The Side Effect
A marriage proposal at Fenway Park is a risky endeavor, especially if you have a silly aversion to going down on your girlfriend, like Zack does. Fortunately, his sister knows an unethical scientist who provides a medication with an unusual side effect. This bit of hocus-pocus gets Zack what he needs to get the ring on Lindsay’s finger—to learn to love giving head.
The look on Lindsay's face on the gigantic video board in the outfield said it all. She wasn't gonna say yes.
I was surprised. Shocked really. We'd been dating for a year and a half and living together for the last six months. She told me she loved me at least three times a day. Why wouldn't she say yes?
I was confident enough to spend ten grand and change on a heart-shaped diamond engagement ring and three hundred fifty dollars to make my proposal live on the big screen at Fenway Park. I was confident enough to call all my friends and family and all her friends and family to tell them to watch the Sox on Friday night. Hell, I was confident enough to plan an engagement picnic at my older sister's house in Springfield the week after the game. I invited everyone we knew.
Yeah. I was confident all right. And then I saw that look. Shocked? Dismayed? I didn't know what other people might call it. I just knew that face meant no.
I hardly even had the chance to ask the fucking question. I mean, the cameraman and the announcer positioned themselves right near us during the seventh inning, and next thing I knew, it was happening. The camera and microphone were in our faces, and then she saw the message on the scoreboard: Lindsay, I love you. Marry me. Zack.
I saw the scoreboard message, and all the grinning faces around us and turned to Lindsay, reaching into my pocket for the small, velvet box that held the three months' salary I planned to place on her finger. I opened my mouth to pop the question, straight into the big, foam-covered microphone, but before any sound escaped my lips, my gaze landed on the video board, the huge LCD screen used to bring directly to each seat the National Anthem, the Kiss Cam, instant replays, and the crowd favorite, live marriage proposals.
On the screen, my lips were puckered to form the w-sound. I was afraid they wouldn't give me enough time to say everything I wanted to say, so I skipped right to the heart of the matter, right to the big question. "W—" was frozen on my lips when I saw Lindsay's sad, embarrassed look on the screen. She might as well have shouted NO for as loudly as her face spoke, and I let the question die before it passed my lips.
There was a long moment before the Red Sox mascot, Wally, the Green Monster, leapt down the stairs and bounded onto the screen with his green, furry hand out, ready to make his congratulations. By then, tears had breached the rims of Lindsay's eyes and were running down her cheeks. Even the guy in the green fur could tell that they weren't tears of joy. He made a giant gesture with his arms, prompting all thirty-something thousand fans in attendance to sing a chorus of oh-no.
Finally, the announcer shook himself from his "I-have-no-idea-what-is-going-on" stupor, and he waved the cameraman out of our faces. He babbled into the microphone for a moment and then finally the singing started—Take Me Out to the Ball Game. I will feel sick every time I hear that song for the rest of my life.
While the rest of the fans stretched and sang, I sat and put my head in my hands. I still clutched the ring box, having not even opened it to give Lindsay a glimpse. She fled, I guessed to the bathroom, and left me to stew in agony, wondering where I went wrong. A lady in her sixties yelled out behind me, "I'll marry you, honey!" before I left my seat as well.
Sexcerpt (XXX if available):
"Lie back and spread your legs, babe," she said. She settled between my thighs and took my cock all the way into her mouth. Her tongue licked up and down my shaft while she sucked, alternating between deep suction and light pressure. I could tell she was going for efficiency; she quit teasing and got right to coaxing the cum out of my cock.
I groaned out loud. I wasn't going to last long under this kind of siege. "Oh, baby. You know how I like it," was all I could muster for words. She moved her tongue back up to the head and collected another tongueful of pre-cum. I guess that was part of the appeal of sucking cock for her. She liked the pre-cum. A lot.
She swirled it around her mouth for a minute and smiled. She does this thing where she kind of bites my cock with her lips stretched over her teeth. Each time she bites down, she gives a good, hard suck. Then she moves down about an inch and does it again and again until my cock is buried in her throat. Then she repeats it on the way out. She did this to me for a while, which pushed me right to the edge. She let me teeter like that for a minute, and then she went in for the kill.
She grabbed my balls and fucked me with her mouth until they tightened up, and the cum burst out into her mouth. She sucked it out, as if my cock were a big, fleshy straw.
And then she did my favorite thing, where she lets my cum sit in her mouth while she swirls her tongue around the head. Gently, because it's so sensitive.
I don't know how she can stand it, holding it in her mouth like that. I mean, I don't even like the smell of cum. I certainly can't imagine it swishing around her tongue like that.
I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it. I forgot about the cinnamon rolls and the bacon and focused on the way her tongue swished over my semi-soft dick. I forgot about the second cup of coffee I was craving and the diamond in its velvet box and the baseball game and . . .
And then I remembered the proposal. The motherfucking proposal that Lindsay had turned down.
I opened my eyes and met hers. She swallowed my cum and smiled.
Where the fuck was this going?
She crawled up my torso this time, and I had a surreal feeling of being taken, as if by an alien predator or something. My heart hadn't even returned to its normal rate after I came, and now it was picking up again.
She kept climbing until her hands reached the headboard and her knees were straddling my head. I looked up into her glistening, pink flesh, and I froze.
And then I started to hyperventilate.
Her smile melted from her face, and she put her face in her hands.
For some reason that I could never put my finger on, I could not eat pussy. Something about the smell or the taste that most men find so enticing, totally turned me off. "C'mon, Linds. Let me up. You know that's not my thing."
She didn't. She gave me a sad look and shook her head. "Does this answer your question?" she asked.
"What question?" I had no idea what she was talking about. She stared at me, letting it sink in for a minute.
It finally dawned on me. "This is why you won't marry me?"
She gave me a slight nod, climbed off me, and went downstairs.