Post Op, Ergo Procter Op? - Sex Stories

Post Op, Ergo Procter Op?

... jerking furiously. In just a few moments, he came, and his semen filled her button like white wine into a cup. Eric hesitated for a moment, then dived down there and sucked up his own cum from her belly like a parched man sucking water.

‘Dude,’ he thought to himself when he was calm and the room was still again, ‘that is messed up!’

*

He practiced his craft carefully, and soon the boss was sending him every navel piercing that came through the door. It was like a dream come true. He could indulge his sexual love of the navel, and each night he carried memories of the ones he had seen and touched that day.

There was Marta, who wanted a ring in hers. She told him she had a boyfriend, and he imagined doing to Marta what he had imagined doing to Anna. Marta’s navel was a T shape.

There was Clara, whose navel was the embodiment of perfection to Eric. Clara’s was deep and a perfect circle.

There was Vega, who seemed ok when she arrived. But when she was in the chair and the operation was half done, she fell asleep. Only then did Eric smell the alcohol on her breath. Vega’s belly button was a rare shape, a kind of spiral.

There was Mariona, who came with her brother, who got his ears done. Mariona’s navel was lovely, a sort of crescent moon shape.

There was Julia, who told him she’d had kids. He looked at that navel and imagined her naked, lying back and her husband kissing every inch of her.

There were dozens of them. Hundreds, probably.

Eric ...

... gradually learned to do tattoos. Occasionally, he was asked to pierce a cock. That was when he used the blue rubber gloves.

But he never used them to pierce a woman’s belly. He’d wash his hands, sure. He’d disinfect with the wipe. But who in their right mind would deny themselves the physical touch of skin on skin on a woman’s most beautiful, sacred spot?...

*

He found himself counting the number of navels he had seen on any particular day, walking down the street, at work or on the beach. In an ironic twist, Eric grew to dislike pierced ones, for they concealed the essential beauty of the natural belly button. If it wasn’t for the fact that he got to see and touch so many, he would have quit. It was only a summer gig, anyway.

Some nights, he spent the night at Lily’s, or hosted her, and they made energetic love. But on the nights when he was alone, he closed his eyes, thought back on the navels he had seen that day and, with the aid of lubricant and sometimes a quick Instagram search, indulge in his fetish alone, shamelessly and so urgent with desire that he felt he must surely rip his very penis from his body.

*

The next time they met for sex, Eric went down on Lily. He flicked his tongue against her clitoris and ran it down the slit between her lips. He kissed every inch of her vagina and took time to work up her arousal. He did it to thank her for accepting his fetish and not judging him. She tasted so good between her legs. He breathed in her scent and felt to ...