Luke Miller

Stigmata

I love my wife, there’s no doubt about that, but I have one complaint about her. I‘ll get to it in a minute. But first, I want to say that I have an issue with monogamy. Marriage is a method used by society to tame the wild beast, in other words, men, because let’s face it. Men are animals, better yet, pigs.

Now back to that one complaint about my wife. It’s not that big of a problem, but it’s at the root of my current situation. I need to get personal here, and some might say a little vulgar, so be warned. It’s about our sex life. 

Sex between us has always been good but she just can’t give a good blow job no matter how I try to explain how to do it.  She got pissed off once and asked me what made me such an expert. Did I give head and get complimented for it? No way, I’ve always been on the receiving end, and not from any guys. Not my thing. I asked her once if my not being circumcised bothered her. She said, no. 

My sexual experience goes back to my teenage years, around sixteen or so. I used to hang around with the wife of my parent’s tenant, Elaine. She had a thing for me. It started innocently enough one night while we watched TV together. She was bored, her kids were asleep, and her husband was at work.  

As we sat on her couch watching TV. I felt her hand going up my leg which eventually stopped on my crouch. You can imagine the rest. An experienced older woman, a testosterone-filled teenager, and no one to interfere. It was my first experience receiving oral sex and the best. Since then, any subsequent blow jobs are compared to that first one.  

Growing up, getting good oral sex became a requirement for any woman who wanted to date me. If I found her lacking in that department, I would move on. But then I fell in love with my wife even though she sucked, excuse the pun.   

I tolerated it since I did love her but if you remember, I said all men are animals. Pigs. And I have this issue with monogamy. Why is it that we’ve been programmed to accept one spouse? Even in the Bible, in the Old Testament, men had multiple wives or concubines. Nowadays, at least in the West, we’re restricted to one wife, and we need to keep any infidelity a secret. What’s wrong with a little extramarital sex on occasion? Especially if it makes you feel good. This way, you’re happy, you’re nice to the wife, and she’s happy.  

Veronica was a Caribbean hooker I knew, but she didn’t work the street. She had a reputation built on word of mouth (I crack myself up sometimes) and worked mostly out of her apartment. 

We met about five years after I got married. I’d been sucked off by lots of women up to that point but once Veronica got her hot lips around my pecker, I stopped looking for it from anyone else and forgot about my first one from Elaine.  I knew I wasn’t the only one Veronica had sex with, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I was gonna marry her. 

Things were going well for some time, until one summer night we took a ride to the beach. There were other cars in the parking lot, all of them there for the same thing.    

I had my pants pulled down, with Veronica giving me head. I could smell the ocean as I looked out the open window and stared at the stars.  

In another two minutes, she would have been finished. We’d be back on the road, me taking her home, then finding the wife, everybody happy. But no, we heard the screeching of the car wheels approaching us but I figured it would pass. So did Veronica, because she didn’t stop what she was doing, she just slowed down. If only she had raised her head to listen to which direction the noise came from or to look around, show a little concern that we might get hit. Nothing. I could see the other car coming at us, slowing down, and swerving, but I knew it would hit us. 

I pulled on Veronica’s hair to get her off me, and I almost had my cock out of her mouth when the car hit us. She instinctively clenched her teeth, and I screamed like a banshee.   

***

The doctor wore gloves, who wouldn’t? He peeled back my foreskin and examined the wound. Lucky for me he said she didn’t bite down completely. It could have been worse. Veronica’s teeth scraped their way across the head of my cock, leaving the upper layer of skin peeled off. The head of my dick was crimson read, and very sore. Luckily, since I wasn’t circumcised, the foreskin offered some protection from my shorts.  

The wound would leave a scar. That’s what the doctor told me, but being a determined SOB, I tried a dermatologist and several ointments. Nothing worked. It got better, it didn’t look as sore, but you could see the difference in the color of the head of my dick. 

To make matters worse, the scar put a real damper on my sex life. At first, Veronica kept me as a client, but after any kind of sex, fucking, or getting a much-loved blow job, the head of my cock grew crimson red again, and little streams of blood oozed from my skin. Veronica didn’t take kindly to this and became reluctant to see me. 

This devastated me. I tried being chaste for weeks, waiting until my nuts swelled up and I had no choice but to take matters into my own hands. The results were the same, no matter how gentle or careful I was, or how quickly I came. 

I started feeling stressed out and ended up seeing a shrink, who prescribed anti-depressants. If you know anything about this type of drug, they turned me into a eunuch. My dick never got hard, no matter how much I tried, and the more I tried, the worse the head of my cock got. 

Veronica called one day to check on me. She said she’d been thinking of me. I guess out of pity. Anyway, I told her my problem and she suggested I stay off my meds for a week or two and then she would see me. Veronica always treated me with kindness. So did I, I mean I paid her price, and always tipped well. I figured it was worth a try. 

I did as she said.  After two weeks off my meds and keeping my hands off my pecker, I felt my balls aching for relief. And one evening, I went to her house. She made me comfortable and then very gently, opened my pants and worked on my cock. To my relief, I got nice and hard. She stopped for a second and looked at the head of my cock. Veronica’s eyes opened wide, her mouth dropped and she let go of my cock. Then she grabbed it again and stared at the head. 

She sat back, trying to speak. When she finally did, she claimed the face of Jesus was on the head of my cock. You can imagine my reaction. I said “get the fuck outa here.” I looked at it closely, I couldn’t see anything. Veronica said I needed to see it from her angle so she went and got a mirror. After some manipulating, I had the same view as she did, and sure enough, there He was, right on the head of my penis. 

Veronica thought it was a miracle, some kind of sign, and refused to give me the blow job she had promised. I got annoyed but after I doubled her price, she agreed. 

As soon as I came, we both looked at my penis to see if He was still there. The head of my cock was beet red by now, and two little beads of blood appeared. Wouldn’t you know it; they were right where Jesus’ eyes were. This freaked her out and she asked me to leave and never come back. I left, not knowing what to do next. It kinda got to me also. I went home, showered, and went to bed. I used a mirror and took a peek at my cock. Jesus was still there, along with the beads of blood.

I thought Veronica had seen enough and I would never hear from her again, but she called me about a week or so later. She said she’d told her hooker friends what she’d seen and they all wanted to see it. Veronica’s friends were like her. In addition to being hookers, they all dabbled in, I’m not sure about this, voodoo, or maybe Santeria. One of those island religions. All of them had these little shrines in their houses. Incense and candles, and don’t mention chickens to me. 

At first, I worried about revealing myself to a bunch of hookers who practiced Santeria.  I could see them chopping the head of my dick off and them keeping it in a jar by their shrine. I said this to Veronica and she laughed her head off. She called me ‘crazy mon.’ 

I agreed to let her friends see it, but I insisted that they all take turns blowing me and that I wouldn’t have to pay anything. The idea of my dick being shared by a bunch of women turned me on to no end. It took a bit of convincing, but I told them it would be like taking communion, and they agreed. 

They took turns sucking my cock. I felt I was in Heaven. Right up there with Jesus.