Even though I was only eighteen, I remember both momentous events vividly, hoping that my first sexual experience would be with another male.The 'blac...k sheep' of the family (my mother's brother) was Uncle Guy. Back then, I didn't pick up the overt camp signals, such as the pink silk pocket handerchiefs or his idolization of the American crooner Johnnie Ray. Bachelor Guy ran a weird bric-a-brac shop in the London district of Soho, which was then full of Bohemian jazz clubs, casinos, strip joints. She had bent down and started sucking it. A nice firm holds as she just moved very slowly up and down. It felt amazing I don't really know why I didn't cum right then and there. She started to really work my cock up and down with her tongue. I moaned and breathed deeply. As she was sucking she started removing her blouse. Reaching to help her she pushed me back and sounded to not move. She gets her top off and comes up for air. Looking at me she says, “Would you like to play with these??” I. I also knew that if I succeeded I would be badly hurt, but I had to try.I never dreamed I could move as fast as I did. I dove towards her on the floor, and arrived next to her just as the knife was about to slice into her stomach. Knowing it was my only chance to stop what was happening, I slid my hand in between the knife and her stomach.I knew I was in time, despite the overwhelming odds against success, when I felt the tremendous pain. I don't think I had ever felt anything that had hurt. Emma Watson had just swallowed my load and I still had my cock in her mouth and she was still pumping me, as if she really wanted every last drop of cum. A few more, smaller jets erupted into her mouth and with every jet or drop of cum that filled her mouth she moaned.As soon as my sensitivity reached uncomfortable heights I gently pushed her away and she reluctantly let go of my now rapidly shrinking cock."Hmm Sir, that was yummy!" Yes it was Miss Watson, now let's go clean up and come back.