fill maybe a quarter at most. And sure, even that much was more cum than I tended to produce on an average day. But if I was properly worked up and being fucked in the ass, I could cum as much as the rest of them, maybe even more. But that was on a good day. For me. But today was a good day for Thrad. And that meant we had collected a shit-ton of cum.

And then I sighed. Looking at it now, and looking at the copious amount - I had a deep desire to drink it. It smelled intoxicating, same as Thrad's sex always did. And it was thick, almost like a milkshake itself. And I wanted the texture in my mouth, and I wanted to swirl my tongue in its flavor. I always did have a penchant for cum, this was no secret at all. And seeing such an amount collected right before my eyes was nearly too much. There were videos online, and god knows there were comics and stories galore. I wanted to be among their ranks. I wanted to drink cum, not directly from the tap, but from the glass. It sounded sexy to me, and the thought of wasting it on a stupid endeavor made me sad. I didn't want to drink a cum milkshake. I just wanted the cum.

But this was Thrad's experience, not mine. If I wanted him to cum in a glass later on, he'd be happy to acquiesce. Just like how I was happy to acquiesce now. So I looked up at him proudly, and brandished the glass of his cum. He took a moment to respect how much he had produced, then he just patted me on the head and walked out in an excited haste. His step really did have a sort of jovial spring to it. Now he looked like a kid who had gotten that treat from the grocery store after all, and he was practically skipping his way out to mom's car.

I smiled both inwardly and outwardly. It seemed like such a silly thing to me, and a fairly innocent one. If something like cumming into a glass to make a sexy milkshake for his boyfriend could make Thrad happy, then by all rights he should get to it. It was the least I could do, and his excitement was contagious. I had been sad to hand over a glass filled with so much fresh cum. It had been drinkable, and it was warm in my hand, and it promised to be delicious. But now I was even more excited to drink whatever milkshake it was that Thrad would produce. Not because the milkshake itself sounded sexy to me. In my book it was still a tremendous waste of something precious. But Thrad was excited about it, and that made me excited for it as well.

Then I realized I was still on my knees, for no reason in particular. I also noticed that I was completely hard in my jeans, which had somehow escaped my notice. Then I was touching myself, teasing the length of my shaft which was pressed awkwardly against my clothes. I teased a claw against my urethra, careful not to tug too tightly to avoid ripping my pants. I had gone through a few pairs of jeans that way, and while I was on my own they were pricey to replace. But as we grew closer Thrad had gotten a bit more liberal with his wallet, so clothes had stopped being much of a financial concern for me. So I started to press a bit more firmly against my shaft, and started to focus a bit more on my head. Then my other hand was taking turns teasing at my nipples, and I was close to cumming - then I remembered where I was. I was still kneeling on my bull's floor, which I only did when his cock was in the immediate vicinity. But his cock was nowhere near, and I wanted to go keep Thrad some company. Plus I was worried that if I came then I'd lose some of my horny vigor, and I would lose interest in the ultimate goal of our labors. I remembered that I was excited to drink Thrad's concoction, and I was excited that he was excited for it. I wouldn't ruin that for the world.

So I resigned to ruin my own orgasm, and stood to go follow my bull. My cock still pressed against my jeans, still begging for release. It made a clear outline against how tight my pants always were. To me that added yet an additional layer to my sluthood, and I wore both my tight jeans, and the outline of my cock within them, as a badge of pride. Then I was in Thrad's kitchen. And his bovine tail swayed happily behind him, and I almost laughed in both surprise and delight. I had never seen him like this, not in all our time together. We were coming on two years now, and somehow I had never seen such childlike wonder in him. How long had he held on to this fantasy of his?

"How's it coming?" I asked. "Don't look, it's a secret." He didn't look back as he said it. His entire focus was on his craft. "Oh, okay. I'll uh, be in the living room?" "That's good. I'll be there soon."

It seemed like it would be soon. The blender was blocked by his massive form, but I could see the ingredients on the counter to his side. Everything was laid out, including the ice cream carton which was open, and the glass which used to hold cum, which was now empty. But I didn't want to pry because if Thrad wanted the milkshake to be a surprise, then I'd let him have that. So I sat on our couch with its many punctures and played on my phone. Soon I settled on browsing porn, as I so often did, and teased at myself while I waited. I wanted to stay good and horny, which wasn't ever much of a problem for me. I ended up edging myself a few times, although I knew that not much time had passed. I heard the blender go off a few times, then I heard (and felt) Thrad's heavy footsteps. And then, before I knew it, the fabled milkshake was in my hands.

Thrad didn't sit. He just stood next to me on the couch. In another setting he would have looked imposing. The elements were all there for that. He was tall and broad, and made of muscles. If ever the sun was too bright he could made shade for me as though he were a building, or a tree. And I was small, and slight, and powerless against him. He really should have been imposing to me, no matter the circumstances. But everything about his stance just seemed excited. His expression was particularly excited, as this was the moment of truth. However long he had entertained this fantasy of his, it was about to come true. His boyfriend was about to eat his cum, which was mixed with ice cream, and presumably some milk, and whatever else he had deemed necessary for the perfect mixture of texture and flavor.

I sort of nodded my head, raised an eyebrow, and raised the glass like making a toast. Bottoms up, my expression said. And then I took a sip. Then I cocked my head curiously as I swirled the milkshake within my mouth. I swallowed, took another tentative sip, then I took a large one.

The flavor was definitely there. As was the ultimate fantasy of doing something extremely weird with a glass largely full of bovine cum. The texture was a little funny, and while the taste of cum was laced into the milkshake, it didn't exactly blend with whatever else was going on. This wasn't to say it was disgusting. It was just, fine. If this was a restaurant, I'd have been disappointed. Any given milkshake at a fast food joint would have been preferred. But then, I'm not sure what I expected. But throughout our short journey together in making this moment happen, I had built this milkshake up in my mind. I had expected something sexy, and amazing and horny and delicious, just like cum was delicious. Especially Thrad's cum, there was just something about it. Maybe I preferred it just because it was him. But he worked out, and took care of his body, and he rarely ate anything greasy or fried. That's why I loved his cum so much. But I didn't love his cum milkshake. To be honest, it was a little disgusting.

I tried to mask that fact by drinking more of it. I might have had an expression of distaste, and I drank it quickly as though to actually get it over with. But I tried to drink it too fast, and I got brain freeze. I recoiled, and Thrad could tell there was something off about the moment. And when I came to, I couldn't handle the disappointment on his face.

"You don't like it." He said. No doubt he didn't realize how heartbroken he sounded. "It's not that." I said, still fighting the final throes of brain freeze. "Then what is it?" "It's just. Uh-" I tried not to say what I wanted to say. "You don't have to drink it." "No, I want to. It's just-" "Just what?" He asked.

Again, I tried not to say what was on my mind. But he was waiting, and I had to say something, and I didn't hate his milkshake. It had serious potential, and the idea was completely sexy to me. It's just that the execution was a little poor. But I knew that it was salvageable. And I didn't want to say it, but I had to, and-

"It's the ratios." I said, utterly lamely. I spoke the words flatly. To me they signaled defeat. "Still?" He asked. He ears were folded down and back, in a mixture of shame and guilt. He looked for all the world like a kid who had accidentally let down someone he looked up to, and for all I knew that's exactly how he felt. "No, not like that. It's good! It's just-" "You don't have to lie." "No. Come on, I'll-" "It's fine. We can-" "Will you let me talk? Come on, I'll show you what I mean."

Without waiting for a response I stood against the wall of a bull before me. This time I felt like the imposing one, because now I had a mission. I could save not just the milkshake, with its odd combination of flavors and textures. But I could save Thrad's fantasy. With that, I could save the entire night.

I took his hand, led him into his kitchen, and looked at what I had to work with. Everything was still on the counter, and he had kept the milkshake pretty basic, as I thought he had done. I took another exploratory sip, and swirled the okay flavors around my mouth. He had taken what I had said to heart, but he took it to the extreme. He had made a small milkshake, alright. If I had to guess it was maybe half cum. It didn't look like he had put milk in it, which was normally the base to help break the thick ice cream down. That meant cum was the only liquid. And if it was half cum, and half ice cream, it wasn't all that surprising that the result was a little flat.

I took another sip, and considered its flavors carefully as I started going though basically his entire kitchen. I knew it well at this point. He had made me plentiful breakfasts over our time together, which now included multiple nights a week opposed to just the one we'd started out with. And I had cooked for him too, and he was always appreciative of what I'd make for us. Sometimes he was even a little surprised, although he tried not to show it. Apparently he didn't expect his sex crazed, youthful boyfriend to know how to cook. And I didn't necessarily, for the most part. But sauteing sautéing vegetables wasn't exactly hard, and when you let flavors mingle together in a pot or a pan, the ingredients tended to do the rest.

In that respect, a cum milkshake really wasn't all that different. Cum had a flavor and a texture, same as anything did. The goal was to balance it out with a set of complimentary ingredients. Cum was a mixture of viscous and watery. Setting it all together in a glass like we had mixed a decent bit of precum along with semen proper, though no doubt much of the precum was lost when he was fucking my mouth. But then, since he had cum so quickly a lot was probably still stored up. No doubt that's how he was able to fill to glass over half-way.

So it was both watery and thick, probably a bit more on the thick side, and ice cream was definitely thick, if not a solid. Blending it all together broke the ice cream down, which mixed the semen in quite well. But the effect might have been more like using cream to make a milkshake, and it was called a _milk_shake, not a _cream_shake. It wasn't until I brought the milk from his fridge that I attributed the lack of milk to the milkshake's odd texture. A big part of the problem was it was too thick. And while cum was plenty tasty on its own, its flavor profile really didn't lend itself to a half ice cream mix. Ice cream was sweet, and cum could be sweet, so you had to balance that out. Not only with milk to fix its texture, but possibly with something else as well.

It made me wish I had tasted his cum on its own first, just to get a true sense of how it needed to be mixed in. So instead I took another sip of the milkshake, and appreciated its flavor and texture, and then had some icecream on its own. If those were the two principle ingredients, or indeed the only ingredients, then this would help me figure out what exactly I had to do.

"Are these all you put in it?" I asked after I'd appreciated the ice cream on its own. "Uh, Silver?" "Are these the only two things you put in it?" "Uh, yeah, I guess."

I held back a really snappy response. I wanted to ask him if he guessed, or if he knew. But I caught myself just in time. What was I, some Gordon Ramsay of milkshakes? Was I really going to roast my boyfriend's balls over a sexy, kinky drink? Instead I busied myself in the work, and kept rummaging around trying to see what I could work with. But in the back of my mind I could tell something was going on with me. I had a certain fervor in my search. I was caring an awful lot about making this milkshake exactly right. In reality, it was fine. It was what it needed to be. It wasn't culinary, it wasn't supposed to be. It was kinky, and that should have been it. It was part of sex play. So why was I getting so hung up on it?

I pushed that thought away and kept rummaging. Milk for the consistency. I had to guess that the cum had been a little sweet, and the ice cream was certainly sweet, so maybe something to balance that out. Something bitter. Cocoa powder? Chocolate semen milkshake? That went out the window immediately. There had to be another way. Then I changed tactic, because I at least had somewhere to start, which would bring the concoction closer to where it needed to be. I dumped the rest of what I had back into the blender. Thankfully it wasn't entirely empty. Thrad had done the best he could to empty it all, but there was still come cum milkshake in it. And with what I had drank so far I needed as much of the base as I could, lest I lose the cum flavor amid anything else I added to it.

Then I splashed just a tiny bit of milk into the glass and swirled it around to get any remaining milkshake from it, and poured that into the blender as well. I started it up, tasted it, and it could use some more milk. Then a splash later it was the consistency we needed, but there was something else. It was sweet, and maybe a tiny bit nutty. What could balance that out? Cinnamon was certainly bitter, and it was dry which would do well. But the flavor would be all wrong. Then it hit me that nutmeg would go great. And if you added nutmeg than you simply had to do cloves as well.

"Silver?" Thrad asked again. But I only partially heard him. I was rummaging through his spices. I felt electric, maybe even manic. In either case I was far more excited than the situation warranted. But it had been a long time since I'd done something like this. Taking an okay dish and bringing it closer to center was a game I always used to play with my mom, and-

That thought stopped me cold in my tracks. My mom.

My breath caught in my lungs, and I froze. My hand was in Thrad's spice cabinet, and it froze. My ears had been rotating wildly, and they froze. Similarly, my tail had been swishing and flicking wildly behind me, and it froze in mid air. This was a game I used to play with my mom, lord knows how long ago that was.

I hated when thoughts of my family intersected with the time I spent with Thrad. But it happened without apparent rhyme or reason, and I certainly couldn't control when it would strike. There was nothing for it but to feel it, because that's how all emotions are. Even if they were inconveniently timed. And right now it frustrated me at least as much as it concerned me. All I was trying to do was drink my boyfriend's kink. How did it end up like this?

I tried to move from my spot, but I couldn't move a muscle. By now I had a family with Thrad, which had been an ultimate blessing to my life. He helped remind me of the confidence I had had as a kid. That confidence helped me bridge a relationship with my roommate, which helped me gain a friend. And I was becoming friends with his friends, which gave me a home life as well as a family life with my bull. But I increasingly knew that this all came with the attempt to erase, or maybe replace, the family I had grown up with. My actual family, if that wasn't too damaging a way to put it.

How had things ended up like this? Not tonight in specific. I could easily have wondered how I'd ended up trying to doctor a cum milkshake into a more desirable state, or even a delicious one. But that would be missing the point entirely. It wasn't this moment which was amiss. It was my life which was amiss, or at least a part of it was.

I knew it was one of those inconvenient facts of life I'd been trying to write away. I had been displaced from my parent's home, and I was hurt by that. But that wasn't fair to say and I knew it. I had displaced myself. I'd been projecting all this time, just like I'd projected a certain distance from my roommate not so long ago. It was me who was distant. It was me who didn't want to get close to others. It's why my first rule had been not to get attached, and it's why my relationship with Thrad had gotten rocky when we started falling for each other. For some reason I had baggage about having people close in my life. And I tried to suppress it as hard as I could. Sometimes it was a conscious effort, during times like this and so many others. But when I tried to push the thought away now I couldn't make headway with it at all. Something was bothering me, alright. And it was big. And I wasn't able to handle it on my own.

Thrad came to me then. He must have known something was wrong. That's why he had tried to get my attention a few times during my fervor. He didn't say anything because he didn't have to. He put his arm around me and then I could move. I fell back into his embrace, where I knew I was safe. Not that I wasn't safe anyway. I didn't live a dangerous life. By all rights it was a perfectly comfortable one, and I had so much going for me. I had friends now, and I lived in an apartment instead of just a room. I still worked only as much as I had to to fuel my life style, and that life included a bull who I'd met on Howlr. A bull who loved me more than anything, and a bull who I loved back.

But I couldn't keep ignoring that I needed safety in other ways. In so many ways it was like Thrad cared about me more than I did. And I certainly didn't need safety or security against the world. What I really needed was safety and security against myself.