There was no point him slapping his wanger on her cheek to make himself hard. She wasn’t going to start slobbering all over it. Even if she was, it would only be to tease him, not make him erupt. Even if she did make him erupt, it wouldn’t be going down her throat. If, in some bizarre scenario, it somehow did, she wouldn’t hold it in and digest it. Well… in truth, that last bit, and therefore all the other bits, might be wrong, but still, she wasn’t a slag. That was the important bit – she didn’t want to be made to feel like a slag. ‘The swallowing semen bit I can accept. Just don’t call me a slag,’ she thought as the spooge flowed and everyone began talking about what a slag she was.