The Perks of Being a Wallflower with a Huge Cock, Parts I thru VIII
Fiction, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Cum Swallowing, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Female/Female, First Time, Hardcore, Male / Female Teens, Male Solo, Male/Female, Masturbation, Older Male / Female, Oral Sex, Romance, School, Teen, Teen Male/Teen Female, Teen Male/Teen Females, Threesome, Virginity, Wife
Charlie is writing his friend of his experiences when a sudden life transformation happens, and Charlie keeps his "friend" updated in a series of letters.
Fans and Friends:
After a long hiatus, I have decided to return to the scene, and re-post this serial in one post (103 pages on my Microsoft Word document!) in one post. Then, any changes and updates I post will be here.
I have also opened a blog at http://hardreads.tumblr.com, where I plan on posting my own work as well as critiquing and re-posting the finest work of others so people can find the best free erotic fiction out there.
To many of you who followed the prologues to many posts in this series, here is how I got over any issues I had with my wife:
I was scared to death that she would find out about my double-life as an erotic novelist. I felt I was spending too much time on this site, so I left. Period. Leaving all my stories dangling to focus on her.
Well, about three months later, we were talking, and I felt the urge to tell her about my writing. Like I had a safe moment.
And needless to say - IT TURNED HER THE FUCK ON!
There was nothing she enjoyed better than knowing that her man could make her cum like a firehose, then write about it!
In real life, so many married couples have drab sex lives. This story has helped open up a whole new world for us. We are acting out scenes. She has had me read her passages, and she would rub herself as she hears about the main character making a throng of girls cum on his cock, and we'll respond by making love all night, in usually dirty and nasty ways, as we all take turns cumming all over each other. Before I wrote this, I had never cum on my wife's face, titty fucked her and gave her a pearl necklace, or assfucked her. Thanks to this story, my sex life has now exploded, and I think you'd excuse me if I took some time off to live out some real life fantasies.
Now, as our sport fucking has become more commonplace (even 10 years into marriage, which is amazing to have a rebirth this late into the marriage!), she is turned on by me diving back into this, so I shall.
I will definitely be more active on my tumblr account, so please interact with me there.
Thanks and as always, keep reading!
May 21, 2049
I am really not sure why I’m writing a letter today. Human beings have no confirmed cases of anybody writing an honest to God letter in 30 years and since Comcast bought the entire Internet in 2022, e-mails have even gone out of vogue and they read our minds for long distance interpersonal communication.
Regardless, I felt I should share my story, or more accurately, my desires with somebody. So here goes.
The truth about me is that I have led, for all intents and purposes, a full life. I am about to hit 70, I have been married to a wonderful woman for nearly 50 years, and I am the father of three beautiful (now fully grown) children, and I’m a recent retiree after a successful career. I have no absolute reason to look back on my life with regret.
But I’m a woefully shallow bastard, I admit. In over 45 years of marriage, I have never made my wife, or any other woman for that matter, cum on my cock. There’s a reason for this --- I have an impossibly small dick. Every so often, it will get maybe four inches long. Maybe. It’s teeny tiny. If I didn’t develop some blood curdling skills with my hands and tongue, I probably would have never scored a girlfriend, let alone a wife. But it made me obsess for a lifetime to have a bigger cock.
Nearly every sexual experience, whether alone or with somebody, revolved around me pretending I was hung like a horse. I’d pretend that I was feeling the opening of my wife’s cervix with my ridiculously long cock, watching her writhe in ecstasy with every mind-boggling thrust and I filled her up whole, touching every possible millimeter of her sex and setting her off in symphony of sweaty and blurry moans.
Instead, such urges were usually cured by the introduction of toys into the bedroom, using a 10-inch horse cock toy on her as she wiggled and giggled in enjoyment.
Fuck that shit.
The real tragedy is that I’d be a Greek fucking God if I had a huge dick. I know this. I know how to fuck. I’m a foreplay master. I have some weird talent to map a woman out and find her erogenous zones and just set them off. I can gauge that small whimper when my finger lightly strokes the small of a woman’s back, and I tell myself later, boom, that’s a trigger. You’re going on the to-do list. And a finger in the ass. I don’t know what it is, but EVERY WOMAN, whether she’ll admit it or not, just loves a finger in the ass. She might not like the feeling of full-blown anal, but that slight penetration of her starfish just plain works. Or maybe the weird spots, like the spot right above the bend in her elbow. I’ve seen it work before. A light touch of the tongue followed by a violent bite. Oh. Dear. God. What a strange place for an external G-spot, but everybody is wired differently. It's all about finding them.
For normal people though, after all that, the part where the fucking takes place is supposed to be the finale. The part when all the fireworks go off in bunches, and all you can hear are ooohs and aaaahs. For me, though, there’s just never been much I can do when I put it in. It’s like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. And even if I try to multitask and resort back to my foreplay techniques while I’m fucking, it doesn’t work. It’s as if most women just turn off their receptors to foreplay when a cock is in them. They’re just focusing on that pleasure --- or lack thereof.
The biggest reaction I get during a fuck is when I cum. Despite having a tiny dick, I’ve always had pretty big balls and shot a pretty righteous load. Even today, pushing 70, I can still get rock fucking hard and shoot my load a good three feet every time I jerk off. When I was younger, my wife loved to give me handjobs and watch as I came across the room, often six feet or more, with just endless ropes of cum. It was crazy. In that way, I knew I was special. I was like Peter North. Hell, when I was a teenager, I used to love blowing my load on the wall above my headboard. Unfortunately, I had to clean the yellow crusties off the wall weekly.
So how awesome would it be if, while being able to do all that, I had a big ol’ cock to boot?
I wish. I wish.
* * * * *
September 5, 1994
I really don’t know what kind of shit you’re trying to pull, but this isn’t funny. So I wake up this morning and open my eyes, and I’m in the bedroom I had when I was 15. Fif-fucking-teen! It was full blown down to the detail – Jenny McCarthy in a bra poster on the wall, Nirvana pictures everywhere, dirty clothes and papers and shit on the floor, the smell of fucking teenagers that I never thought I had to smell again after my own kids grew up and began using deodorant regularly.
Only one thing was different. I look down, and here I am, normal morning wood, only this time, unlike when I was a kid or even an adult, I have this huge fucking hard-on snaking down my boxer shorts. Seriously, I thought it was a dream. I immediately stroked this fucking monster, which I estimated as being around a foot long and thick as my arm, massaged my kiwi-sized balls, and within 30 seconds, I came in those impossibly long ropes I remember, slamming a million miles an hour onto the wall above my headboard.
Now I figured I had just had a wet dream. You know, my wife’s pussy is made of dust these days, so I hadn’t truly come in about a week. And it was normal for me to have dreams where I had a freakishly big dick, considering my fetish and desires. So I was due. And I expected to wake up. So I waited there in post-orgasmic bliss. And waited. And waited.
Next thing I know, my mother, who has been dead for 20 years, comes in.
“Charlie, baby, it’s time to get dressed for school!” I was hit with a sudden emotion of bliss in laying eyes on her. I tried to fight back the immediate tears. Damn, why does this feel so real?
Then I saw it. Sitting on the computer desk, next to my now laughable Windows 3.1 machine, was a leatherbound book. I opened it and inside was an inscription:
“Sometimes, “friends” have powers you cannot understand. Write in these pages as often as you can with as much detail as possible. Begin by telling about what you felt this morning. Now you’ll know what life would be like as long as you had one big change. Stay In Touch, Your Friend.”
Needless to say, I faked sick from school so I could take all this in, and here I am. Writing in your fucking book! Why did you take everything away from me?! I had a good life and now here I am, back being a miserable fucking teenager!? Sure, I have a monster dangling between my legs, but seriously? I fully expect to take a nap now and arrive back in my world that I know.
* * * * *
September 6, 1994
OK I’m seeing the bright side of all of this. Obviously, if I’m still writing in this journal, that means I was still here after my nap. Still fucking 15.
But then I began to see the bright side of things. Let’s be honest. I was 69. Living on my depleted 401K. Just getting up each day to watch TV and that’s about it. Pretty much just waiting to die.
Now here I am, living with my mother who’s been dead for 20 years. With my father who’s been dead for 40. I’ve even been without my brothers for 5 or 10 years. I am the last one left. My children don’t really call or come over anymore. My wife barely talks to me or spends time with me anymore. And as we’ve covered, my sex life consists of how creative I can be while jerking off.
So I suppose this is a second chance. Or maybe a reincarnation. Everybody has that wish “If I could live my life over knowing what I know now...” Everybody wonders what happens to them when they die. Maybe I just got given a fresh 50 or 60 years. A chance for a new adventure.
And a new weapon to use on that adventure.
So to encapsulate my day, I’ve jacked off about five more times, and I forgot how endless the cum reserves were when you were 15.
And I talked to my mom. And spent two hours talking to my dad after dinner about his life and discovering things I never knew.
And getting to know my brothers again. Unfortunately, they’re teenagers again too and I forgot how big of dickheads they were – not like when they were adults.
Tomorrow’s a Wednesday, and judging by the date, we’re about three weeks into my 10th grade year. I remember at this time, I was about to begin getting straight C’s (not because I was stupid, but because I was so lazy, I didn’t even need to study to pass. Heck, I got straight A’s in middle school and again in college). And I was so so focused on getting friends and girls. I barely had either.
At least now, I was smart enough to balance getting good grades – and getting friends and getting laid. I was still a full two years away from when I originally lost my virginity, so I had to decide if I was going to just let things happen – or try to drastically change my fate.
I took a look at my 9th grade yearbook, and it was right then and there that I decided to change my fate. Because I forgot about the hot ass girls I had crushes on.
There was Niki Lorrie. She was my lab partner in 9th grade. Not many girls had a rack in 9th grade, but fuck, she had a nice one. She was about 5’3”, skinny with C-cup tits, and it was in 9th grade that I saw my first eye full of tits as she leaned over in a low cut top, and I thought my eyes were going to pop out. But she was cute too, with big brown eyes and a smile that made me melt. She had kind of small teeth so her smile had a “cute” element to it, combined with the fact that she looked almost exactly like Drew Barrymore but with light brown hair. I had a huge crush on her all throughout high school, and I have to admit, I still hold a fire for her today.
Then there was Amanda Geary. Amanda was my first real crush back in middle school. I remember one day when she came over to my friend’s house while we were all playing and, at the tender age of 13, she fucking propositioned my 12-year-old buddy, promising a blow job. We were fucking floored. So she had a reputation, that’s for sure. But she was so hot – full shoulder-length auburn hair, bright hazel eyes, and a model’s smile, boasting perfect teeth. And I seem to remember that she was always wearing dark red lipstick and it didn’t come off as too much. She more looked like a Golden Age actress that way. And a very perky B-cup rack didn’t hurt things either.
There were many others but those were the two that stuck out to me. I’d be searching those two out right away.
So, I guess before I actually go to sleep tonight, I want to say thank you for giving me this opportunity. It’s not like this is “A Christmas Carol” where I have to cure some past transgression. This is just going to be fun --- I hope!
* * * * *
September 7, 1994
Holy shit, this is going to be fun if today was any indication.
First off, holy good god damn, I forgot how hot the girls were back in high school. Seriously, how did I operate with this many hot women around me all the time? I didn’t realize it then, because everybody was so young and fresh, but there are endless amounts of tail to be had.
I had always had a thing for younger girls. It was like I was stuck in time craving 16-year-olds. Even once I became a professional (I had a career working in sports), I was constantly surrounded by young girls and women. And I certainly developed a taste for girls aged 16-21. And now here they were. And I could fucking have any of them.
But I admit, I didn’t know what to do. I showed up back to my old high school just lost. I went to the office and asked for a copy of my schedule, telling them I lost it and forgot it, and they gave it to me, but not before subjecting me to a lecture by the assistant principal, and it really irked me to see some young 40-year-old punk yelling at me, but then I realized this is Mr. fucking Holloway. The Asshole of Washington High. And I suppose he was an authority figure. So I suspended my pride, tolerated his yell-fest, and went on my way.
It was then that I realized that I didn’t even have any male friends at this point. I just went to school at this time, very quiet, not talking to anybody. Let alone girls. I remember that I pretty much made a new group of friends every year throughout high school only to have them fade away before the next school year started. And in the 10th grade, I didn’t make friends until halfway through the year. So I just went about my way quietly, and to be honest, all those feelings of shyness and being judged just came flooding back.
They really came back when I was in my second-hour class – graphic arts. At this dawn-of-computers time, “graphic arts” had nothing to do with PhotoShop or designing web sites. It was all about printing. It was more like wood shop. And I just did what I always did when I was in class – make hipster T-shirts and stuff.
So I figured this would be as good a time as any for me to make the one article of clothing I actually remember from graphic arts – a pair of gym shorts with an anarchy sign on it (so I can go to gym class and still be “cool”) – when I remember that my beloved Amanda was in that class.
“Carlos, you should put your dick on the scanner,” I overheard her say from the computer lab portion of the work room. She was, of course, surrounded by four guys – all little hybrid hoodrat/preppy guys – and she was eating up all the attention. It was such déjà vu. I totally remembered overhearing this scene when I was younger and being completely turned on by it.
Of course, Carlos was going to be all over this dare. I looked around to see if the teacher was around, then I remember that Mr. Rodriguez usually snuck outside during class to smoke cigarettes. So we were all on our own in that class. Carlos looked around too, then began to unzip. She giggled.
“He’s so cute,” Amanda said. All the other guys started ragging on him.
“Sorry baby, I kind of expected you to be bigger.” He didn’t say anything. “Didn’t your momma teach you that you don’t whip it out unless you have something to whip out?”
I suddenly looked down to my project of the Anarchy Shorts. I remembered that I would wear these to gym class day in and day out all throughout high school. And I remembered one of the reasons why I liked them so much. They were tight, snug, and showed off my package.
I had no dick but I always had pretty big balls. So at first glance, when wearing underwear, it always looked like I had a pretty impressive package. It wasn’t until closer inspection that it revealed that I had a teeny dick.
But I had always hoped that by wearing these shorts to gym class, my package bouncing around everywhere, that I’d attract some girls.
It never happened then, but now, it was going to be different.
Fast forward to gym class. It was my final class of the day, and damn, I forgot about the choice ass in that class. Not only was Amanda in that class as well, but there were two seniors – Rebekah Lange and Pam Martinez. Rebekah was a very cute blonde with long hair to her back, baby blue eyes and a tall, athletic body. About 5’9”, she had a solid B-cup and a girlishly-cute face and smile.
Then there was Pam. Shit, how could I forget about Pam? She was the registered titty goddess of the school. About 5’1” – maybe – but skinny and hauling around a pair of DD tits that just dwarfed her petite frame. I remember finding out later that my older brother fucked Pam when he was a senior and she was a freshman (and her tits were still that big even then), and he rubbed it in my face when I told him I had a crush on her. I was such a nerd back then, he just laughed at my intimation that I had a snowballs chance.
However, for some reason, Amanda, Rebekah and Pam all talked to me in that class throughout the year. I remember that vividly.
Anyway, I was getting dressed for class and it was really then that I marveled at what I was now hauling around. I was wearing boxer shorts, and my cock was so long, even when soft, that it stuck slightly out the bottom of my boxers. The feeling of my cock being restrained down the leg of my boxers had actually bothered me all day long, and now I was seeing why I felt so tight.
So I readjusted myself, kind of rolling myself up around the easy access hole in the front of the boxers, and I put my shorts on. I looked down, and holy fuck, was that an obnoxious bulge down there. Not only did my kiwi-sized balls make quite the bulge, but the outline of my soft cock was obvious. What the hell would happen if I started to get hard?
So I headed out to gym class, wearing my new shorts, and got in my position to do stretches. I sat down and nobody really noticed me, until we got to the jumping jack portion of our workout. Otherwise known as the part where my package goes haywire.
Doing what I had to do, I stood up and began doing jumping jacks, and my balls and cock flew everywhere. I thought they were going slap up and hit my stomach. It was crazy. My cock fell from its strategically placed location and fell down my leg. Then, with every movement I made, my leg rubbed up against my dick. And it began to harden. Oh. Fuck.
I was getting so embarrassed and I didn’t know what to do to hide this bulge. That was until I spied Amanda, about two spots away from me, just looking back. Staring. At it. At ME!
I immediately felt a rush to my stomach as nervousness overtook me. The look in her eyes was unquestioning. It was lust. Total, unbridled lust. I may not have recognized that look back then, but as an adult, I knew that look now.
My mind planned out what I would do. Do I go over to her and tell her I busted her staring? Or do I more play the part and wait for her to maybe make a move?
My question got answered for me after stretches.
As we were walking outside to the softball field to play softball during gym class, Amanda came up to me.
“Hey Amanda,” I said, trying to be cool.
“So I have this, this, question,” she said. “I know it’s going to be weird, so don’t be shocked.” I knew she was going to ask how big my cock was. The lead up to this was obvious. I guess 15 year olds are conversationally transparent. The question remained – do I let her be in charge, or take charge myself and be blunt.
I decided to go for the latter.
“You want to know how big my dick is, don’t you?” She was shocked. Crap, I hoped that was what she was going to ask. Fuck, I thought I had just made a huge mistake.
Then the shock disappeared from her face and it turned in to a huge smile. “How did you know?”
Then I stopped walking, grabbed her hand, and pushed her against the wall of the school. You know, the exact opposite of what I would have done when I was in school. It’s amazing what a lifetime of confidence will allow you to do.
“I saw you looking at me just now,” I began, moving my hand to her shoulder and my face just inches away from hers. “You looked at me like you were a fucking wolverine ready to devour her prey.” She was floored. Amanda was certainly the type of girl that was always in charge, so I knew she loved to be bullied around and told what’s up. “Is that true, Amanda? Did you want to fucking devour me?”
She just got that lusted look in her face again. She closed her mouth and nodded, letting out a whimper.
Now I decided I’d play with her. Just for the heck of it.
“Well, all these years, you’ve never paid attention to me,” I said. “I always tried to talk to you, and you blew me off. So no, I don’t think you deserve to know about my cock, to see my cock, to devour me. Maybe some day soon, I’ll decide you have deserved the right to interact with it. But until then…”
I grabbed her hand, and placed it at the beginning of my hardening shaft. For just a split second, I guided her hand down the entire length of my cock, and watched her eyes as they got big and she let out an audible sigh and cracked a smile.
Then I snatched her hand away and looked at her with mock derision. “You fucking disgust me, cock whore.” Then I stormed off. She just stood there in awe.
The class took part in softball after that. I did what I always did. I hit three home runs even though I was picked last. And despite that, I would be picked last tomorrow. It broke my heart at the time, but now, I just didn’t give a shit.
Walking back to the locker rooms, I heard Amanda yelling for me. She had been endlessly staring at me throughout the softball game. I had to choke back a smile as she yelled for me, and instead pretend to be pissed.
“What do you want?”
“Listen Charlie, nobody has ever talked to me like that. I can’t believe you treated me like such a slut.”
Then she grabbed my arm and moved her mouth close to my ear.
“I fucking liked it.”
I pulled back and looked at her. I wasn’t even sure what emotion I was showing as I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling at that moment. She just smiled.
“Charlie,” she began, “You don’t know how fucking bad I want you. I always thought you were cute, even if it was in a nerdy sort of way, and I have a feeling that not only are you hung like a camel, but that you fucking know how to use it.”
Dear god, how does a 15 year old get away with talking like this?! I mean, I understand it when I talk like this. I’m actually 69. But this is an honest to God 15 year old. Talking like a porn star. Sweet Jesus, all the rumors were true. I didn’t know how to respond.
I simply grabbed her hand, not wanting to cede control of the situation. I pulled her around the corner to a secluded part of the building behind a fence, pinned her to the wall, and kissed her. I got rock fucking hard immediately. In 10 seconds flat, my flaccid member had engorged itself into a foot long meat stick that stuck out the bottom of my shorts.
“Holy shit, is that your cock?” she said, looking down at my cock head sticking out through the leg of my shorts. I nodded and kissed her again. “Oh my fucking God,” she said, smiling widely. I pulled my lips away from hers.
“Amanda, I’ve had a crush on you since the 7th grade. I used to dream about what I’d do to you if I had you. And now that I have you, and you’re lusting on my fucking cock, I’m going to use the entire playbook of my fantasies to make you cum HARD!”
Time to map her out. I immediately nibbled her earlobe, and heard a small moan. Good, but not great. Lightly, I slipped my tongue in her ear. She moaned load… success! Nibbled the top of ear --- right through the roof! OK, come back to that one. I worked my way down to her collar bone and bit hard.
“Mmmmm----ooooohhhhh!” Wow, even a bigger reaction than the top of her ear. I ran my fingers under her shirt, avoiding her tits and instead focusing on her lovehandle area, the small of her back, and flat stomach. All marginal reactions until I got to her stomach. Mmmm… very ticklish, and even better, it caused plenty of involuntary spasms. I immediately moved my tongue to the area and she jumped and moaned load with a mixture of giggles. I bit a mouthful of flesh right around her bellybutton.
“Holy shit, what are you doing to me?” Amanda announced, exasperated. I just kept on my way.
I lowered my hand into her pants, squeezing her fine apple ass with power, then lightly rubbing my index finger on the indentation between the bottom of her ass and her thigh. Fuck, that was the biggest reaction yet.
With my fingers still rubbing her ass/thigh intersection, I lifted up her shirt with my other hand and pulled up her sports bra. Holy fuck, those tits were all that were advertised.
They were so fucking full, the flesh overflowing out of the top of her bra. And her nipples were my definition of perfect – meaty and thick, sticking out about a half-inch, and perfectly pink areola about the same diameter as a tennis ball. And they were just slightly puffy, protruding out from the breast to create a sexy teen shadow.
I denied myself the opportunity to feast on those babies and instead lightly rubbed my tongue on the very end of the nipple on her left tit. Her moans were endless now, one on top of another. I moved my mouth over to the right tit to give it the same treatment as my left hand lightly rubbed around the areola of her left tit. Her breathing was more rapid and ragged, and I recognized this. I had made women cum countless times during foreplay, and she was getting close. Time for the piece de resistance. Without warning, I moved forward and plunged my right index finger deep into her soaking wet pussy and she arched her back and bit her lip, whimpering. Then, again without warning, I quickly withdrew my now wet finger from her pussy and plunged it deep in her asshole.
She fucking came immediately. I felt her squirt on my wrist as my finger was buried in her asshole, and I thought everybody in the school was going to hear her moans.
“Holy shit,” she said, breathing heavily. “How the fuck did you learn how to do that?”
“I’m a nerd,” I said. “I read a lot. I’ve been planning for this day for a long time. I’m still a virgin."
She just looked at me.
“There is no fucking way you’re a virgin. No man has ever made me feel like that.”
I laughed. “And I haven’t even fucked you yet. Or eaten your pussy. You just wait. You’re not going to be able to walk for a whole fucking day when I’m done with you.”
God, I loved talking like this.
She was overcome and kissed me hard and sloppily. I stopped the kiss and pulled away, pulling for my waistband. God, it was such a turn-on to see how excited she was. She was practically hyperventilating. Amanda fucking Geary was hyperventilating at the sight of ME?!
I pulled my shorts down and with a violent tension, my turgid cock sprung upward, slapping me in the chest and finally settling just inches away from her breasts.
“Oh my god, Charlie. This thing is fucking gorgeous.”
Like a woman obsessed, she got on her knees and tried her best to inhale the whole fucking thing. It was too big, of course, so she couldn’t. She barely got past the head and her teeth were grazing all over it. But she was a fucking trooper. She slobbered all over it and tried to cram as much of it down her throat as she could fit. It never made it in, but it was such a fucking turn-on watching her try.
She returned to just try a hand job, and she admired its size and girth. “God, Charlie, I can’t even get my hand all the way around it. And I can jerk if off with two hands and there’s even room for two more.”
“Maybe I should tell some of my friends about this fucking thing.” Yes, Amanda, you should tell ALL your friends!
Then, I grabbed her by her ass, pulled down her shorts a bit more, and picked her up. Sure, I almost dropped her, but I felt so strong with this giant cock, I was able to move her to a nearby bench. I placed her on her back, pulled her ass off the edge, and began my descent.
“Are you ready?”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” she said. “I hope it fits… mmmm.”
I put my cock at her entrance and slowly, began to push myself in. She gasped and began to tear up the moment my cock head popped through her opening.
“Holy fuck, you’re soooo big.” Oh god, my head just swelled.
“This the first time you’ve had a big cock, Amanda? Huh?” She nodded while whimpering in ecstasy. “You’ve never had a 12 inch cock before?”
“Oh my God, you’re 12 inches?” she asked, closing her eyes as I continued trying to cram myself into her. As I squeezed 2 more inches into her impossibly tight pussy, she came, squirting her stuff all over the ground below. My God, did she cum at just the idea of having a 12 inch cock? I’m barely three inches into her right now.
I bent forward to get leverage, grabbing hold of her sides and pushed my cock in deeper. She had taken five now. Six. Seven. Wow, this felt so weird, feeling this much pussy. And feeling it so tightly around me, I thought I was going to cum right then.
By this time, her orgasms were coming in bunches, almost one on top of another, and I was losing count. Damn, is this what guys with big cocks can do? Make girls cum by simply waving their girth around?
By the time I had all but about four inches of my cock inside her, I felt it. The feeling I had been imagining my entire life. I bottomed out. When I reached the back of her pussy wall, her back arched and she came again (surprise surprise). The feeling I felt was pressure, a little bit like trying to put on gloves that were too small. It was good, great for the ego, but a little bit uncomfortable. All I wanted at that moment was to be able to thrust back even further and jab my cock toward the back of her uterus.
“Jesus Christ, Charlie, I’ve never been this filled up! Fuck, how are you even real?”
I just kept fucking her, bottoming out on her and thrusting while nibbling the parts of her body I could reach. I immediately noticed that with a cock this big, my body couldn’t get very close to hers, so I couldn’t embrace her as easily. But that was no matter --- I was FUCKING AMANDA GEARY!
As I felt myself get close, I told her to get off the bench and get on her knees.
“Grab it with both hands and jerk me off,” I commanded. “I’m going to cum on your face.”
She looked up at me in horror. Oh yeah --- I forgot that this was 1994. There was no Internet. No widespread knowledge of or acceptance of cumming on one’s face. XHamster hadn’t enlightened the masses yet.
“No, it’s okay, Amanda,” I assured her. “Women do it all the time like this. I’ve seen it all the time in porn videos.”
She seemed to calm with that and began stroking my cock with both hands, twisting them instinctively as she looked up with still more lust in her eyes. I felt the cum slowly rise up my cock, and I have to admit, I still wasn’t used to that feeling.
With a small dick, orgasms were short but I shot forever. It didn’t take a long time for the cum to rise up my little dick – making the orgasm feeling last for two seconds tops before I just simply shot for the next 10 seconds.
With a big long cock, the orgasm feeling was waaaay longer. The cum took like five or six seconds to rise up my cock and the orgasm feeling seemed endless. And I shot way more too, since there was more cum to dispose of. Which Amanda was going to find out firsthand.
The first shot took her by surprise, as it shot hard right at her eyeball in a rope and plastered it immediately shut. Then it shot her and landed about five feet behind her head. And the shots just kept coming, some shooting past her face, but about half just glazing every square inch of her impossibly beautiful face. I can’t explain the feeling of seeing Amanda Geary covered in my cum, and MY deflating 12 inch cock in front of her as she breathed heavily.
“Holy fuck, Charlie. We are sooo doing that again!”
Friend, I will repeat, THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN!
* * * * *
September 8, 1994
Fuck High School. I should have expected that it wasn’t going to be all peaches and cream. I had designs to fuck Amanda Geary regularly. There was no greater thrill than to make her cum as often as possible and force her to beg for my cock.
But I arrive at school, and what happens? Carlos, the prick from my graphic arts class, finds me before school and confronts me.
“Are you the motherfucker that raped my girlfriend?” he said, bouncing around and his hands flailing animatedly. This guy was the epitome of a Mexican “gangsta”, even using the trend of the time of wearing a hair net and having miscellaneous tattoos of crosses all over his body. I even heard that on his back, he had the obligatory “In Memoriam of My Fallen Homie” tat, commemorating the dude that was killed in a drive-by in gang warfare.
In short, fucking Amanda really knew how to pick them.
And let’s back up. Rape!?! What the fuck?
“Dude, hold up,” I began, trying to act like an adult and use real social skills to get out of this situation. “I didn’t rape your girlfriend.”
Yes, I HAD to deny that part. Then there was the question as to whether I would deny being with Amanda. It was obvious he was talking about her. I wasn’t sure what to do.
“Sure, like I’m going to believe some nerdy white piece of shit like you,” Carlos fired back. “Fucking white trash motherfucker. The only way a piece of shit like you could get laid is if you raped somebody you fucking nerd.”
My whole life, I had a temper. A bad one. It all stemmed from being picked on as a kid, trying to hold my emotions back before I just fucking snapped. I never lost it in normal situations. Always for stupid shit. For example, a guy would fuck with me at school, then I’d get home and the ketchup didn’t come out of the bottle fast enough, so I’d throw the bottle against the wall and break it. That’s how I rolled.
And somebody calling me a white trash nerd who needed rape to get laid? Yeah, that will do it.
Without warning, I swung on Carlos. But then I forgot that I was 15. I was 5’9” and about 150 soaking wet. Not an ounce of muscle on me. And not a chance in hell of hurting anybody with a punch. Fuck, I hadn’t thrown a punch in 30 years.
So it ended up being the usual story. Carlos laughed at me, kicked the shit out of me (not before inviting two of his buddies to help out, since he obviously couldn’t take me all by himself), and before I knew it, I was in the Principal’s Office for “starting a fight” since I threw the first punch, and there was this whole pesky “rapist” thing.
All I know is, thank goodness my Mom worked at the school. I know I forgot to mention that part to you, but she worked in the lunchroom (oddly enough, right alongside Amanda’s mom). So the two of them intervened, and once Amanda got involved in the Principal’s Office, the truth came out (luckily before the cops were called). Amanda acknowledged that we had sex, but confided in her mother that she could never be with me because I was such a nerd. And as teenage girls are want to do, they spin tales when they’re busted. When she didn’t fully clean all the cum from her face the day before and Carlos confronted her, she apparently forced a cry on cue, and said she was raped. She could have left it at that, but she caved and dropped my name.
So our mothers intervened, knowing the truth, and kept me out of trouble. But I was still suspended for “starting a fight” and lo and behold, I am now stuck at home for 5 days.
I really can’t fathom how much a bitch move it was and how her accusation could have literally ruined my life. But I forget she’s 15 and has no fucking concept of life-altering choices.
Regardless, I will be at home for the next 5 school days, meaning I’ll have more than a week off of school. Hooray me!
Fuck Amanda Right in the Ear,
* * * * *
September 18, 1994
Today was my first day back at school, and I have to say, it really is amazing what happens to the high school rumor mill and how much power the social haves and have-nots possess.
Needless to say, Amanda stuck with her story in the social circles. I raped her. Everybody thought that shrimpy nerd kid was now a rapist. It all made sense I suppose. It’s the “quiet ones you have to watch”, right?
So no matter what I tried, nobody would talk to me. Especially girls. Come on, nobody wants to talk to a fucking rapist.
I really have no idea what to do. Seriously, I’m thinking of petitioning that my mom sends me to another school. How can a 15-year-old deal with having the label of being a “rapist.”
She told me to tough it out, and I suppose I will. But I’m suddenly a 69-year-old man just overflowing with teen angst of After School Special proportions. I’m an enigma wrapped in a cautionary tale.
And the worst part? I can’t even unwind by going home and looking at Internet porn! There’s no fucking Internet yet!
I’m going to do my best to repair my image and focus on my studies. I’ll keep you updated as things change, but I don’t anticipate daily updates.
* * * * *
September 29, 1994
Sorry for not writing for the past couple weeks, but things have been equal parts totally uneventful / same shit, different day combined with a staggering level of surprising events. I know that sounds weird, but bear with me.
So every day has been the same. Nobody talks. People just look at me. I mean LOOK at me. And not the good kind of look. Maybe I’d feel better if people checked out my package, but Amanda apparently said nothing about that. Just the rape thing. You know.
It did get bad enough that they moved me from the graphic arts class I shared with Amanda and Carlos. And that really sucked because it was in that class that I made friends with two guys I originally got close to my first time around in 10th grade, Zack and Gerald. I also met a different girl named Amanda, who ended up introducing me to my closest group of friends the latter part of my junior year. So much for all that.
So I was just all business. I just went to class, did my best, completely lost myself in my studies, and was doing well. I really missed my wife. I really missed my kids. I feared I’d never see them again. And it was frustrating knowing that right across town, my wife was in 8th grade, not knowing I existed. And there was nothing I could do about it. I watched enough time travel movies through the years to know that you don’t interact with the younger versions of people close to you if you want things to turn out. And the more I thought about it, I wanted things to turn out.
So I really focused, deciding that I wanted to do whatever I could to ensure that my life, career and family happened just the way it originally did.
To meet my wife the same way again, I knew I had to wait. I didn’t originally meet her until I was about to graduate high school. And career wise, I fell ass backwards into a career in sports after college.
So maybe, I thought to myself, I could at least more refine my preparation for my career.
That’s when I decided to do something strange to distract myself – play baseball.
I never played a sport when I was younger. I loved sports but was too scared to be rejected or suck or whatever. Trouble is, I knew I was good, at least at baseball. I couldn’t get through a single gym class softball game without slamming a homer. I was solid in the field, though I knew I needed work.
It was about this time that my gym teacher, who was also the head baseball coach, asked me to try out for baseball.
That really was a seminal point in my life, because that happened the first time around too. And I said no. I was too scared. Fed him some line that I didn’t have time.
But now? Fuck it. Even if I wasn’t going to be good, I knew it would be good to be part of the team at least. Even if I was riding the bench, maybe I could be the stats guy. Hell, when I did got a job in sports, that ended up being my job, anyway. So regardless, it would be good training.
I did the tryout, and apparently did well. Coach Luther liked my game and said I might be able to find a spot on the JV team. I was super excited. It would be the first time ever I was playing a sport and before I knew it, I was practicing three times per week to prepare for our season in the Spring.
Despite this, gym class still sucked. Still got picked last even though I was on the fucking baseball team now. And Amanda was still there every day. And she still was looking at me all the time. It was more with sadness though and she could never bring herself to talk to me. I just said “fuck it” and kept doing my thing.
Then there was today. I’m out at baseball practice and we’re in our practice uniform. I’m taking ground balls at third and look toward the bleachers and who do I see? Amanda. What the fuck is she doing here? Of course, the first thing that popped into my mind was “which guy on the ball team is she fucking?”
I tried ignoring her and once practice ended and I was packing up my bag, she comes up to me.
“What do you want?” I began coldly.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I said, what DO YOU WANT?!”
She lowered her eyes to the ground and face got sullen. “I’m sorry,” she said lightly.
“What?” I asked. I couldn’t hear her.
She raised her head and tears were rolling down her face. “I said I’m fucking sorry, alright?”
I kind of didn’t know how to respond. What she did was so cold and low down, I shouldn’t accept her apology. She doesn’t fucking deserve that.
But it’s in my gut to be nice and forgive. Even if people don’t deserve it. It’s kind of my way. And I still look at her, into her shimmering, tear-filled eyes, and I can’t stay mad at her. I know I’m weak.
So I fucking forgave her. I was a pussy, I caved, and I forgave her.
“Can I walk you home?” she asked me.
“But I thought you couldn’t be seen with a nerd like me,” I fired back, daggers in my eyes.
“I don’t mind at all if I’m seen with you,” she smiled. “You are on the baseball team now,” she giggled.
I didn’t giggle. This shit was still deadly serious to me and she knew I wasn’t budging.
“I’m just joking Charlie. Please, let me walk you home.”
“What about Carlos?”
“I dumped him,” she responded matter-of-factly. “He fucking hit me after he found out I was with you, and no man hits me. So he’s gone. You won’t need to worry about him or his stupid fucking friends,” she said, raising her finger to rub the bruise still evident above my left eye from the fight.
I still didn’t know how to respond, but coldly, I calculated that if I was going to get out of high school social hell, the only person that could save me was the person that put me there. Amanda. She needed to fix it. And this might be the only way to fix it.
So we walked home and we talked the whole way. We obviously never really talked before. But it tended toward the sexually tense subjects. She asked me about my crush on her. I asked her, of course, what she thought about our encounter.
“I have to tell you, Charlie,” she explained, “my legs are still shaking. Like a month later, I nearly cum just thinking about it.”
I’m not ashamed to admit that I pretty much instantly got hard when she said that. And she noticed. Because she’s fucking blunt.
“Mmmm, there it is,” she said flirtaceously, grabbing for my growing cock to squeeze my cock head as we walked. “I knew he still liked me.”
“Amanda, just fucking quit it,” I said. “We’re not going down that road again.”
“Okay, fine. I’m sorry.”
So after about three minutes of awkward silence, I finally spoke.
“Why did you come over that day to proposition my friend Matt?” I asked her, referring to the time back in middle school that she came over to offer my friend Matt a blow job when she was 13 and he was 12.
“Back in middle school. I was at Matt Finley’s house playing and you and Phebe Larson came by and we were all by the front door when you asked him to come out. And you told him right there you wanted to blow him. I mean, what possessed you to do that?”
She was quiet, recalling the time. “Well, I thought Matt was cute and…” she stopped. Then, reassessing her thoughts, she stopped walking and looked at me. “The real question is why did you still have a crush on me after seeing me do that?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Why did I? It was certainly a slutty move. Not endearing at all and I wasn’t turned on by that.
“You know why, Amanda? You were the first girl to ever talk to me.”
It was true. I was in an after school club for photographers in 7th grade and she came by to say hi to our club advisor, who was also her favorite teacher. But he had left the room for a moment, and she asked me where he was. I said I didn’t know, so she gave me a “titty twister” and tickled me, demanding to know where I was. It was the first time a girl flirted with me.
It turned me on so much. She was such a cutie, even for a 7th grader. She was budding breasts at the time and they were full, even if they were small, and she was wearing a body suit, which was all the rage at the time. They were essentially onesies like toddlers wear, but instead teenage girls wore them. They were skin tight and showed off every curve. And I just drooled at the sight of one, especially Amanda.
After physically abusing me, she hung out for a few minutes and she asked about our club and I told her about photography and the kinds of things we do. She even asked if I would take pictures of her, and of course, I said I would. It never happened, of course, but the future photo shoot was at the center of every masturbatory fantasy I would have about Amanda.
After telling her the Reader’s Digest version of the story, I went back to the incident with Matt.
“And the reason I never faulted you for Matt was because I think I was already in love with you at the time. And love is blind.”
She was silent for several seconds, and then she finally spoke.
“You love me?”
I paused, and then I had to make the situation bad. I just had to.
“Loved. I loved you. Past tense. After what you did, I could never love, or trust you, again.”
It was harsh, but it had to be said. She kind of stayed silent after that, only letting out an “oh” as we finished our journey and arrived to my house.
We stood on my porch, and it was like the end to a first date. We kind of pirouetted with one another because the subject of a kiss seemed to be on the table for some reason. Not that the subject of conversation on our walk home was particularly positive, but it seemed like we had to kiss for some reason.
Instead, she broke the tension by moving in – for a hug. And we held it for about a full minute. And she squeezed me TIGHT. And my 15-year-old cock didn’t even get hard. It just felt NICE. It felt nice to be touched.
We finally backed away from one another and she looked at me, and again, it was like we were going to kiss. Somebody had to break the tension.
“You want to come inside?” I blurted out. Almost excitedly, she agreed.
As I walked in the door, who’s the first person I see? My mother. My mother who knew everything about what happened. Who certainly knew Amanda. The disapproval on her face was obvious.
“Hey … mom.”
She just stared. “Charlie? A word?”
She lectured me about good choices versus bad choices, how Amanda was a bad girl and all that. So I told her what we talked about on the way home and how she apologized, and my theory that if I was going to have a normal time at school, she was my ticket to normalcy. She reluctantly agreed and let us both enter the house.
“Just keep it in your fucking pants, will ya?” she told me. We were always sexually open in our house.
I take Amanda in and we go to my room. As we walk in, I hear my mom yell “keep the door open!!” Amanda and I both look at each other and smile.
We sat down on the bed next to each other and almost instinctively, she grabbed my hand. We looked at each other, and again, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“I know, I know. I forgive you.”
“I want to make it up to you,” she offered. Unsure of where she was going with this, I just waited for her. “I’d like to be your girlfriend. You know, if you’ll have me.”
I was just floored. I couldn’t believe it. This girl, who just recently branded me a fucking rapist, was asking to be my girlfriend? And even more surprising was my knee jerk reaction that came out of my mouth.
She smiled so wide and just planted a huge, wet kiss on me. Goddamn, she tasted just like strawberries. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that before.
“So I’m your first girlfriend, huh?” she asked. “I guess that’s a lot of pressure, huh?”
“You were my first fuck too. And you seemed to handle that just fine.”
Then we both reflected on how she did handle it. She groveled like a cock hungry whore, came like 20 times and then, emotionally-riddled, accused me of rape to avoid a breakup with her then-boyfriend.
“OK, maybe you didn’t handle it fine,” I laughed. “But you’ll handle it better from now on?”
“Of course,” she said, moving in to kiss me. It was a long, passionate kiss, and it was enough to make my considerable cock snake right down my pant leg. She put her hand on my thigh and unwittingly put her hand right on it.
“Damn your cock is impressive,” she said, that look of lust re-appearing in her eyes. “And it all belongs to me now, huh?’
“Mmm, yes, Amanda. It’s all yours.”
She got so fucking turned on at that, she began tearing my clothes off immediately even though my bedroom door was wide open. I motioned for her to close the door and she lightly shut it, just didn’t let it snap shut. Then she returned to me, getting on her knees and unbuttoning my pants, digging my rock hard cock out.
She held it up in front of her, just admiring it. I think drool was beginning to form on her lips.
“Mmmm, I can’t believe you fit this monster inside of me.”
“Babe, I didn’t. I still had four inches or so I couldn’t even fit in.”
She got so turned on by that, she put both hands on my cock and began stroking vigorously. “Really? And you still reached the back of my pussy? Mmmmm, fuck.”
She immediately lowered her mouth on my cock and began the blowjob of a lifetime. I didn’t get a chance to feel her full performance before, but she knew how to suck a cock. She tried so hard to get my cock to enter her throat, and after not making the final descent on our last meeting, she got my bulbous cock head to pop past the opening of her throat. Oh my god, I’d never gotten deep throated like that. My cock was never even big enough to deep throat. Now, Amanda was lapping on it as about 7 inches of my massive member had disappeared in her mouth.
She throat-fucked me for two solid minutes before rising up and taking off her shirt. Last time I saw her, she was wearing a lame black sports bra. Today, it was a pretty Victoria’s Secret number that was silver with pink hearts, creating amazing cleavage. She reached back and unhooked her bra, letting those magnificent titties with those perfect nipples be freed.
I lowered my head to suck on her tits, something I didn’t really do before, cognizant of the fact that if I made her really turned on, she’d moan uncontrollably and my Mom would bust us. So I just kind of went through the motions without giving her the full “experience.” Just let her do her thing to me.
And do her thing she did. She picked my head up from her tits and grabbed my cock and raised it toward her entry. As she did, I felt a drop of her lubrication fall from her pussy and dribble across my balls. She was soaking.
As she readied for penetration, my cock head was held high as she let her weight bring her down on my massive rod. After popping my cock head through her opening, she let out a moan.
“Oh my god, you’re so fucking huge. And you’re all fucking mine!”
She continued to lower herself and by the time I was about six inches in and no thrusts had even happened, she was cumming. I had to put my hand over her mouth to muffle her and put one finger up to my mouth to “shh” her.
Man, I loved having a huge cock!
I thrust up into her and buried my cock even deeper. She was beside herself in ecstasy. Such a turn on to turn her into mush! I took her close and kissed her deeply.
“I love you Amanda,” I said. Even though I really didn’t love her, but I had that butterfly, newness feeling I remembered, and I suppose that counts. “And don’t feel pressure to say it back. Just know that I love you.”
She whimpered and pushed into the kiss even harder. Then she picked up her thrusts into turbo mode, and was bouncing up and down my dick. It took all of 20 seconds for me get ready to cum. She was breathing heavily too.
“I’m gonna cum, hun. Where do you want it?”
She seemed confused by my question, so I took the initiative and pulled her off of me and forced her to her knees. I jacked my cock right at her face and began spraying everywhere. My amazing collection of cum shots was going to come in handy, as the first two hit her face, then I aimed at her tits and back at her face. After spurt #11, she inhaled my cock and licked it all up, letting the finale spray down her throat.
“Oh my God, you really do cum forever, don’t you?” I just smiled.
We soon returned to the more innocent world as my Mom took her home, and once at Amanda’s house, we all had a talk, including Amanda’s mom, to announce we were now a couple and to clear the air on the past. Everybody seemed pretty much OK with it, though our mother’s were reticent.
Regardless, I know we’re a dynamite fucking couple and as long as this thing lasts, I know we will be having some epic fuck sessions.
* * * * *
October 5, 1994
It really has been a long time since I felt that “feeling.” That whole “new relationship feeling.” I haven’t felt it since I began dating my wife, and that was now about 47 years ago, give or take. And speaking of which, ever since Amanda and I became an item, I can’t help but compare Amanda to her. It was a foregone conclusion.
First, I can’t help but compare each of their looks. And though I love my wife, she just doesn’t compare to Amanda. I’m sorry, I know it’s horrible. But I was a solid “5”. And the woman I married was also a “5”. I knew this. I just accepted it. She was overweight (granted, she actually lost weight as she got older then grew into a “solid 7”, but when we started, she was overweight), and I was mostly attracted to her flawless face, big brown eyes and F cup tits.
But Amanda was arguably the hottest girl in school. She was skinny, probably a size 4, and curvy with those C-cup tits, but her beauty was the most striking. Her olive complexion, gorgeous hair and huge, anime eyes were just too much to resist. I’m sorry, she was just hotter than my wife. I know it’s horrible.
And then there was the fucking. When my wife and I fucked, we FUCKED. Sure, I was spearing her with my pencil dick and she didn’t much care, but we were sexually compatible and I knew each of her buttons. Our sex life was always entertaining.
But Amanda is almost apples and oranges. Since we officially hooked up, we must have fucked like 25 times in a week. It’s been fucking amazing. But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Fucking with a huge cock is a goddamn challenge!
First off, I am 15, I suppose, and I need to wear condoms. And you try to find condoms that will fit a wrist-thick 12-inch cock. You can’t do it. I tried the XLs and they barely cover 2/3 of it. And they are even tight as fuck. So as a result, I either can’t stay hard or the fucking thing rolls off, and we’ve gone bareback a lot. I know that’s a scary deal, but I can’t help it.
But Amanda doesn’t seem to notice either way. She cums like a fire hydrant regardless of what’s on my cock. She’s so cock crazy, she practically cums just by looking at it!
The best fuck we’ve had in the past week was one we did in public. It was fucking mind blowing.
So my parents were home. And her parents were home. And we had no car to fuck in. And we weren’t about to use a park because it was beginning to become Fall and it was cold.
So I had this amazing idea. We find the nearest hotel. I hang out just out of view of the front desk to eavesdrop on an unsuspecting lodger. Make sure to spot somebody of the right age group. Pay attention to the details. Then later, I go to the front desk, pretending to be scared.
“Excuse me,” I said, fighting back fake tears. “I just walked down the street to the mall, and this guy stole my wallet, and my key was in there. I need to get back in my room!”
“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. What’s your name and room number?”
“It’s Roberts and we’re in 211. Thank you so much!”
And lo and behold, the front desk girl gives me a room key, and I suddenly have keys to the castle.
And later, when Amanda and I go to the pool or the hot tub to discreetly fuck each other’s brains out, we’re an easy in.
We decided to try to pool first, and like most hotel pools, it was practically deserted. So we got in and put on our swimsuits. Amanda said she wanted me to opt for Speedos. I told her she was fucking nuts, but she had a point. When I put them on, it looked like I stuffed a fucking baby kitten down there, and it turned her on so much to see every curvature of my manhood in that stupid fucking suit.
I wanted her in a string bikini. Hot pink. Keep in mind, at that time, it wasn’t easy to come across such a suit, as women just didn’t dress that slutty at the time. But she got some cash from her mom and bought one that fit like a fucking glove. Those pink cups just hugged her naturally perky 15-year-old C-cup tits that spilled over the top and made cleavage that seemed to run up to her neck.
Once in the pool, we wasted no time mauling each other. Always keeping an eye on the front entrance of the pool area, we kept escalating. It wasn’t long before my cock had stretched its confines and had to be let free. With my cock released now, her generous nipples immediately hardened, making indentations in her bikini. I wasn’t about to free her tits unless somebody came in, but I did adjust them just enough to create a couple planned nip slips.
She was still visibly nervous, though, as I was still the one leading this adventure.
“What if somebody comes in and sees us?”
“Amanda. Baby. We’re a couple of horny teenagers. The adults will just scoff at us. The worst thing that happens is they tell on us and they ask us to leave their pool. Oh well.”
Very common sense stuff and it seemed to calm her. She lost herself in our kiss as the petting became heavier – and my cock became harder. Thanks to buoyancy of the water, I was able to pick her up by her ass and lift her with no effort as she faced me, holding on to my neck. I raised her ass up to about my chest so my impossibly long cock could get at the entrance of her pussy. I pulled the string out of her ass and pushed it aside, exposing her pussy lips. I stuck two fingers inside and tickled her clit to get a rise out of her, and though she was still scared, I aligned my cock to her pussy and grabbed her waist, pushing her down my length.
“Ohhhh, oh god! Oh fuck!” she moaned upon entry. Even after all our fucking, she still wasn’t quite used to my size and made this kind of theatrics every time I made my way in to her body.
With each and every inch I pushed into her, the tears and apprehension grew. She was so overcome by her tight little teen pussy being stretched to its limits over and over again.
With our floating bodies more working against us, we managed to get a workable rhythm down to thrust with one another. I don’t think either of us was really getting off, but the idea of what we were doing was plenty to keep us excited.
We were fucking like this for a solid five minutes when the door to the pool opened and an old couple came in to use the nearby hot tub. We froze. We were scared shitless! We stayed completely still and the look of horror on Amanda’s face was almost funny.
“Follow my lead,” I whispered, and she nodded attentively.
We were in the middle of the pool at this time, only about 4-1/2 feet deep. I told her to giggle as I moved her, pretend we’re playing, but by no means, let my cock slip out of her.
“See it as a challenge,” and she smiled.
I picked her up, almost to the point to where she was nearly slipping off my cock. I looked over to the couple and they were barely paying attention to us. I was trying to sell it that we were some teenage couple just flirting with each other.
I made like I was carrying her to the deep end, and we made it there, still about three inches deep inside her, before setting in a corner of the pool, the furthest away from the old couple that we could get. We were now in about 5-1/2 feet of water now.
“Try to place yourself on my thighs,” I whispered. “I’ll hold you up.”
“I’m tired,” I said louder, expecting the old couple to hear. “Let’s rest for a bit.”
Then I whispered again. “Spread your legs aside and place your feet on each corner of the wall.” Amanda did that and when she did, I pulled her toward me, burying my cock probably 9 or 10 inches deep in one epic thrust.
“Ungh!!!!” she moaned. LOUD. And very porny. The old couple immediately looked at us and I looked back, first telling Amanda to be quiet with my eyes before shifting my eyes back to them to gauge their reaction. Luckily they seemed to blow it off.
“Keep it together, OK?”
“I can’t, Charlie. You’re so fucking big….mmmm… ungh!”
We looked deeply and ferociously into each other’s eyes. Slowly, I thrust in and out of her. I’d never been this deep before. With the challenge to stay quiet, our audience on the other side of the pool, and the amazing feeling of me pretty much tickling her cervix and her getting filled like she never had before, it was Very. Fucking. HOT!
I continued the slow, deliberate strokes. She bit her lip almost every time to stifle a moan. We kept this up for about five minutes and I got that wonderful, almost sweet feeling in my cock when you fuck slowly as opposed to jackhammer away as quick as you can just to cum. Even when I was small, fucking like this was fun because every single nerve in every single millimeter of my cock was heightened. Now that my cock was three or four times bigger, and I could still feel every sensation on every part of my cock, it was nearly unbearable. So much orgasmic tissue, I just couldn’t take it.
She was feeling it too. She was fighting back an orgasm this whole time, but she just couldn’t take it anymore. Her breathing shortened and she panted, her eyes rolling back in her head. It was going to happen. And I was scared to death.
But her reaction was making me lose control too. I felt like I was going to cum harder than I ever had in my life.
It was like a movie. It started with an almost inaudible whimper. Then it grew louder with every breath. Louder. Louder. I felt my cock spasm and grow that final half-inch as it reached its apex of hardness to spray my seed anywhere it could go. Then she hit it. Her high note.
“Ungh---UNgh---UNGh---UNGH!!!! UNGH!!! AAAAAHHHH!!!” She screamed so loud, everybody in the hotel, all the way up to the third floor, could probably hear us. I didn’t help either. I came so hard at that moment, and moaned louder than I ever had.
Needless to say, there was no hiding what we were doing at that point. And those old folks definitely knew it. We were cumming so hard, we were nearly crying.
“Oh my god, I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you too!”
As the orgasms finally tapered off, we finally had the wherewithal to look back at the old couple. And we were shocked. They were fucking making out! It all turned them on so much that they couldn’t help but try to fuck as well! We laughed so hard.
On our way out of the pool, the old couple was still making out. I hatched a plan with Amanda. Just for shits and grins.
We snuck over to the hot tub, and fuck, we knew we looked good. Amanda’s body, as always, just wouldn’t quit. And my cock looked fucking epic stuffed into that Speedo.
Standing within eye shot, I grabbed Amanda, kissed her passionately, grabbed her tits, and unbeknownst to myself, stretched my Speedos a bit by sprouting a ferocious semi. We turned around to them, looked at them, and saw their eyes pop out of their heads as they drunk in our sexuality. And to add icing on the cake…
“Hey buddy,” I said to the old man. “Make her cum harder than she has in 20 years.”
The old lady laughed and we just turned around, grabbed our towels and walked out.
I hope we get a chance to spin much more tales like this one!
October 20, 1994
This is about the third time I’ve tried writing this passage. I’ve written, erased, torn pages out, and maybe this time it’s going to stick.
Because if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that it’s really super easy to digress back to the attitude – and maturity – of a 15-year-old. Because that’s what I’ve been acting like.
Because yesterday, I cried. I fucking cried. Amanda broke up with me and I cried. Like a bitch. Because a 15-year-old girl dumped me. I mean, seriously? I am not very proud of myself right now.
Let me back track. First of all, it turns out that Amanda and I had nothing in common (besides epic sport fucking). That shouldn’t be a surprise. I am 69. And she’s 15. But I guess if you think about it, she’s 69, too, if you wrap your head around it. Part of our age is that we have shared experiences and Amanda and I certainly have shared experiences. But I digress – we still had jack shit to talk about after fucking. It even got to the point where I was asking her “how’s school?” while in the pillow talk stages. Shit, that’s how I talked to my own children when I had nothing to talk about. It was fucking absurd.
And then there was the pressure at school. Convince me all she’d like that she had no problem dating me, a verifiable nerd and social nobody – as well as somebody who RAPED her – but it was an issue.
First, the rape allegation was a two-way deal. First, at my request, I DEMANDED that she dispel the rape rumor by telling anybody who would listen that I didn’t rape her, it was a big misunderstanding, and that we were a happy couple now.
Which led to a myriad of questions.
“What do you mean, misunderstanding? Did you lie? Did he lie? Why would you lie about a thing like that?”
“Why the hell are you with HIM? He’s a dork. He probably has a huge schlong, doesn’t he?”
“You mean he does have huge schlong? Seriously? It’s that big??”
And so on. Now, while this did wonders for my self-image and my general popularity amongst the townspeople, it didn’t really impact her in the most positive light. She came off in this whole deal as a liar and a bit of a slut.
So there’s that.
Then there’s the small matter of her reputation.
First, I knew every guy wanted to fuck her. It’s been that way since the 8th grade. She’s always been regarded as the finest piece of ass in school. She just oozed sex – even if she wasn’t necessarily the hottest girl in school, she was just overflowing with sexuality. I guess, she had that air of “slut” that just attracted guys.
But it was because of that that she had no real female friends. None. Zero. She had all kinds of guy friends because, let’s admit it, they were constantly making inroads to bang her.
So the cause-effect of this was that her magical popular pixie dust did rub off on me – I was suddenly a “somebody,” --- the guy that is taming Amanda Geary. And to those in the know, I did it by waving around a huge dick.
But that’s the thing about a huge dick. It’s a major disarming device. To other dudes.
Though nobody really had any clue HOW BIG my dick was, they knew it must be pretty fucking massive. Massive enough that her male friends just kind of --- faded away. They knew they couldn’t get into a pissing contest with me. Guys base so much on the size of their cocks. If Guy A is smaller than Guy B, it is a universal truth that Guy A will cower and hide without so much as a fight. And I’ll be damned if that’s what happened.
I was thankful for it because I wasn’t much in the mood to have to compete constantly with other guys. My entire life, even going back to college and the whole bit, I hardly ever had to do that, and when I did, it never went well.
But the truth was, these douche bags kept her happy. The chorus of adoring men aiming their pencil dicks in her general direction was the fuel she needed to get up in morning.
And now, because of me, all that was gone.
But it was about more than all that. Turns out she kept out a pretty fucking major detail that should have come to light when we were hooking up.
So the way we got together – the whole, I-dumped-Carlos-he-hit-me blah blah blah?
Yeah…. Didn’t exactly go down like that.
Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version of how her relationship ended.
Essentially, after Carlos kicked my ass, he kind of lost his shit. He couldn’t believe his girl would cheat on him. And the fact that I was a white geek really fucked his shit up. So since he’s a violent guy by nature, he hit her. Repeatedly. Kind of just the same way I imagined in the breakup story she told me.
What she didn’t tell me was, AFTER he beat her ass, bruised her up and all that, it was HER, not HIM, that begged for forgiveness. She begged for him to take her back. And he wasn’t having any of it.
And it wasn’t more than 20 minutes after he told her to take a hike that she showed up at my baseball practice sniffing up my tree.
So she lied to me about being this strong, independent woman who doesn’t take guys’ bullshit, and instead, serves up a serving of bullshit in her own right into my willing, horny mouth.
Despite ALL that, having every reason in the world to break it off with her, she dumps me, citing the “loss of her life and happiness.” And it’s me that cries. Right in front of her. Like a little 15-year-old bitch.
But it’s probably good that it ended. There’s not much you can do with a relationship based solely on sport fucking.
But I guess the real question is, what now? What does my future hold?
October 26, 1994
How could it be that I’m 69 years old, and I have a problem with being outgoing – with a bunch of fucking teenagers. I mean, seriously? I’m shy and eager to impress 15 year olds?
I should be socially dominating these fools. I should be one step ahead of all of them because I have a lifetime of experience that they don’t. But I’m too concerned with appearing “cool”. And I need to keep reminding myself that they are actually MY AGE. Just younger looking. Like I’m younger looking. Fuck, this all just confusing.
But I digress --- here’s the deal. I miss my wife. I’m obsessed with it. I mean, I remember her phone number still. After all these years, I remember the phone number she had in high school. I remember that it “rhymed”. 979-5885. And she thought mine rhymed too. 977-7484. Yeah, we were dorky like that.
And I must admit, I called her once. And I heard her voice. Her 13 year old voice but I could still tell it was her. And I said nothing. I thanked God this was the time before Caller ID and I hung up.
I’ve been sitting alone imagining what it would be like to be with her right now. She used to tell me stories about what she was like in middle school. My middle school stories were steeped in hardship, pain and a lot of instances of getting my ass kicked by homies from the west side.
Hers, however, were different. She said she was one of the first girls to get boobs, and that really impacted everything. She was rocking a full C-cup by age 12 and had swelled to a D by 13. And she said she hadn’t started to gain weight until about 15 or 16 (when I first met her, she was about 180 or so and 15, and most of the weight had to be in her tits). So that means that somewhere out there was my future wife, with a skinny waist and a pair of freshly sprouted D-cups. Fuck, I get hard just thinking about it.
But all I have is fantasies, I suppose.
I imagine that I do get the balls to call her, and after showing some insights into what makes her her, since I know her inside and out anyway, I get a date with her.
Then I “meet” her. I arrive at her house, the house I already know for obvious reasons. I imagine myself laying eyes on her 13-year-old form that more looks like a 19-year-old underwear model. She has her light brown hair (pre numerous dye jobs over the years!), those little chubby cheeks and that tiny, cute mouth that was her trademark, a perfect smile, and the biggest pair of heart-melting brown eyes.
Then the fun part. My wife. Wearing that size 4 she always told me about back in 8th grade. Wearing a 34D bra. Her tits looking monstrous on her small frame. Rocking that body that she said got her asked out by 20 guys in the 8th grade – and she turned all of them down.
Then I take her out on a date. Likely to a show or something, since I know she loves musicals --- it was kind of our thing (I know it’s gay, but I loved making her happy, and there’s nothing like post-Les Miserables head!)
But I’d be deflowering her. She didn’t lose her virginity until she was 15 (not to me --- some other fuckface). So I’d have to work up to it. She was so shy at that time, so I’d kiss her lightly, show her attention without asking for anything in return. Kiss her on her little lips, slip my tongue into her apprehensive mouth, a little like penetrating her for the first time as she received that very first kiss.
Then I’d move down to her neck. It was always her button. I’d lick, lick again, then bite. HARD. It always sent her through the roof. Then work my way up to her ear lobe, biting her there and sticking my tongue in her ear. She was strange --- she always loved the more sloppy insertion of my tongue into her ear as opposed to the more surgical entrance.
Then her upper back --- she loved to be touched lightly there with the tips of my fingers. She’d literally purr like a cat – and it was the final move to make her wetter than a water park.
Then I’d work my way down to her top. Now that she trusted me to focus my attention on her and make her feel good, which was such a big deal to her since she had major trust issues with the men in her life, an asshole stepdad and brother to deal with, she loved it when anybody made it about HER.
I’d lift that top and expose her bra, and behold those fucking monsters sitting high and perky on her chest, newly grown in. Her epic cleavage dipping down. And if her action as an adult was any indication, she probably mis-sized her bra, meaning she probably wore a DD at 13 but she couldn’t find one. She always overflowed out of EVERY bra.
I’d lick at her overflowing titflesh, penetrating my tongue down her awe-inspiring line of cleavage. Then I’d lift the bra up, letting those puppies fall free and exposing those perfect nipples I remember. A lovely hue of dark pink and areola that were impossibly big. On her full grown F-cups, her areolas were probably the size of a CD, and her nipples itself were giant. I loved sucking on them until they hardened like crystals and were an inch long. Hell, I remember her not being able to breast feed our kids simply because her nipples were too big for a baby’s mouth!
Then I’d expose her pussy, probably barely being populated with hair, freshly pink, with that cute little mole I remember right in the middle of her pubic forest, appearing more prominent now. Scratch that --- she never shaved in our whole marriage so I’ll imagine her freshly shaved.
I dip my tongue down to her pussy and give her that feast that I always gave her. I’d lick that Alphabet with my tongue, which always made her crawl up the walls. Even imagining her moans right now, it’s enough to make me cry. God I miss her so much. I miss her old dusty ass. Fuck!
But I’m looking down now, and imaging fucking the busty 13-year-old version of my wife has gotten me impossibly hard.
Jerking off with a huge cock is such a different thing now. I used to just wrap my hand around it, my head barely sticking out past my thumb, and just jacking as fast I could.
Now, as weird as it sounds, I can’t do that anymore. I kind of have to wine and dine myself, if you will. Since I have room for two hands (fuck, I have room for four hands), I can do an ambidextrous masturbation session – and it certainly feels so much better!
First, I can’t explain the feeling of having a full 12 inches of you feel hard instead of just 3 or 4. It’s almost too much to take. And I get so fucking rock hard. It’s always been my talent, I guess. And to still be able to do this now that I’m so big is awesome. I loved pressing on the top of my cock head, right at the entry of my piss hole, and feeling the peak of my erection bone there. I’d press down hard and send shock waves of pleasure and pain up and down my shaft.
And the damn thing was so veiny now since it needed so much blood to get hard. It was like having another pair of balls or something, as weird as that sounds. You know that feeling you get when you rub your balls lightly while you’re jerking off? Your cock veins have the same affect. The best is when you push your hard cock backward, creating the most tension and pressure, and making those veins bulge. Then you lightly trace your veins slowly with your fingers and it feels just like you’re rubbing your balls. Fuck, that feels so good.
I go back and forth between being light about how I handle myself, and being rough. When I’m rough, I’d grab with both hands, and the fact that I wasn’t even close at getting my hand all the way around it would just make me harder. And I’d put one hand at the base and another near the head. Then I’d jack, twisting as I went to milk it. Usually, a combination of going hard at the top while going softer at the base was the best combination.
And I can’t stress how much of a fucking turn on it is to look down at your cock, know it’s YOUR cock and see how fucking big it is. It’s a sight I’ve imagined my whole life and now, here it is. Daily. For the taking. I’m not gay, as the idea of ever interacting with another man’s cock was just disgusting, but I always loved the look of a huge, fucking throbbing cock, and I always juxtaposed that huge cock I’d see in a porn or something onto my body. I always wanted that power that a huge cock brings. And now I had it. I had a big cock to finally go along with my already existing talents of shooting endless ropes feet into the air, my ability to will a woman to orgasm without even getting my cock involved. I loved having the ultimate sexual finale. It made me drunk with power.
I suppose that’s a perfect segue way to the reason I started writing like 10 pages ago – to tell the story about how I’m becoming this strange awkward legend at my school.
I’ll go back to the outgoing thing. My first time around, I couldn’t talk to girls. I can’t explain it, but I accepted it as a fact that I would never get a girlfriend. Like it was something not meant for me. I was never anywhere close to even getting a girlfriend.
This time around, hooking up with Amanda changed everything. At least as far as giving me an “image.” My image is of “the guy with a big cock who’s also a weird nerd.” I’d read enough dirty stories and watched enough porn that I was completely expecting that once the school found out about my cock, all the girls would be overcome and want to fuck me.
And yeah… that hasn’t happened.
Oddly enough, the word hasn’t spread like I thought. Much too taboo of a thing to talk about, I guess. And since she broke up with me, a lot of people had theories it was a lie anyway. Like it was something Amanda made up to justify dating a geek like me. But what HASN’T gotten around, like, at all, is the fact that I KNOW HOW TO FUCK. I know what I can do to Amanda and what I can do to all girls. Hell, I was like that the first time around in life with a teeny tiny dick. As long as I was able to actually GET THE GIRL to be with me, once I had her, she was fucking mush and speaking my praises. And it was very common for me to have a girl pine for my dumb ass after we broke up. She missed how much I made her cum and how I made her feel.
Now I have that sexual power, but to the power of 10. And NOBODY FUCKING KNOWS ABOUT IT! I was hoping everybody would just find out. Who knew that Amanda was so tight-lipped?
I’ve had a couple instances of girls asking me if it was “really that big.” And I’d try to use that as a jumping off point to create a hookup.
Turns out that was just a pervy move. And that was DEFINITELY the kind of stuff that made it around the school.
So let me amend: I’m a “geek, with a huge cock (probably), who tries way too hard to get girls and is a huge fucking pervert. I mean, did you hear how he propositioned Christina? God!”
Hence all my pining for my wife. Because the every day sucks, I’m questioning my appeal to teenagers and I’m still awkward – just like I always was – with girls and friends.
And that’s what created the latest occurrence. Meredith Johnson and Jill Clark.
Meredith Johnson was a teenage boy’s wet dream. In high school, she probably had the biggest tits and the most curvy body. While Pam Martinez was petite with huge tits, Meredith was taller, probably 5’7”, with wider hips but probably bigger tits. They were like a cup size or two larger than softballs. Their roundness were the biggest feature --- If she were older, you’d assume she had breast implants. That’s how perfectly round they were. Yet, they somehow seemed vaguely proportional to her body. Add to it that she was a blonde with big brown eyes, and yeah, you get it.
My first time around high school, Meredith had this other blonde friend of hers, and that was Jill. I’d always see her on my way home from school, walking with Meredith. And Jill would proposition me. I’d walk by her and she’d fucking proposition me. It was the craziest thing and it scared me to death. I’m sure she did it just to fuck with me and see my reaction. And my reaction was to get scared, put my head down, and walk/run away.
So I’m walking near the parking lot, and who do I see? Meredith and her forward friend. And she propositions me.
“Hey hot stuff,” Jill said to me. “How about you and me get together after school?”
And my reaction was --- well --- you judge for yourself: I proceeded to look at her, stop in my tracks --- and put my head down and walk/run away.
Like seriously. WHAT THE FUCK!?
I didn’t think on my toes quickly enough to take the bait – or at least have fun with it – since I had been so sullen and weird lately.
But then it occurred to me. She did it to me again. I remembered her propositioning me a couple times back in the day, so that meant she would do it to me again. Of course, I reacted the same each time, but this time around, I was going to change that.
I walked by the parking lot at the same time each day, as the episode always happened in the same place. First day – nothing. Second day – nothing. This went on the same until the sixth day – yesterday. She was back again and again, she asked for my attention.
“Hey stud!” Jill said. “Come here. Talk to me.”
Jackpot. I stopped what I was doing. Went right over to her.
“Absolutely. I’d talk to you and your striking friend as long as you’d like.”
They both blushed. I was getting somewhere with this.
“I’m Jill. And this is Meredith. We were both talking about how we thought you were SOOO HOT!” They said it while stifling a laugh. This was obviously a joke to them. I had to turn the tables.
“You know, I was just thinking the same thing about the two of you,” I said. “But then I told myself, you know, when I look at these two girls, there is no way that… they’re hot enough for me.”
That changed the expressions on their faces.
“Excuse me?” Jill said.
“Yeah. Like, when I fuck girls, I usually bang girls waaaay hotter than you two.”
Now, they were pissed. Jill kept doing the talking.
“There is no way you can get any girl to fuck you, let alone girls as hot as us.”
I just scoffed at them and looked away.
“Whatever. Later!” And I turned my back and walked away. I know this was a gamble. But I was sure it was going to work. You don’t question a hot chick’s hotness. She’ll always have to prove…
…it. Meredith was the one yelling out at me, and I heard Jill whisper something to her, like she was yelling at her under her breath.
“Who have you, you know, been with, then?” Meredith said, almost chaste. It was so hard to look her in her eyes. She was wearing a thick sweater, but the sheer size of her tits stretched the material so where you could see the white fabric of what was probably a camisole peeking out through the holes of the material. They were so fucking huge. I snuck a peek at Jill and she was good looking in her own right, but didn’t compare to Meredith. She was kind of a “butter face” as she had a pasty, plain looking face with acne and all that, but had a nice head of bleach blonde hair and a pretty kicking body. I’d estimate she was a size 10 or 12 with at least a C cup.
I laughed. “Listen, I’m a gentleman and I’ll never kiss and tell. I have more respect for my ex than that. I know that makes it sound like I’m lying about it, but trust me, the girl I was with, we had a pretty bitchin’ time.”
Jill said, “So, tell us about it. Give us details.”
I smiled and laughed. “Naw, maybe some other time.”
“Pleeeasssee?” Meredith asked.
I couldn’t say no to this goddess. I had to keep this up.
“Okay. I’ll tell. Promise not to laugh, OK?”
“Well, the thing is, I have a really big dick.”
They laughed like idiots. “OK, dude, whatever.”
“I’m serious. It’s a really important part of the story.” They rolled their eyes. “So, I’m in gym class, and I am wearing a new, snug pair of gym shorts. And she notices. And she’s really hot. Way out of my league. But she just keeps staring.”
They seemed to be weirded out by how dismissive I was about the “big dick” fact. “What do you mean?” Jill asked. “How big are we talking?”
“Big enough to notice,” I said, and they immediately darted their eyes down. With this newly big cock of mine, when I was soft, it was the kind of big that you only really noticed if you were looking for it. If you were looking for it, though, you definitely noticed.
And, yeah. THEY NOTICED. I continued my story.
“So anyway, she pulls me aside and asks me how big my cock was, one thing leads to another, and we had sex behind the school.”
“And that’s it?”
“Well, she dumped her boyfriend for me, we hooked up, we fucked like jackrabbits. One time, we even fucked at a hotel pool in front of these old people. That was interesting…”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling us everything?”
“I’m a guy. I don’t go into detail.” Then I made my move. I rubbed my hand down Jill’s arm and looked at Meredith. “If you’re super curious, you could always find out for yourself.”
They looked at each other, trying to communicate wordlessly with just their eyes. Then I decided I’d leave them hanging.
“Eh, I’m just messing with you. I’ll see you guys later, huh?”
And I walked off. Sowed the seeds for the future, I did.
Then today came. They came looking for ME.
“So, Charlie, was it?” Meredith asked.
“Yeah. Hi Meredith. Jill.”
“Well, I live around here,” Meredith told me. “Just two blocks away. Maybe the three of us could, you know, spend lunch at my house later today?”
I thought about it for a second. Wow, girls really are easy at this age.
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
It was so damned funny how the upper hand had been changed, with the girls going from bitches trying to play a trick on me to needy, insecure girls asking for a hookup.
Lunch came and Jill, Meredith and I went to walking. It was pretty amazing that I had somehow gotten a couple of fucking juniors to go along with this. That is like high school sorcery.
“So,” I began as we trekked to Meredith’s house. “What do you want to do when we get to your house?” I asked, feigning innocence. I wanted them to say it. To ask for it. To beg for it.
Meredith laughed. “Nothingggg….” She said. Jill was much more fidgety today than she was yesterday. She was the one not talking now.
“Well, you’re the host, Meredith,” I said. “I’ll let you decide on the entertainment.” She just blushed and giggled.
We arrived at her house and we settled in the living room. There was awkward silence so I had to break it. “So, what do you want to do?”
They smiled at each other. “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Jill asked. Fuck, these chicks were a train wreck. I suppose I had to take the lead. First, a quick test.
“Can I maybe get something to drink?” I asked. “Maybe a beer?” I whispered. They smiled and both of them practically knocked each other over fetching my beer. Now these are my kind of girls!
All three of us now had a beer and were just looking at each other.
“Want to play a game?” I asked. Still had to move this thing along.
“Maybe a little truth or dare?” Why not? It always worked in porn, dirty stories, and cheesy teen movies.
They giggled and nodded. Let the games begin!
“OK, Jill. Truth or dare?”
OK, I had to make it a good one, but work my way up to the really good stuff. “So did you really think I was hot and wanted to talk to me earlier, or were you just fucking with me?”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I --- uh, was playing a joke on you.” Yeah, I knew it. Either way, I pretended to be sad. “But I’m not joking with you now. After talking to you, and, you know, if everything you’ve told us is true, I don’t know. I think you are cute now.”
“OK, that’s fair. Your turn, Meredith. Truth or dare?”
Up the intensity. “Have you ever sucked a guy’s dick before?”
She giggled and then looked at Jill, who also giggled. “Once. There was this one guy. And me and Jill wanted to mess with him, so….” She giggled again. “We kissed each other and he got really turned on, then we got really turned on, and one thing led to another and we kind of took turns sucking on it. But I’ve never sucked a dick on my own.”
I looked at both of them, kind of shocked. I let that smile form on my face, then let it change to an inquisitive look. “Hmm, very interesting…”
“OK, Charlie,” Meredith said. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
I wanted the good stuff to happen, so…
“Eh, what the hell. Dare!” I waited with baited breath for what they would come up with.
Meredith smiled nice and big. “I dare you to show us your dick.” Yeah, pretty much what I expected.
“OK. I suppose I asked for that. You guys sure you’re ready? It’s pretty big.”
“Just fucking get it out already!” Jill said.
“Jesus you girls are pushy!” I stood up and began to unbutton.
“Look,” Meredith whispered to Jill. “You can already see it.”
I just smiled and began to unzip. I reached into my pants and fished my soft cock out. Their eyes got so unbelievably wide.
“Oh. My. God,” Jill said. Meredith’s mouth was just agape. “How the fuck to do you walk around with that thing?” Jill asked.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I just do.”
“Oh my god, Mer, it’s not even hard!” As they said that, it began to get hard. It was pretty obvious – it kind of bounced and suddenly grew like 2 or 3 inches as it began to make its way toward its ultimate length. They both just let out this half lustful laugh when they saw it move.
“OK, girls. Your turn. Jill, truth or dare.” Jill did nothing.
“Jill?” I asked.
“Jill!” Meredith yelled.
“Oh, sorry,” Jill said. “Just kind of, you know, FUCK!” she said, her eyes glued to my cock.
“Truth or dare?” I asked. As I did, I began to put myself away. “NO!” Jill snapped. “Don’t put it away. Keep it out for us?”
I pretended to ponder her request before keeping it out. “OK, I suppose. So, the question remains, truth or dare.”
“Uhhh, truth?” Well shit! Had to get some good info out of this one. “What is your and Meredith’s bra sizes?”
Meredith smiled. “You like boobs, don’t you?”
“Eh, who doesn’t. So, Jill, what’s the answer?”
Then Jill gave the most inspired answer I could imagine. “You could always check for yourself.” Meredith looked at her with total indignation. She said WHAT???
“How will he do that?” Meredith asked.
“Easy. Just turn around and let him check the tag on the back of your bra.” Holy fuck, this was going to be awesome.
They both turned around, and I went to Jill first. I began to flip the back of her bra over so I could read the tag. Then I decided, what the fuck, let’s go for it. I placed my fingers on the bra so I could undo all three hooks of her bra with one pinch.
“Oh, fuck. I didn’t mean to do that,” I said. Then I looked. “I see they’re a 36C though. Respect.”
“Hehe, my turn!” Meredith announced. Damn, she was getting into this.
Fuck, I have spent an entire lifetime wondering the answer to this question: What are the size of Meredith Johnson’s tits? I couldn’t even ponder the “What do Meredith Johnson’s tits look like?” question.
So I moved over to her. My cock immediately started lengthening. As it grew, it hit the top of her exposed back as I placed both hands on her bra back.
“Oooh, what was that really hot thing that touched my back?” she asked. She knew. I knew she knew. So I just got harder.
I tried for the same move. I placed my fingers on each side of the snap and they were too fucking tightly wound. I couldn’t open her bra.
“Here,” Meredith said. “Let me help you.”
She turned around and lifted her sweater over her tits. Holy fuck, were they huge. Fuck softballs. Maybe closer to basketballs.
She reached behind her back and finished unhooking. Then she released her tits, and oh my fucking God.
They barely sagged as they were so fucking full. Easily wider than her chest. Her areola were big but very light, and her nipples were small and a shade darker. But fuck, those tits were exquisite. She handed me her bra with a smile.
“36F? Fuck.” I said exasperated.
“So, I think it’s my turn,” Meredith announced.
I was so flustered, it took me a moment to collect myself. “OK, what…”
Fuck, she was so into this. I pondered whether I let this escalate more slowly or more go for the kill.
“OK. I dare you to make out with each other just for my sheer enjoyment.” Hell, they did it once before apparently, right?
They giggled, and approached each other. Wrapping their arms around each other, they began to kiss each other lightly. You can tell Meredith was way more into it. Wow, what a change from a girl who seemed like the shy one at first.
They pulled apart and Meredith looked at me with a sultry smile. “Your turn… and you better fucking say ‘dare’.”
“Alright then. Dare it is.”
“You fucking do everything to us that you did to your little girlfriend.”
And that, my friend, is how I found myself in my first threesome.
We became a sea of hands and stripped each other’s clothes off. I paid particular attention to Jill’s rack, and her tits were nice, with silver dollar sized areola, medium brown, and thick, dominant nipples. But they were still nothing compared to Meredith’s epic, gravity-defying monsters. Needless to say, I was rock hard. Jill was the first one to grab hold of it.
“Fuck, Charlie. How big is this thing?”
“It’s about 12 inches,” I said, which produced a chorus of “wows” from the girls. “You see this, Mer,” Jill said. “We have a real life 12-inch cock to play with.”
“Yeah,” I said. “You can fucking tell your grandkids about it.” They both grabbed it at this point and they just looked at each other. They both put both of their hands on it, and before I knew it, I was getting a four-handed handjob. Un. Fucking. Believable.
A four-handed handjob is a bit awkward, as both girls take turns switching hand positions and deciding whether they should twist with each stroke or not, but once they settle on technique, holy fuck. It’s hard to explain what it feels like having four hands on our cock at once, gripping it like vices. It’s even harder to explain what it feels like when two tongues simultaneously touch your cock head in unison.
Neither of them blew particularly well. They couldn’t do much more than maneuver the head into their mouths. But they did lots of licking up and down the shaft, and that is just an unreal sensation.
I had been waiting for a chance like this forever, not only for obvious reasons, but I wanted to test my ability to multitask. I then took it upon myself to directly respond to Meredith’s dare, and do to them what I did to Amanda. In short – make them cum everywhere.
I began by kissing Meredith all over to map out her spots. At the same time, I lightly ran my fingers up and down Jill’s nearby body. It was tough paying attention to two girls at once, but I did discover that licking Meredith in the area right under the collar bone was key, as well as her mammoth fucking tits, which seemed to be two giant clits sitting on her chest, they were so sensitive.
With Jill, it was all about her midsection. Stomach, love handles, bellybutton, small of her back. And gentle. That’s what she liked.
So I took turns paying attention to each money area. Then I lowered myself to Meredith’s twat, kissing her thighs before digging in. And while I did that, I kept up my finger action on Jill, now focusing on her thighs. Both of them were moaning up a storm.
“Holy shit, baby,” Meredith said. “You’re so good at that. Right there. Keep it there.”
With my free hand, I dug my thumb into Meredith’s asshole without warning and ramped up my attention to her clit, even somewhat nosefucking her as I buried deep. And she came HARD. Her juices sprayed into my mouth and drank down as much as I could.
I immediately went up to Jill and said “Come here. Kiss me and taste your best friend’s pussy,” and I grabbed an apprehensive Jill, who resisted but eventually settled into the dirty kiss. Then I moved down on her, and though my normal pussy-eating techniques didn’t have the same affect on Jill, I upped the ante by focusing more on her asshole. I licked her taint for starters and she immediately perked up. I moved down to give her a rim job and holy fuck, that was the spot. I alternated between fingering her pussy and licking her asshole, then back to pussy eating and penetrating her little starfish.
With them all mapped out, I wanted to try my ultimate fantasy.
I got on my back and told Jill to get on my cock while I ate Meredith’s pussy. But Jill got scared, saying she didn’t want to fuck, just play. But Meredith didn’t care. She was long gone and just wanted to feel a huge, hard cock.
Jill settled her pussy over my mouth and pointed her body toward Meredith, who was ready to be impaled. As I began the strokes of my tongue, Meredith grabbed me and aimed my cock in her dripping wet pussy.
“Oh my fucking god!” Yeah, it was me that yelled out that time. Meredith, for being a slightly bigger girl (at least bigger than Amanda) was fucking TIGHT TIGHT. It took us like three minutes to negotiate my cock into her pussy enough to begin thrusting.
Meanwhile, I began working up a rhythm with Jill, switching back and forth from pleasuring her asshole to pleasuring her pussy. It was having the expected affect. I spotted her thigh spasming. She was getting close.
I saw both girls holding onto each other from my vantage point for leverage, and my level of focus was unparalleled. I was going to make both girls pop. My mind was switching back and forth from finding the right speed and location for my tongue, applying the proper pressure and licking that fucking Alphabet while thrusting my impossibly big cock ever higher into Meredith’s wanting pussy.
Both were moaning and I was probably harder than I had ever been in my life.
Then it finally happened --- Jill’s breathing started to get a crescendo to it. Meredith’s followed suit. Here it came. With my left index finger buried in Jill’s asshole, my tongue slamming down on her clit and my right hand on Jill’s tits, waiting for the periodic bounces of Meredith’s tits to make a titty sandwich, Jill flooded my mouth with her juices as she moaned loud enough to make the neighbors hear with a low-pitched, guttural wail.
Meredith’s moans were more high-pitched and girlish, and when she popped, she screamed. I felt a steady stream of fluid cascade down my cock as she came. I removed my finger from Jill’s asshole and grabbed her around her front along her stomach. I did the same with my right arm and grabbed Meredith around her back, holding them tightly as I continued my gyrations through their orgasms.
I can’t believe it… I did it! I made two girls cum at once! Top of the world, ma!
I was so focused on pleasuring them, I wasn’t really close myself, so I told them to get off and get on their knees as I nutted on their face. Once that cum starting moving up my cock, I made sure I fucking drenched them. I counted off 14 ropes in all – each plastering their faces in a full glaze.
“Fuck, Charlie,” Jill said. “You came like a gallon worth of stuff.”
“OK, girls, Truth or Dare? What’s that, Jill? Dare? You too, Meredith? OK, lick my fucking cum off of each other’s faces and make out with each other.” I was a fucking rabid wolverine barking out commands – and they happily acquiesced.
I witnessed the most beautiful sight of them licking each other clean, then kissing each other with open tongues before both attacked my cock yet again to suck any excess off of my softening member.
So going back to my original question in this journal entry – yes, I’m still shy and eager to impress 15 year olds, but 16 and 17 year olds don’t seem to pose as big a problem.
And then my secondary question – I so longed to do to my wife what I did to them, letting her feel what it was like to fuck the man she loved with a big giant cock and cum everywhere – they way she deserved.
So as I lay here, with empty balls and still smelling like 16 year old pussy, I will close my eyes, say a prayer, and hope that someday, I will still experience her love.
November 1, 1994
It’s far too easy to become a depressed, angsty teen. Because after everything that happened last week, impaling Meredith and Jill like I did, it meant jack squat because here I sit, early morning the night after Halloween, and I didn’t get invited to a single Halloween party.
I kind of figured that the Meredith/Jill thing would open up a whole new world to me, giving me access to another world of chicks who would find out about my big cock and want to sample it for their very own. But alas, it never came to be. While I became more widely known for my cock than anything else, it’s not like it opened up ANY doors. Not a single one. Not a single girl barking up my tree asking about it, giving me come hither looks and drooling in my general direction.
Then it occurred to me WHY I’m not getting any play – I’m still a nerd nobody.
But I have something to my advantage. First, I’m going to play baseball, and that can only help. Girls have a weakness for guys in that uniform. And second, it just now occurred to me that I can tell the fucking future!
I guess it just took me a while to realize this. But I know everything about what’s going to happen. I know the Oklahoma City bombing is going to happen next year. I know Clinton is going to get his ass handed to him in the elections in a couple days. And I know the upcoming trends. I know which bands are GOING to make it. I can be at the cutting edge of everything.
Tomorrow, I plan on beginning my transformation.
Until then, Love Always,
November 3, 1994
I just came back from the mall after asking my mom for $100. So I went shopping for band shirts and CDs, and though it didn’t get me too far, the self-titled “Weezer” album, Green Day’s “Dookie” and good for me, I already owned the cassette tape for “The Downward Spiral” by Nine Inch Nails and “Superunknown” by Soundgarden. That pretty much covered all my favorite stuff of the year.
Then I had to adjust my look. I opted to go for that Green Day-ish 90’s punk look. I dyed my hair blonde, got three or four band t-shirts, and spent my last $20 on shit from Goodwill.
Now, I’m fully aware that the guys that dress like this aren’t exactly “popular.” But here’s my rationale.
Number one, I was always an “alternative” kind of guy. I dig that music, I was always counter-culture in everything I did, and though I never fully belonged to any “group”, it was easier to fit in with them than any other group, including the guys on the baseball team.
Two, I know the guys on the baseball team actually don’t give a shit about anything but baseball. Social wise, they’re probably the most accepting of any of the jocks, so they’ll ignore or tolerate the fact that I’ve gone all alternative.
And then there’s third – I needed to target Niki Lorrie. Niki was about a year away from beginning to hang out with the group I always labeled as the “popular skaters.” She did this while playing softball on the side and eventually moving on from cheerleading. It was funny --- she was part of a group that proudly referred to themselves as “The Ex Cheerleaders,” or cheerleaders who were on the squad… until they came to the age of reason. But Niki kind of played with both groups --- the alternative guys and the ballplayers.
But my overall focus – make friends with GUYS. The girls will come once I attach myself to some group through a few dudes.
So Monday, I plan on arriving to school with my new outfit --- my dyed blonde hair, my Green Day shirt and torn jeans. I hope it’s not too much of a departure from my previous wardrobe, which was pretty much T-shirts, Kurt Cobain flannels and torn jeans. So it shouldn’t cause alarm. Later, I plan on some piercings, which I was too much of a pussy to get my first time around in life.
I also put a request to get back into graphic arts next semester. My plan --- make an endless stream of hipster T-shirts that really set me apart.
So, let the games begin!
November 6, 1994
As the country readies itself for the “Republican Revolution” tonight, I am already noticing my plan working.
First, I realized I hadn’t been putting out the most effort with the guys on the baseball team, so I joined them for the first time for offseason conditioning. I was worried that it would be weird because I was such a weakling and never lifted weights, but they were really cool about it. They’re completely okay with me going slow and working my way up. Because, by helping me, they help the team. They said I already have pretty good tools at the plate, and my bat speed is one of the best on the team. If I could get some actual muscle behind it, then who knows what is possible!
Then, there was making friends with the popular skaters. That was going to be a bit trickier. Because, they were all very anti-jock. Just like the “ex-cheerleaders”, a lot of them were ex-football players. Fuck that, I was going to play baseball and there was nothing anybody could say about it.
But I did have two of them in my history class, Aaron Patrick and Greg Krowkowski, so when the class had to break off for a group project, I asked to be in Aaron and Greg’s group. They readily accepted, since we were the only weirdoes in class dressed like the weirdoes we were.
Each group had a decade to do, and ours was the 1920s, and that was an era I loved and knew like the back of my hand. So I really didn’t mind being the guy that kind of did most of the project, so I made the deal with them that if I came up with the ideas, they’d actually put together the poster board and all that. I educated each of them with something to talk about, and since Aaron was an ex-football player, he was at least interested in the rise of the NFL in 1921 and would talk about that. Greg was a music geek so I told him about the rise of jazz and how it was “the devil’s music” according to the parents of that time.
And I would take literature and baseball. And we’d all talk about the mob.
Since there was no such thing as “Boardwalk Empire” yet, I suggested we dress up in suave ass suits, looking like mobsters, and tell the Nucky Thompson story.
They didn’t want to do the outfit thing so much, but since Pulp Fiction had just come out, I told them we could play it like badasses and use some lines from the movie and they dug that. Though I told them I wanted to perform Ezekiel 23:17. I told them we’d hit Goodwill one day and buy some suits.
We have plans in the coming days to get together and work on the project at each other’s houses, and I think it will be a good deal.
Until then, Love Always,
December 30, 1994
I’m sorry I haven’t written in such a long time, but I’ve just been so busy with stuff --- and busy with friends!
After our group project, Aaron, Greg and I began hanging out a lot more. We realized we were into the same things and, let’s be honest, our presentation kind of created the things of legend.
First off, we dressed as much like Pulp Fiction as we could. Black suits with shirts and black ties. Greg’s hair was already dark and long so he was Vincent Vega. I found myself an afro wig at Goodwill so I was Jules Winnfield. And thankfully, Aaron was shameless, so he was Mia Wallace. That was fucking hilarious seeing him in a Mia Wallace blouse.
We decided to talk about only a few things and act out a few special scenes. So Aaron talked about the decade in sports and Babe Ruth and all that, then we started with literature. I talked about literature and Hemingway and Fitzgerald, how they lived in Paris and all that and how Hemingway loved bullfighting. Then we led into jazz and how they influenced the writers and artists.
Then we broke out into dance. Greg as Vincent Vega danced with Aaron as Mia Wallace, just as they did in the movie and it was the funniest damn thing. Then I talked about the mob and prohibition and how the killing was rampant. I told the story of Nucky Thompson and the rise of organized crime and Al Capone and all that. Then we acted out a mob killing scene, claiming that cornered men would often be greeted with a cold-hearted speech before they were shot. So I grabbed a gun, aimed it at Greg, who was cowering in the corner, while Aaron stood by. And I whipped out my speech:
“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who in the name of charity and goodwill shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.”
And then Aaron pressed play on a boom box that had the Pulp Fiction theme song synched up. And I shot at Greg. End of presentation.
Our classmates loved it and everybody thought it was awesome.
So the notoriety immediately raised all of our social profiles. Two girls in particular started hanging out with us.
The first was Jessica Bregar. “JB” as we called her soon grew up to be a trashy, fat thing. But at this age, she was still pretty hot. She hadn’t gotten fat yet, but she was a bit wide-hipped, still with a flat stomach. But it was in the 10th grade that her tits really filled out before the rest of her body caught up. So she now had her hair dyed punk rock blonde, was about 5’8” and 160, with solid pair of D or maybe DD tits. Her eyes were big and brown and her most prominent feature was her mouth. She had full, pink lips and a wide smile. And she cussed like a fucking sailor. She was pretty bad ass.
The second girl was Dominique Lozello. Dominique was a fucking knockout who I had first met in 9th grade, also in that biology class I met Niki (there were so many hot girls in that class). Dominique wasn’t my total cup of tea back then because she was Hispanic, and I just liked white girls better (yeah, call me racist). But she had a crazy good body. She was about 5’1” and was petite and skinny. But she also brought a great rack to the party, probably a small C-cup or a large B that looked fucking huge on her tiny frame.
When I first met her, I know she gave me every opportunity to be friends with her, but that was my first time around high school and I was too shy to do anything about it. When I was her lab partner, she talked to me about her boyfriend, boys that liked her, when her boyfriend dumped her, asked me what girls I liked and what I looked for in girls. Looking back, I think she might have liked me and I was too thick and scared to notice.
Toward the end of 9th grade, I remember she showed up to class once in an outfit that fucking blew my mind. She was wearing a brown denim jacket, which covered what I could only explain as a bra. I mean, seriously. It was a red and black plaid thing that wore like a tube top, reaching only under her breasts, but definitely having cups like a bra. I never saw what was under the jacket, so I assume it was a spaghetti strap thing or something. But her entire flat, six-packed cheerleader stomach was exposed. And her fucking cleavage was spilling out all over the top. I damn near got a full boner the second after laying eyes on it.
The outfit was such a scandal, as not only did her parents allow her out of the house like that, she was ordered home after second hour to dress in something less distracting. But I was lucky enough to lay eyes on it before it got replaced.
Now, Dominique was definitely a proud “Ex-Cheerleader,” as well as an ex softball player, leaving that world behind to become full-blown alt-rock. She had gotten piercings, both in her nose and the top of her ears, and began wearing black band T-shirts all the time and torn jeans. But unlike most girls that took on this wardrobe choice, her preferred get-up was usually to tie the shirts in a knot at the bottom 80’s style and show off that fucking picture perfect stomach.
As of now, there’s been a lot of flirting, but nothing has happened yet. The last girl, or should I say, girls, I had been with were still Meredith and Jill. Aaron and Greg, as well as JB and Dominique, each had heard about it. I didn’t bring it up myself. They had heard at least two facts: that I had had sex with two girls at once and that I was hung - ridiculously hung.
We would all get on the subjects of sex, as 15-year-olds normally do, and I’d talk about my experiences, and talk about Amanda and Meredith and Jill. Aaron was still a virgin and Greg had been with one girl he had dated his freshman year. And between the three of us guys, we were still feeling out the intentions of Jessica and Dominique – and couldn’t get a straight answer from either of them if they were virgins or not. Jessica would probably have either of the three of us that asked. Dominique was a bit trickier. She knew she was hot, and to be honest, she was kind of a bitch. She kind of reminded me of Jennifer Lopez – very full of herself, very knowledgeable about the fact that EVERY guy wanted to fuck her, and it meant she had carte blanche to be bitchy to get her way whenever she wanted.
How I wanted to just fuck the shit out of her to turn her personality inside out!
The closest I got with either of them was when JB was hanging out with all of us at lunch one day. We went outside and hung out on the grass in front of the school, and while I was sitting down, she laid her head in my lap and used by thighs as a pillow in a very casual manner. I kind of froze up, but just rolled with it.
She kept looking up at me from time to time while we were talking, and then I decided to make the move to run my fingers through her short, curly dyed blonde hair. She closed her eyes as I did that and I swear I heard a few very soft moans.
It was enough to set me off as my cock began to grown and snake down my leg. It wasn’t long until my cock grew to and past her ear, and she felt it move and pulsate. She smiled and looked up at me. And being the casual girl she is, she just fucking grabbed it. In front of everybody! She pinched it twice and even stroked it for a pump.
“Well well, the legend about Big Chuck is fucking true, huh?” I just laughed it off, but never really pushed the issue. I figured she could just come to me. It’s always hotter that way anyway.
Problem was, I’M FUCKING HORNY! It’s been like two months since I got laid. I figured I have to do something soon.
Tomorrow, though, I will be going to my first high school party on New Year’s Eve, if you can believe it. Dominique’s parents are letting us have a party at her house for us and several people from school. Should be a great time as not only will Jessica and Dominique be there, but so will some other girls! Dominique’s parents will be hiding in the basement so we should be able to do whatever we want upstairs. I’m excited!
January 1, 1995
I so went about this whole high school thing all wrong my first time around!
The New Year’s Party was a rousing success and I’m fully confident now that my reputation is complete.
To start things off, I actually got my older brother to agree to buy us some vodka so we could spike the punch. That really got the party going as I think as I think about half of us were fucking gone within an hour.
Then there were the fucking girls that showed up. Dominique got so many “ex cheerleaders” to show up that the place became a fucking pussy buffet.
First, I can start off with one participant at the party: Amanda Geary. Yes, she had been doing her own thing since breaking up with me, and I was very surprised to see her. But she was apparently friends with Dominique, and she loved to fucking party, so here she was.
And she showed up without a date.
One girl that I was surprised to see that I never thought I’d see again was Jocelyn Hillsboro. Jocelyn was an alt-rock goddess. I met her last year in my art class and fell immediately in love. She was ahead of her times, really embracing the alternative rock, grunge look before anybody at my school did, anyway. At least among the freshmen. And she was freakishly tall, about 6’3”, and carried around what looked like small boobs on her frame but were at probably a large B or maybe a C. Her curves and slimness were average, but she had a flat stomach and shoulder length brown hair. Her cutest attribute is that she always wore a flower in her hair like a hippy.
But she moved away or disappeared or something after freshman year. And now she was back. Turned out she moved about 30 miles away, and now, since she was 16 now and could drive, she decided to come back for this party.
And then my heart dropped when I saw that Niki Lorrie showed up. She looked so fucking good --- she was built almost exactly like Dominique, but with a little less abs and a little more tits. Today, she was dressed nothing like she did at school. She was wearing a white spaghetti strap shirt that said “Girl” on it, and the top had a V-neck, showing off those wonderful titties quite well. I just loved her and her Drew Barrymore looks, and I hoped I could make a move at the party.
So, again, we were already on our way to getting our drunk on. And Dominique was pretty nervous. She didn’t like the idea of having drink kids in her house while her parents were downstairs. But as is the case at things like this, it gets out of control and everybody practically was drinking the punch. I abstained – mostly – since I wanted to be alert.
We soon descended into games and the game of choice, since teenagers have no creativity, was spin the bottle.
I had played spin the bottle once in my life, and it was back in 8th grade. My neighbors were being babysat by the girl across the street, who was 15 and named Leela, and for all intents and purposes, she was a slut. She would babysit my friend Darrick, who was a year younger then me, and his two younger sisters, Neveah and Emily. But when she did babysit, we would all just come over and play. But I usually had no fun because she was a huge bitch to me, would pick on me and would go out of her way to be mean to me.
Anyway, one day we’re hanging out, doing our normal video games, playing football in the street thing, when it got dark and all of us kids got together in the living room. Somebody had the idea to play spin the bottle… I don’t remember whose idea it was, but the creepy thing was it might have been Leela’s.
Anyway, the group of us playing was a strange crew. There was me, my friend, who was 12, another friend who was 14 but was very ill (he had to get kidney dialysis every night) so he wasn’t a typical kid, Darrick’s sister Neveah, who was 10, and his youngest sister Emily, who had just turned 9. So needless to say, sex wasn’t exactly at the forefront of our minds. Or so I thought.
For me, it ended before it even began. The whole prospect scared the shit out of me. I came up with an excuse to leave, and I would hear the stories about what went down that night forever.
First of all, Leela, who was blonde with a nice healthy C-Cup rack, got naked. And everybody saw Neveah’s freshly sprouted breasts, who even though she was 10, was already wearing a training bra. And Darrick tried to convince me that Leela sucked his dick that night. But I never believed him.
And so there I was, taking a second crack at a Spin the Bottle game. The game has two different varieties, one where you simply spin and the person it lands on takes off an article of clothing. The other is the kissing version. But we were fif-fucking-teen and this was a middle school game. So we decided to do both – the person who spun kisses the person it lands on, boy or girl, and the person it lands on loses an article of clothing.
So these rules got everybody pretty nervous. But I was all over this shit. It was obvious I wasn’t worried about showing what I was hiding. Of the 20 or so people at this party, only 10 took part. It was me, Aaron and Greg, Amanda, Jessica, Dominique, Jocelyn, and thank God, Niki. There were also two other guys I didn’t know, one of which was Niki’s boyfriend, presumably, a blonde, All-American Tom Brady looking motherfucker named Rob who was a senior at Jefferson High across town. The other dude was a dude everybody called “Turtle” and he was about 5’1” and a little shrimpy thing.
So we started the game, and we started slow. People would take off socks for starters to prolong it, and I saw way too many dudes kissing other dudes. When it got to Niki’s turn, I got nervous. I wanted it to so desperately land on me, but alas, it landed on Rob, and they kissed all passionate and knowingly and it was enough to make you throw up.
Then the weirdness really began. During the next seven turns, four times it landed on me! And of course, the first three times, it was dudes that spun on me. Turtle, Greg and Aaron each had to peck me on the lips and I lost three articles of clothing. I lost each sock and then my shirt. Amanda let out an “owwwww” when I did that, as I have been actually getting muscle since I’d been working out with the baseball team. And for now, I was the most naked one there as nobody had more than socks off.
The fourth time it landed on me, it was Amanda. And that was fun.
“Off with the pants, stud,” she commanded me, and that started the first moment that set this party off. I was wearing boxer briefs tonight, and I stood up, and unzipped. The wide-eyed look everybody gave me was fucking priceless. To see my cock, which was about 7 inches long flaccid, and my kiwi-sized balls all shoved into my underwear was a ridiculous sight. I looked closest at Niki to gauge her reaction – and I could tell she was impressed. Rob laughed.
“Dude, why the fuck did you have to stuff socks down there? You look like a retard!” He was from another school and he didn’t know any better. A lot of the people in this circle knew this about me and weren’t surprised. The subject always made Aaron and Greg pretty nervous since they couldn’t measure up, and I knew Jessica was enthralled by it. I never got much of a read from Dominique until this moment, but looking at her now, she more seemed intrigued than anything. And Amanda --- well she knew extra well about it.
“Trust me, that thing is fucking real.” Then she smiled up at me with a sexy as fuck come-hither smile that made my cock hop. “Get the fuck over here and kiss me.”
I went over to Amanda and our kiss was really passionate and lasted a loooong time. Probably a solid minute. It was kind of like our reunion. And needless to say, I got pretty hard during that kiss. Hard enough that my cock stuck out the bottom of my underwear, displaying my thick, bulbous cock head. When I pulled back from the kiss, everybody looked down.
“Whooooaaaa!” everybody exclaimed in unison in a too-much-information tone. Everybody else at the party that wasn’t playing looked in our direction and their eyes did certainly pop out of their heads.
“Okay, I think that means this game is over,” Dominique said. Everybody laughed and began to protest, but it was true – this little scene was creating quite the uncomfortable tension. “We might break out into a full blown orgy if this keeps up!” I wasn’t quite sure how to react honestly. People seemed intrigued, shy, disgusted, and curious about the 400-pound gorilla in the room – all at the same time.
And the best part? That fuck-nut Rob was just shocked and had no idea what to say. You can tell his self-confidence was crushed. Especially since Niki couldn’t take her eyes off of my crotch.
I quietly put my clothes back on as the game broke up. I was pretty nervous and self-conscious after that and nobody was really talking to me – except Amanda of course.
“Forget about these people,” she told me. “We should get out of here.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to her actually propositioning me, especially after how things ended between us. But fuck it – after all this display during the night, I was horny as fuck!
Amanda grabbed me by the hand and walked over to Dominique. “Sweetheart, I normally wouldn’t ask, but do you have a room we could borrow?”
Dominique got a pained look on her face, looked at me and she tried to talk to me with her eyes. I got the feeling she was saying “Seriously? With her?” Dominique knew the entire back story with Amanda. And she figured I was about to go down a rabbit hole.
“Sure. Whatever.” I really didn’t know how to take that statement. Her words seemed dismissive and she seemed hurt, and if I didn’t know better, I thought Dominique liked me and took my apparent decision to hook up with Amanda as a personal attack. “There’s a guest bedroom over there.” And she walked off. Amanda smiled up at me and practically ran to the room.
She closed the door behind us and she immediately kissed me hard and began pawing at the button on my pants.
“You don’t know how long I’ve fucking wanted this!” she told me. I thought about still communicating the hurt feelings I still had, but I figured I’d bite my tongue and let this thing happen. Amanda was such a tight piece of ass, I craved getting a piece of her again.
She parted from our kiss and as her auburn hair bounced, she looked at me with her giant, glistening brown eyes full of lust, lightly biting her own lip, and made a show of dropping to her knees. I couldn’t control my smile.
“Yeah, you know what’s fucking coming, don’t you?” I wanted to have fun with her.
“No, I don’t. Maybe you should tell me?” She smiled even wider.
“First, I’m going to rub this fucking gigantic ass cock of yours. And kiss it. And lick it.” As she said it, she fished it out of its cage and started acting out what she said she’d do to it. She giggled. “Holy shit, babe. I totally forgot how big it is.” She grabbed it by its head and lifted it up, admiring it from my giant balls at the base all the way up. “You realize you ruined me for all other guys, right?”
I just smiled and she gave me a flirty, squinty-eyed look. “Mmmm, I’ve made you all cocky, huh?” She giggled, “COCK-Y!”
“Why don’t quit all this fucking babbling and tell me what you were going to do to me?”
“Oh my god, you’re so bad! OK, I’m going to take this humongous cock,” she said, grabbing the shaft, “then I’m going to lick it,” as she stuck her tongue out and made contact with it. God, the feeling was exquisite, especially after two months.
“…Then I’m going to stick this fucking thing down my throat.” Then she full on attacked it, getting three to four inches in as she began to lube it up for the upcoming deep throat.
Then I began thinking evil. I decided I was going to abuse her. Use her as my fuck toy. I was always a pretty sensitive lover. The most violent I got was when I pretended I was a sex-crazed asshole. But I was always focused on the girl. It was just how I was wired.
But not today. I took my cock out of her mouth and commanded to her, “I want you stand up and get naked for me. Take your clothes off. And make a fucking show of it.”
She smiled as she was really getting into this. “Well, as you wish, master.”
Amanda was wearing one of those tight body suits I loved, this one a long-sleeved, hot pink, black and gray plaid, which clung to her tits so well. And it was a V-neck, so her cleavage was always evident. Her jeans were tight as fuck and showed off every curve of her ass. She unbuttoned her jeans first since her body suit buttoned at the crotch, and revealed her olive tinted legs and the hints of her black, lacy underwear. After that, she went into full stripper mode, shaking her hips and humping the air, gyrating that ass toward me.
“Mmmm, you fucking like this you horny bastard?” I just said nothing, acting more like a guy at a strip club, staying silent and just looking at her – albeit with my hardening cock out.
She unbuttoned the base of her body suit and began to lift it up. And the little fucking minx did make a show of it. She teased so much, lifting the top up over her stomach and showing off her navel, then back down again. Then up to the base of her tits, revealing the very bottom of a black bra, then back down again. I grabbed my cock and began stroking slowly.
“Mmmmm, that’s right. Grab that fucking cock.” She talked so goddamn dirty.
She finally lifted her top and revealed her bra and those fucking tits. Those fucking perfect tits that I missed so badly. I let out a short moan.
“You missed my fucking tits, didn’t you, you big-dicked asshole?” I nodded and let my bedroom eyes set in as I looked at her. She continued to lift her top, this time taking it off completely to reveal her matching black lace bra that was slightly see-through, the hint of her areola and nipples sticking through. She moved her hands back to her body, first both hands moving down to her panty-clad crotch, and then back up her midsection to cup her tits. Then she busted out laughing, covering her face.
“God, I feel so fucking ridiculous,” she said.
“I think you’re so fucking hot, it’s ridiculous,” I said. At that, her bedroom eyes set in and she moved toward me. Without a word, she lifted my shirt, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Holy shit, I can't believed how ripped you're becoming. You got me so wet looking at you when we were playing spin the bottle," she said as she rubbed her hands across my body. “You’ve really been fucking working out, haven’t you?” I had a little more definition on my body. I didn’t think it was much, but apparently it was noticeable. Real noticeable. “You have fucking pecs now. And do I see a six-pack starting?” I just smiled and beamed. I was always a bit of a fat bastard in my former life. Then I changed my look to a steely gaze. “Get on the bed and lay on your back,” I commanded. She did love getting bossed around so she happily acquiesced.
“No, not fucking like that!” I yelled at her. I didn’t like her position, even though her panty-clad pussy was aimed toward me. “Turn around and hang your head off the bed and stay on your back.” She shrugged, not knowing what I had in store for her. She got in position, and I grabbed my cock. “Open up!”
She laughed. “What are you going to do?”
“I said, open the fuck up!” She got a little scared and opened up. But I could tell she liked where this was going. I stuck my cock in her open mouth and wasted no time trying to jam it down her throat. I used to throat fuck my wife a lot (correction: I used to pretend my cock was long enough to even reach the opening of her throat, but I at least went through the motions). Of course, now, it was a different story. I had an entirely different meat stick I was trying to maneuver down a tiny passageway.
She fought it for a few seconds and I felt her teeth graze the shit out of my cock, but once my cock head popped past her esophagus, it was on. She immediately gagged upon my entry, shooting saliva out of her mouth and nearly spraying my faraway balls. But I kept trudging away.
I will tell you, there was no bigger turn on that I’ve seen in my life than the site of her neck and throat expanding and bulging, filled with cock. My cock. She coughed violently at my entry, and I pulled out, bringing handfuls of saliva and bubbles of phlegm with it that got deposited all over her upside down nose and forehead. So fucking hot. Her mascara was immediately running up her face.
I gave her a second to take a breath and she began to speak before I shoved my cock back in. It was so slick, it slipped in more easily past her opening and I pushed down her passageway, creating gasps and gulps with every thrust as I began to fuck her throat HARD. But only about six or seven inches was buried in her face. And I fucking wanted more.
I pulled out again and again brought some of her lung butter with it, and this time, it clung to my cock and dripped right down my long shaft. It felt so good, just like feeling a girl cum on your rod.
“Oh fuck, this is---GLP----“
I shut her the fuck up again by jamming it back again. Pop past her throat, feel the temperature raise 5 or 10 degrees, and this time, I was going for the gold. She wasn’t gagging as much, so I decided to push the distance. I grabbed her by the side of her head, squeezed hard for leverage, and pushed my entire fucking cock down her throat. It went so deep, I felt an uncomfortable burning at the head of my cock, probably from stomach acid. And she squirmed and writhed HARD as I fucked her guts for a few strokes, but then she had had enough and she fucking projectile puked up against my balls and all over her face. I know it was gross, but it was so fucking HOT that my cock made her puke and it actually felt so good on my dick when her diaphragm violently protested my entry. Every one of her muscles seemed to vibrate hard as it pushed back on me. I couldn’t help but moan like I came all over the place. Loud enough that people outside the door could hear.
Amanda raised her arms and pushed my hips away from her. Covered in puke and looking nothing like her normal pretty self, she said, “You fucking asshole!” She was so pissed off at me. Then she cracked a smile. “You shoved your whole fucking cock down my throat, didn’t you?” I nodded. “Mmmm, I can’t believe we fucking did that,” she said, again filled with lust.
She moved in to violently kiss me, and though she was still covered in puke and I pulled back a bit at first, but then relented. Fuck it, I’ll taste a little puke for the sake of an aggressive, lust induced fuck.
I stripped off the last of her underwear and shoved my still rock hard cock up her dripping wet cunt, and she moaned obnoxiously upon my first entry. I pulled her up by her back and bit in HARD into her neck while I stroked my way in. She began cumming right there, squirting her cum all over my shaft. Not even worried we were in somebody else’s house while there was a party going on, she screamed with no abandon as her orgasm pretty much kept up for about four solid minutes, sandwiching one on top of another.
As I rammed my cock repeatedly against the furthest walls of her pussy, I finally felt my cock flex and expand, so I pulled out abruptly and hosed her down with my trademark pints of cum. I squirted all over her tits, but I wanted to leave my mark, so most of it landed on her face and neck. She was breathing heavily, and covered with cum, she began rubbing her pussy fervently to rub out one last orgasm.
Then she said the thing that I believe will cement my legacy forever.
As she was cumming, she screamed, “Charlie Fucking Waters, you big-cocked fucker, you fuck like a Greek God!”
Then she continued screaming out her self-induced orgasm, and then I really saw the last few months, or really my whole life, flash before my eyes. I’ve never been able to fuck girls into a worthless heap like this. It was just three months ago that I was an old bastard counting down the days until I died, and I look down, and see this huge fuck stick protruding out, covered in a cocktail of pussy juice and my own cum, and I wonder, how could one thing, this cock, could make such a difference? How could this change everything? It was like that scene in “Boogie Nights” where Dirk Diggler just stares at his cock as the final scene of the movie. That’s what I was doing. This piece of flesh was going to probably create some interesting scenes in the coming years.
As I was putting on my clothes, I looked back at the door of the bedroom, and I saw it cracked open. And lots of eyes poking through. Had the door been cracked open the whole time? Had we had an audience? As I looked, I heard a lot of crashing at the door as the eyes scurried, and one body fell forward and pushed the door open. It was Dominique. She just looked at me. Shocked. Wordless. We held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity. Without much of an expression, she looked away from me, got up and ran down the hallway.
As I exited the room, leaving Amanda behind to recover, I walked back into the party, and it was like a scene from a movie. Everybody just stopped what they were doing and stared at me. I wasn’t sure how to react. I just avoided eye contact, lowered my head, and walked back into the crowd.
I felt a hand grab mine and spin me around, and it was Jessica. Jessica Bregar, my big tittied friend. She grabbed me and kissed me, shoving her tongue down my throat as far as it would go as I felt her huge tits press against my chest. As she departed the kiss, she asked, “So, can I take a ride next?”
To make a long story short, Jessica and I went outside, snuck to the side of the house, and I fucking ravaged her, first pawing at her huge fucking tits, which were crowned with meaty fucking nipples and large, light brown areola about three inches wide. Then I moved down to her pussy and ate her out nice and proper, getting my first cum from her, creating tears as she came.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you made me cum! I’ve never fucking came before!”
Then I got out my huge salami, turned her around, and fucked her doggy style up against Dominique’s house. She had a shallow pussy so I was only able to fit half of it in, but she just kept cumming. I was now starting to accept that rapid orgasms simply from penetration would probably just be commonplace because I was so big.
As JB was moaning, I heard a rustling in the bushes – and it was Dominique.
“Oh my fucking god,” she said, looking at us. “Charlie, you asshole. Just get out of here. You’ve done enough damage and I can’t have you fucking every girl here!”
I looked at her dumbfounded, and she just yelled “Go!” at me. As I got my clothes on and left, I looked back at the house to see Jessica re-enter. She was bouncing and singing “I fucked Charlie Waters! I fucked Charlie Waters!”
So, as I write, I’m pretty much still shocked by what happened, and I think by tomorrow, it will all set in.
January 10, 1995
I’ve just returned back from my first day of school back from Christmas Break, and might I say, I am LOVING my new reputation.
First off, there is nothing quite like fucking two girls – regularly – and at the same time!
The day after the New Year’s Eve party, though nothing has been officially declared, I think I officially hooked up with JB. Needless to say, we have fucked at least once every day since and whenever I hang out with Aaron, Greg, Dominique and JB, we’re always cuddling and pawing each other, resting up against one another and all that “couply” stuff.
But the girl is a fucking nymphomaniac. I can’t keep up with her, to be honest. It’s not outside the norm for us to try fucking five times in one day. For consecutive days. If cum ran through my veins instead of blood, I still wouldn’t have enough to satiate her
So I hurt. Pretty often. All this fucking is wearing me out. And to be honest, it’s not particularly GOOD fucking. It’s not like the fucking I was used to with my wife or even with Amanda.
It’s almost, well, normal.
She got pretty used to being with me, to being with my cock, after about the second day. And I know it’s terrible, but I love the dirty talk and I love to see women turn into balls of mush after I’m done with them. It’s what gets me off more than anything. And for fuck’s sake, I bring out my entire bag of tricks with her, and she doesn’t even cum regularly. Maybe once per 10 fucks. She doesn’t even seem to enjoy it. She just wants to fuck as much as possible. A few kisses, penetrate, pump, done. She doesn’t even like foreplay. I just don’t get it.
If it wasn’t for her tits – those fat, fucking perfect tits – I would probably have booked long ago. She has these pale, wiggly breasts that sit relatively high on her chest as they have just sprouted, and she has huge, almost purple areola that contrast wildly with her pale skin. She looks just like a fucking Suicide Girl. And I always wanted to fuck a Suicide Girl.
And I can’t give that up.
Though it’s kind of boring, I’ve persevered on my 5-fuck-a-day habit. And Amanda has helped.
Every so often, I have been getting conjugal visits from Amanda. She comes around every few days and we sport fuck until we are both squirting cum across the room.
And she’s grown quite accustomed to the dreaded throat fuck. Turns out she gets off on it. Which makes sense – the girl loves to be used.
Though I’ve spared her from having to swallow my entire cock by force like on New Year’s Eve, I’ve given her the option to take control and swallow 6, 7, or sometimes 8 inches. She is getting better at it all the time. She says she has a lot of trouble doing more since I’m so thick and my cock is so hard, it has very little give as it tries to angle down her throat.
She loves to start out by throating me, dripping her bile and saliva down my rod, and ending with a nice good pussy stretching.
I have to admit, I’d rather be with Amanda than JB. But Amanda isn’t having any of it. She just likes to use me as a booty call.
But the crazy thing about this situation is that each knows about the other one, and is totally OK with sharing. JB actually made the comment once “It would be a crime to woman-kind to not share your gifts.” So I read that as getting carte blanche to fuck whomever I want.
That’s what made today, the first day back at school after break, so great. It was like a scene in one of those teen movies. Every girl that walked by me would smile, be extra nice to me, even throw out a few girlish giggles. They all had heard. I knew it. I was now ordained an arch fucking cocksman. The hunt was on and I was looking for my next prey.
Which brings up the small issue of Dominique. Ever since New Year’s, she kind of quit talking to me. She either comes up with excuses to not join us when we all hang out, or when she does, she barely talks to me. And I’ve noticed she never looks me in the eye.
So yes, I’m not dumb. I know she likes me. And I’ll let her have me. And dammit, I’m going to fuck her cute little brains out.
So, as I write, sitting at home directly after school has gotten out, I have plans to meet her tonight for some coffee at Denny’s. She said we need to talk and “clear the air.” I know exactly what that means. This is going to be fu-uuun!
January 11, 1995
Forget everything I said. I don’t fucking understand women.
Let me start at the beginning. So I go out for coffee last night with Dominique. And I’m planning on making the move to give her what she’s wanted – a night with me.
We sit down and after a few minutes of awkward silence, she finally starts talking.
“Charlie, you know, I don’t know how to start this, so I’m just going to say it.”
That she wants nothing more than to be a slave to my fucking cock. Yes, I’m waiting.
“You’re a fucking asshole.”
I was floored. I really didn’t know how to take it.
“Ummm, thanks? I love being insulted.”
She didn’t crack a smile at all. In fact, at that moment, I realized I hadn’t seen her smile in weeks. And the thought kind of made me hurt.
“I’m serious. You’re turning into an asshole.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re acting like every asshole guy that tried to wave his thing at me when I was on the cheer squad. Guys just hoping to sail by on their good looks…” she said, then clearing her throat, “…or talents… thinking that’s enough to land any girl they want.”
I know I smirked just then. I never thought I’d be one of those guys and it felt good to finally be one. The guy who really could have any girl he wanted.
“And nobody else is going to tell you you’re acting like this.”
I looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“Aaron and Greg aren’t going to say anything. You scare the shit out of them.”
That kind of floored me. I couldn’t think why those guys, guys that were much cooler than me and would honestly kick my ass, were scared of me.
“Why would I scare the shit out of them?”
“Because you have this, this, 12-inch weiner!” She said it so loud, a couple next to us dropped their pancakes out of the mouths and just looked in our directions, mouth agape.
Whispering, she continued, “Every guy is going to be intimidated by you. Nobody measures up. Nobody can measure up to, to you,” she said as her voice steadily raised and became more animated.
“And JB won’t tell you shit since you’re goddamn fucking her all the time,” she said, again loudly and again catching the couple next to us off-guard. “I mean, why do you, why wouldn’t you…” She paused. “Nevermind.”
Her eyes darted down and she looked sad. Putty in my hands. I knew this was my chance.
“Dom, you want to just get out of here and take a walk?”
“It’s 20 degrees outside,” she said, still not making eye contact.
“We’ll get hot coffees to go.” She cracked a half-smile and with that, we went on our way.
We walked about four blocks away from the Denny’s, mostly just talking about the weather and the icy walking conditions, before we reached a small woodsy creek on the edge of the business district. It was kind of our little hangout. It was about three blocks from school and had a nice little cluster of trees we’d usually sit under on warmer days. But I had an idea to set the mood.
I walked her over to the trees, gathered some branches, leaves and wood pieces, and made us a little fire.
“Let’s sit,” I told her, and she sat next to me, kind of keeping her distance. I motioned for her to come closer and she wordlessly snuggled into me, still bundled up in her winter jacket.
After a long time of comfortable silence, she looked up at me. “Thank you,” she said. “This is nice.”
That was my chance. I leaned down and planted a kiss right on her lips. She happily accepted and I felt her small body just melt into mine. It was pretty fucking heavenly, and I definitely felt a spark. Not exactly a lust spark, but something else. I was probably just feeling how she felt about me.
“Mmm, that was nice too,” she said quietly and chastely.
“If you thought that was nice, then you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I kissed her harder, began to unzip her jacket, then I grabbed her hand and put it directly on my rapidly hardening cock.
“What the fuck!” She pulled away from me. I was shocked. I thought she liked me and she wanted this!
“You dumb asshole, did you not listen to me at all?!”
“But I thought you wanted this!”
“I don’t want THIS! I mean, I do, but, no, fuck you. You’re just an asshole!”
With that, she got up and stormed off.
So as I stood there dumbfounded, I figured that this was as good a time as any to pay a visit to JB’s house. She only lived a few blocks away, so it would be a short trip. Time to get that ass!
I show up there, and of course, she’s happy to see me. She plants a big, wet kiss on me and invites me in. It was always strange, because her mom, who was so nice, knew we were fucking and really had no problem with me showing up and ramming her daughter in her bedroom with the door closed.
So we get up to her room, which was always messy, had Green Day and Bad Religion posters and shit everywhere, and I swear, dirty sheets with a myriad of old pussy stains and leftover pop cans and empty cans of ravioli, and we start making out. She starts massaging my cock through my jeans and I paw at her titties, when the phone rings. She ignores it at first, but then she hears her mom yell up the stairs.
“Jessie, phone for you!” She hated being called Jessie.
“Mmm, I promise I’ll come back,” she said, licking her lips and fucking me with her eyes. Then she grabs the phone, and everything changed. It was Dom. I knew it. Because JB’s eyes turned from lust to god-awful anger. She must have told her everything.
“And you know what?” JB said. “That asshole came straight here then to get some ass from ME after you left! He’s here. Right now.”
And so I took that opportunity to dart right past JB, haul ass down the stairs and leave.
So needless to say, today in school, JB is no longer talking to me, Dominique is no longer talking to me, and I’m pretty sure Greg and Aaron have designs to kick my ass.
So… yeah. That happened.
I suppose I’ll update you.
January 14, 1995
The last few days, I’ve been living without friends, and to be honest, not much human communication. Luckily, Amanda booty called me today after school and I was happy to oblige. She followed me home and I throat fucked her for a few minutes, watching as she turned my nearly 3-inch thick, 12-inch long cock into a shiny, almost shimmering silver pole of iron. She keeps trying to swallow an almost impossible amount of cock when she’s with me, and I’m happy to oblige her as she tries. The sight of her body getting into position as she rams 7 or 8 inches of me down her gullet, repeatedly fighting back gags and coughing out projectiles of saliva with every ¼-inch she pushes, makes my cock expand and flex – which makes her goal of taking all of me even tougher.
But the hottest thing about being with her is her absolute raunchiness. She talks so fucking dirty, demands I treat her like a slut, and cums like a firehose. It’s no doubt then that I shoot my load about 20 feet across the room every time I’m with her. And today was no different. I changed it up a bit and, after she came a few times, I used her copious fluids to lubricate both my rod and her tits to titty fuck her, jabbing the bottom of her chin a couple hundred times, before I fucking hosed her down with my trademark ropes of cum. And after fucking Jessica five times a day, then being cut off for the past four days – well, you could imagine how much I had stored up. It probably would have overflowed a brandy glass with no problem.
This would have been all well and good if it weren’t for the fact that I was an idiot.
I was so lonely after all my friends bailed, JB dumped me and I just cruised around pretty sad at school. So in the afterglow of stretching Amanda out, I said, for some dumb reason:
“Goddamn, I love you, baby.”
And I think I even heard the sound of a record coming to an abrupt stop. She got a horrified look in her eye and protested right away.
“I thought we weren’t doing this,” she said annoyed. “We’re just here having fun. That’s it. No strings attached.”
I could have just left it at that, but of course, I had to make it worse. I had the urge to backtrack, but after a couple seconds of silence, I said all angsty, “Well, I can’t help how I feel.”
She shook her head. “Well, I feel like having fun and that’s it. I’m sorry. I really am.”
She looked away from me, and without an ounce of trepidation, she said, “If you’re not up for that, then maybe we shouldn’t be doing this anymore.”
She was so goddamned matter of fact. So devoid of emotion. She didn’t flinch at cutting this whole thing off at all. After one fucking slip up, a slip up I immediately regretted?
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’re just done with me? I have one lapse of judgment and say the “l” word and you’re dumping me?”
She grabbed my hand and said the first heartfelt thing of this whole conversation – “I saw the look in your eyes. It wasn’t a lapse of judgment.” I immediately felt the tears well up in my eyes.
“It’s been fun,” she continued, “but I don’t want any relationships. Don’t get me wrong, the sex is fucking amazing, but I’m not ready for you to be hopelessly in love with me.”
“Maybe you can learn to feel something for me?” I knew how much of a bitch I sounded like when it came out of my mouth. I’m 70 fucking years old, and I’m pleading with a 15-year-old to love me. But I couldn’t help it. I loved our relationship and I wanted to just be with her.
But, I’ve been around the block enough to know when it’s the last time for something. At that moment, I took my opportunity to get an eyeful of her tits and drink up her naked body. Because strangely, I felt that I wouldn’t get another opportunity. I had no real reason to think this, as I could always get her back after this passed, and she did seem to crave me sexually, but I think we were done with each other. To be fair, we hadn’t had a real conversation since sometime in October.
So after a lot of awkward silences and a lot of lack of eye contact, she got her stuff on and left. I have to admit, my eyes were pretty teary. And I made it a point to look for tears in her eyes too. And I didn’t see any at all. And I think that made me even more teary.
As she walked out of the room, I suddenly thought of my wife. Of my former life. I had been thinking about that less and less lately. I really feel like I had been reincarnated, and like all reincarnated souls, the memory of their former life slowly fades away. I think we have more memories of our former lives when we’re children, when those experiences are more fresh. But we soon become very tuned in to the lives we’re living, not the lives we used to lead.
The only difference here is that I can live that life again. I want to see her again. I need to see her again. And I’m still over two years away from meeting her. And it seems like an eternity.
So as you can imagine, this is a pretty tear-filled night. I swear, I’m about 10 minutes away from writing some angsty poetry. Since that is how teenagers deal. But I’m a grown ass man, almost 70 years old, albeit in a 15-year-old body, and I’m going to persevere.
I know it’s been a few weeks since I last wrote, but nothing of real consequence has happened. Just like in the fall, an Amanda breakup means that I fall off the social map.
Sure, I still see girls smiling at me from time to time, and that’s great and all, but I have really been focusing on bettering myself. I’ve been trying really hard in school and on working out for baseball and waiting for the weather to clear up so we can begin proper workouts on the diamond.
The school thing is coming so easily. They finally sent our report card to us in the mail about a week and a half ago, and in the first semester, I did get straight A’s. But, to be fair, it is easy for a 70-year-old with a college degree to pass sophomore level high school classes. Despite that, I’m really proud of myself, as I never got a 4.0 in high school.
But on the girls front, things did change a bit today.
As you can see from the date on my entry, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And I hadn’t even thought about doing something and targeting “my valentine,” but I got surprised by a few contenders.
First off, this is the point in my life when I met Elizabeth Jackson. She was probably The Cutest Girl in my entire high school. And she transferred in out of the blue midway through my 10th grade year – which is now. And she joined my U.S. History class.
My heart skipped a beat when she walked in. She was short, about 5’2”, with straight, shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, a pair of huge baby blue eyes, olive skin and a tiny little mouth. All the time, she used to compulsively bite her lower lip and it was such a fucking turn on! She always resembled a certified babe of the 90’s, Alicia Silverstone, and she looked every bit the part. And just like Alicia, she didn’t have much tits to speak of. She grew into a B-cup – maybe – by senior year and had little lady lumps right now. But with her, she had a great fucking ass and just a nice, overall petite body. I’m not much of an ass man, but damn, I couldn’t take my eyes off her tight, little apple rear.
She didn’t know me from anybody, so when she did walk in to class that first day today, I did my best to be nice to her, ask her to be in my group, and all that. But competition was fierce for her attention. In that class, in addition to Aaron and Greg, who were still scared to compete with me, were Jerome, Will and Jeremy, three of the four starting defensive backs on the football team, who made an immediate play for her.
So when we broke away for group projects – in this one, we were going to make a poster board for the Post-Civil War Reconstruction – I offered that she be in my group so I could show her the ropes, and the football guys were way more obnoxious about it. I had one thing working to my advantage – I knew her.
My first time around, we were on yearbook staff together in 11th and 12th grade. We actually got to know each other. I knew she loved photography (according to her Facebook, years later she’d grow up to become a professional photographer and designer) and really dug the Seattle scene (she’d later move there and stay there her entire life). So our small talk centered around Seattle rock and when I made my pitch to be in my group (I knew I’d be able to get in a few words before the football guys dominated by butting in), I centered it completely on photography and doing our own.
My plan worked to perfection. When they tried to attract her to their group with their “wily charms,” she picked to be with me because I actually sounded more interesting to work with.
The rest of our group kind of fluidly came together, but it ended up being me, Elizabeth, a boy named Caleb, who was a heavy set brown-haired kid who was always pretty quiet but smart, and a cheerleader named Ashley who was never quite my cup of tea (Hispanic, about 120 pounds, flat as a board and not a great ass, either). But I shared my idea, which was to take a picture of us in Western clothes like they do at those cheesy Olde Tyme photo booths at the State Fair, and cut each of us out over four key scenes of the Reconstruction that we either drew or took pictures of. I was definitely playing to Elizabeth on this one, as she was excited about taking our pictures and selecting the Reconstruction Era photographs, as well as picking out the Western Clothes for each of us.
After the class let out, I took a shot in the dark. I walked her to her next class, and asked point blank if she had a Valentine’s Day date yet, and if not, I volunteered, just to show her around her new town as a friend.
I was shocked that she accepted, as the request was framed to be quite chaste.
No more than an hour after I got her number, though, I was shocked to see Dominique seeking me out. Seeking me out for the sole purpose to ask me out for Valentine’s.
Now, keep in mind, I hadn’t really talked to her, JB, Aaron or Greg much since that night at JB’s when shit really hit the fan. I figured she hated me. Today, she comes up to me all shy, not really making eye contact, asking me out of nowhere if I wanted to go out with her on Valentine’s. I was shocked.
“Why? I thought you hated me?” I asked her.
“Because I, I – I always liked you, okay?” You could tell it took every ounce of her will to tell me that, as if she was bearing a secret I didn’t already know, what with the way she leaned into my kiss the last night we hung out, but it meant a lot to her to get her feelings out there. You could tell.
But I had already committed to Elizabeth. I needed to have both of them, as I couldn’t keep this Dominique thing from going away. This was a key opportunity, as I really did miss her.
“Sweetie, I’d love to. Really, you don’t know how much I really want to go with you. But I just met this new girl. She started today and I already promised I’d take her out… as friends … on Valentine’s. I was just going to show her the town, be nice, you know.”
“And fuck her brains out?” And the tone just got dire.
“No, not fuck her brains out. For your information, I haven’t been with anybody in about a month.”
She scoffed and smiled, protesting. “Oh no, an entire month? Whatever. Like I thought you’d change.”
“Okay, Dom, can you just tone – this – down?!” I explained. “Listen, I know I was a huge asshole, was too busy thinking with my other head, but if it makes you feel any better, the last month has really sucked not having you, I mean, you guys, around and I know it’s all because I was a dick. I get that. And if I wasn’t concerned with letting Elizabeth, the new girl, down, I’d go out with you in a flat second. And I want a rain check. I really, really do. Just not on Valentine’s Day. She’s sweet and smart and I just really want a friend right now, and she seems nice. That’s all I want, I promise.”
I didn’t really realize it until it came out of my mouth, but I knew it was true. Liz had a reputation of being the Holy Grail of our school the first time around. EVERY guy wanted her. She got asked out constantly. And she always turned them down. I never remember her having a boyfriend. And she was most certainly not fucking anybody. So I figure, the odds of bedding her anytime soon was slim to none. And she was really cool. It would be nice to attach myself to the hot new girl, then, and follow that road. I really had no other prospects right now.
Luckily, Dom saw the look in my eye and could tell I was telling the truth.
“Okay,” she said, looking down. “But I get you this weekend, okay?”
I smiled happily and nodded, going in for a hug to seal the deal.
So in the end, I essentially got two Valentine’s dates and am going on one with the girl that is the cutest girl in school even though she doesn’t know it yet.
First, directly after school, I met up with Elizabeth to take her out for our Valentine’s as Friends. She asked me on the way out of school if we should get dressed up, and I looked up and down at her body and suggested, “sure, what the hell?”
So after going our respective ways for 30 minutes to get ready, I went to pick her up (my mom let me borrow her car because I had my learner’s permit and Liz had a license). When I got to her door, my heart leapt out of my chest.
She was wearing a sleeveless black halter top dress that hugged her every curve, showed off her smallish teen tits and slithered all down her body to her tight little ass and ended just above her knee. With her petite frame, she wore the shit out of that dress. She wore her hair up and she was carrying a jacket for later, as it was an unseasonably warm February 14th.
“Wow, you look absolutely beautiful,” I said shocked, knowing I should pay her a compliment.
Oddly, she seemed just as stunned. “Yeah, so do you.”
I hadn’t even realized, but I guess I did look OK. I got dressed like I was going to work. I put on a dress shirt, wore a tie and slacks, and rolled up my sleeves just enough to show off my forearms, which have gotten great workouts for baseball and were very toned now. I wore sunglasses on my head and a pair of tight jeans, which ever so slightly, showed off my cartoonish bulge. As I looked down, I wondered if she noticed.
So as we headed out and she got in my car, the first thing that hit me was her smell. She was wearing a perfume that just made me melt. I don’t know how to explain it, except that it instantly made her even MORE classy – and even got me horny. After noticing it, I looked down in horror to notice that my cock was growing down my leg. I really didn’t want Liz to see it, since she’s a nice girl, and I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. So I squirmed and readjusted myself, and luckily, it was just beginning to get dark so I think I was in the clear. After I looked down at my growing cock, I looked up at her, and her eyes were directed down and she had a sweet, big smile on her face.
“And by the way, if I were you, I’d get a pair of tennis shoes from inside,” I said. “Heels might not work out all night long.”
She smiled, intrigued. “Okay!”
I used the moment of alone time to position by cock up higher so it wasn’t as evident, as I didn’t want a boner to ruin this night. But it was going to be hard, so to speak – being alone with her was a HUGE turn-on.
As she returned, choking back a hard-on, I drove on a small tour.
“Over here is the mall,” I began the tour. “It’s the worst mall in the nation. It will eat your soul. DON’T go there!”
She giggled, “Okay.”
I took a turn onto the highway. “Little known fact about this town. You can get anywhere in town in no more than 10 minutes. So if somebody takes longer than 10 minutes to meet you somewhere or something like that, they’re lying to you.”
“And what about you?” she asked. “It took you longer than 10 minutes to get from your house to my house?”
“Hey!” I protested. “This,” I began, motioning to my wardrobe, “takes longer than 10 minutes.” Then I made eye contact with her. “That,” I said, motioning to her wardrobe, “DEFINITELY takes longer than 10 minutes.”
“What, this old thing?” she said, nervously, trying to play it off and hide a big, oncoming blush in her face.
Then I drove her downtown. Our downtown was pretty non-descript. It was your typical mid-sized downtown, still stuck too much in the 50s for my taste, but it had some nice shops and some really nice restaurants. Over the next 20 years, the whole downtown would get remade and become a great shopping and cultural mecca, but for now, it was kind of dumpy. At this time, it was really only known for one thing.
“This is downtown, otherwise known as The Place Where Homies Drag Race.” As if on cue, a low-rider 1978 Buick painted baby blue with chrome rims bounced by. “And that concludes our tour, Ms. Jackson.” I could see a look of fear overtake her. “Yeah, I know. Pretty shitty, right?”
Just as she nodded, I took a turn toward the outskirts of town. There was a river that ran through town and right alongside it was a beautiful trail. It was just getting dark so the timing was perfect.
“Now that the cautionary tale portion of our story is complete, we can start the fun part.” Within the aforementioned 10 minutes, I pulled up to the area known simply as The Trail.
The Trail was a cool little area that had docks on one portion, a place where you can stand and feed ducks and etc. Of course, I came prepared with a ½ loaf of stale bread in the glove box. And the trail then led off to the west, up the river and through an area of trees that stretched on for a few miles. It was a great place to hike. Though the trees were bare now with it being in winter, it was still beautiful.
We began at the duck area, and with bread in hand, I began my pitch. In my former life, I did a lot of college recruiting, and I had to sell this town a great deal. I was good at connecting with kids and convincing them how this community of ours was a diamond in the rough if they would just take a long look at it, and I did so with a lot of passion that was very evident.
So I began my pitch about the great things about this community. The outdoors stuff, as we were right on the border of an awesome forest. The culture, which was pretty artsy and fun, and boasted outstandingly nice people, and the food. Oh god, for some reason, this town was great for food despite its small size. It had every type of cuisine you could think of, and the Mexican food here was to frickin’ die for!
As we fed the ducks, the full moon that was in the air kicked in, and the sight of Liz leaning on the dock, the moonlight bouncing off the water and bathing her in its reflective glow, was just too much to take.
“I’m sorry, I have to say it,” I told Liz. Then, just at that moment, I stopped myself.
I suddenly remembered talking to Liz way back when, and how she was annoyed with guys hitting on her all the time. She was told she was beautiful a million times a day. She was never told she was smart. Or funny. Or even sexy. Just beautiful. Which she told me she found was a general descriptor.
As a result, there was a song during the 90’s that always reminded me of her. It was a song called “Got You” by “The Flys.” It was a vague “you’d know it if you heard it” song if you lived through the decade, but the chorus was like this:
I think you’re smart
You sweet thing
Tell me your name
I’m dying here
Ooooh I got you where I want you
I got you where I want you
Even though that song was about taking advantage of a girl, it was, to me, Liz’s song. She was a brilliant girl. She really was. And nobody noticed. Because she was so mind-bogglingly hot.
As I stopped myself, she responded almost annoyed, “yeah, what’s that?” She knew what was coming. Or rather, what was supposed to come.
“I fucking love how you can carry on a conversation,” I said, much to her surprise. “Most girls, especially the pretty ones, are so vapid and clueless. But you.” I looked her deep in her eyes. “You’re different.”
We held eye contact for a moment. I wondered if I should lean in for a kiss. But I figured, keep her wanting. I still had plans, anyway. “Come on, let’s go.”
We walked down the trail, and about a ½ mile in, SHE reached out and grabbed my hand. That’s right. SHE grabbed MY hand.
The slight gesture was felt immediately in my cock, as my dick, which was bouncing around anyway and rubbing against my leg with every step, threatening to sprout, began to snake a bit down my leg. I squeezed her hand, as if I was attempting to fight my growing member back.
The whole time, we were talking like old friends. It was amazing how much we actually did have in common. We really hit it off when it came to music.
We both loved Seattle, loved grunge rock, and she loved loved LOVED Kurt Cobain. We talked about the whole scene, about how much we both hated Courtney Love, and all that rock and roll geek stuff.
“You know, Liz, I’m pleasantly surprised by you,” I said.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I totally never thought in a million years you’d have legitimate rock cred.”
“Why do you say that?”
And of course, I looked at her, in her hot dress. And drooled a little. “You don’t exactly look like a rocker. I mean, have you seen you?”
“Oh, shut up!” she said, smacking me. “Whatever, I know I look like a preppy. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Most guys who are into the same music as me are these little shrimpy skater guys. And you’re so…” she said, grabbing my forearm and then my bicep with her hands and squeezing, “…not.”
I really had been filling out the past few months, and I was just building muscle really quickly. For once, my forearms were huge, and it wasn’t because one arm was giant from jerking off.
“Don’t believe the hype. I just joined the baseball team and have been working out a lot is all. It’s all really just a façade. I’m actually a 125-pound geek.”
“Well, you’re the cutest geek I’ve ever met.”
Holy shit, did she really just say that!? My eyes about jumped out of my head in shock.
We kept talking, and before long, we went up a graded trail to the top of a plateau, which was the trailhead. On top, we got a great bird’s eye view of the city.
“And up here,” I said, pointing to the East, “is your new home.”
I don’t know what it is about bird’s eye views of cities at night that is so romantic, but it always is. And this was no exception. She dug the finale to this journey.
“It really is beautiful,” she said, digging into her purse to fish out a disposable camera. She got close to me, held the camera in front of our faces and took a self-picture of the two of us with the backdrop of the lit city behind us. As she finished the photo and began to put the camera back, I again established eye contact with her, challenging her to kiss me. This time, it worked, as I leaned in and she absolutely sank into my embrace and shared a nice, passionate kiss. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually kissing Elizabeth Jackson!
I relished the sweet taste of her tongue as my cock instantly sprouted. I pulled her tightly and redoubled my efforts, stroking her hair behind her ear as her hip made contact with my inflating cock.
After a second, and about another inch of rapid hardening growth, she jumped back.
“Um, that,” she said, angling her eyes down. “Is that your, your…”
I half smiled and half tried to cover it up. But it was no use. It was almost at its full length now, tenting obscenely close to my knee.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Settle down. It’s okay. I can’t control it and I really like you, and…”
“I didn’t know they grew that much,” she said. And at that moment, I knew she had never kissed a boy and seen him get hard. Or at least she never noticed.
“It normally doesn’t,” I told her. “It’s just that mine is, you know, really big. It’s not really normal.”
She stared directly at my tenting member, which was a huge turn-on in of itself. Scrutinizing it, she sat on a stone bench next to us so her eyes were right at cock level. Then she looked up at me, with her big, blue eyes, and acting so innocently, “so what’s normal?”
Jackpot. I pulled the material of my slacks back to portray the full size my manhood, and put my finger not even halfway down, at around the 5-inch mark.
“I’m told that average guys are about this long when they’re hard. And maybe half as wide?”
“Holy…” she said, breathing heavily. “…Wow.”
“Sorry if I scared you.”
“No, you didn’t scare me,” she said. “It’s just, you know, impressive.”
I took the open seat next to her on the bench. I was obviously horny, so it might not have been the best move when I just wordlessly picked up our kiss again. She kissed me back for a few seconds before I simultaneously ran my hand up her thigh slightly while she rested her hand on my knee and moved it up my thigh, this time her hand making contact with my cock. At that point, she pulled back on our kiss.
“Please don’t hate me, but can we stop?” she said, tears nearly in her eyes.
“Sweetie, of course!” I said, stroking her hair and kissing her on the cheek. “Our making out just kind of happened. But I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”
She looked down, “Well I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” Then she looked up. “Are you a virgin?” she asked me out of the blue.
I knew I couldn’t lie. “No,” I said. “To be honest, I have kind of a reputation.”
“What kind of reputation?”
“Well, I’ve had sex with a few girls, and I’m pretty sure people assume I’ve been with more girls than I have because of the size of my dick.”
“Well, I’m sorry. But I can’t have sex with you.”
“Liz, sweetie, I didn’t expect you to.”
“But I probably never will,” she said. “I promised Jesus that I’ll wait until marriage,” she looked down again. “I’m still a virgin.”
Wait, what? I never knew Liz was a Jesusfreak! Waiting until marriage? I suppose I never got into this subject with her when I got to know her the first time around, but I guess it makes sense. She definitely didn’t sleep with guys – or even date, as far as I knew – in high school.
“Sweetie, there’s nothing wrong with that,” I told her. “You wait until you’re ready. I’ll never pressure you.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “But I do really like you. And if you, you know, are looking for a boyfriend, and you’re taking applications, I’d like to, you know, throw my hat in the ring.”
She just smiled and looked at me. “You’re so cute,” she said, giving me a light kiss on the lips. “But my mom and dad won’t let me have a boyfriend while I’m in high school,” she said.
“Then why are you out with me tonight?”
“I think they thought it was cute since it was Valentine’s Day,” she said. “But it was funny, since I saw my dad’s eyes get all big when he saw me in this dress. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be allowed out of the house again.”
I looked down at her striking body. “Well, his little girl is growing up. Damn, is she growing up!”
“Shutup!” she said playfully. “But, though you can’t be my boyfriend, maybe we could, you know, secretly make out from time to time?”
“You mean like right now?”
She flashed a huge, cute smile. “Maybe?”
We kissed again, this time far more passionate, and we made out for a solid two minutes. She began purring and lightly moaning, melting into me. I decided to dare myself and move my hand down to her ass, and I squeezed that fine bottom of hers. Surprisingly, she didn’t move or remove from our kiss.
At that point, I kissed her even harder. My cock inflated to full mast again, and as it did, she pulled back from our kiss slightly.
“You’re a real good kisser,” she said.
Then we jumped right back in, kissing heavily. I decided to move my lips down to her neck, biting, licking and nibbling, and she moaned LOUD. She was really getting into this. I then felt her hand on my knee again, only this time, she moved up to make contact with my twitching cock and didn’t move it away. I immediately moved my hand down to her thigh and, lightly stroking her inner thigh with the tips of my fingers, ran it up the opening of her dress. Though her body stiffened up, she didn’t push me away.
I kept moving my hand higher and higher. She, too, placed her palm on the head of my cock, trying to wrap her slight fingers around it. To my huge surprise, I felt her squeeze my cock, and my dick flexed in response. I more quickly moved my hand up her dress to make contact with her cotton panties – and her little 15-year-old snatch was SOAKED. As her hand began to pump my cock, my finger found the outline of her opening through her panties. I moved to the side, and made contact with her pubic mound of probably blonde hair, pushed the fabric aside and began massaging the lips of her dripping pussy.
I picked up my left hand and brought it to her developing breast, massaging it as I worked her pussy with my fingers. As I rubbed her pussy vigorously, her lips quit moving as she focused on her sensations down below. She also quit pumping my cock as she gobbled up her pleasure, moaning ever louder until two minutes in, it hit a crescendo as she came – for the first time in her life – on my hand, my fingers pruny after being soaked with her juices.
After she came, she just laughed. “Wow, what did you do to me?”
“That, my dear, is called in orgasm. That’s what happens when you have a skilled hand on your pussy, rubbing it just right,” I tried the dirty talk, especially in light of what we just did, just to see her reaction.
Breathing heavily, she said, “well, you sure are skilled.”
Despite my raging hard-on, it was clear that we were done there and that was all she was willing to do, and we got up and returned back down the trail. We stopped three or four times just to openly make out on the trail – each time initiated by her.
We departed into town, got a nice dinner, and made goo-goo eyes at each other all night long. At the end of the night, I had to ask her again.
“So you sure you don’t want to be my girlfriend?” I asked her after she ran her foot up my calf under the table. She had been so frisky since I made her cum, it really did become the 400-pound gorilla in the room.
She thought about it for a second. “Maybe we can be secret boyfriend and girlfriend?” she suggested. “Just as long as my parents don’t know.”
I thought back to my first time around with her and how I never remember her dating anybody. Based on that, I had to ask her.
“What about in school? Can you, you know, hold my hand in school?”
“You’re so cute!” She thought about it, then said, “Probably not. I don’t want them finding out. Just keep it on the down-low. Maybe make out outside of school every once in a while?”
I still smiled at that, and agreed to her terms. “Fair enough,” I said, grabbing her hand and rubbing her finger slightly.
So Friend, I did it. I somehow got Elizabeth Jackson. One of the truly untouchable girls in our entire school, I snagged her. In a 24-hour span. And made her cum. Even though she vowed her chastity to Jesus.
Like I said, UNBELIEVABLE!
Until next time,
February 18, 1995
For the first time since this little adventure of mine has begun, I am truly confused. I am at a standstill, at a fork in the road, and I have no clue which road to pick.
Let me explain – it all began Wednesday, the day after Valentine’s. Basically, in our minds, Liz and I became somewhat of an item. But there was no smooching. Not even hand holding. All we did that was publicly visible was sit together during lunch.
But all week long, while sitting at lunch, we’ve snuck little games of footsie under the table, and once, during Thursday’s lunch period, she ran her foot up my leg just for the expressed purpose of getting me hard. She laughed uncontrollably when we finished our lunch, and I didn’t get up. There was no way I was going anywhere with that ridiculous tent in my pants.
If was after school that we got our quality time in. I’d walk her home, making sure I never held her hand, though I desperately wanted to, and wishing her goodbye on her doorstep every day. Wednesday after school, I did finally meet her parents, and I’ve never been so nervous in my life. These were the most proper, Christ-loving people you’d ever meet. And I knew that I might lose my mind a bit since, mixed in among the pictures on the wall of family members, was a framed lithograph art piece of Ronald Reagan. It was the oddest fucking thing. When I found out her dad was a goddamned minister, I knew that I was in for a challenge here.
Lucky for me, I had unlocked the horny devil that lived inside of cute, little demure Liz Jackson.
Now I’m going to backtrack to the day after Valentine’s. As I left the lunch line, walking behind Liz, I was intercepted by Dominique. She asked if I wanted to hang out with her, JB and the guys outside. But I told her I had already promised Liz I’d hang out with her. I asked if it were maybe OK that Liz came along and I introduced her to everyone, but Dom just huffed off without a word.
By the time Friday’s lunch period came around, Dom had compartmentalized her anger enough to finally set a day for that rain check Valentine’s date. She suggested later that night. And she said she would be planning the night’s festivities, so I should just arrive and plan on “being along for the ride.”
So back to Liz. I’m walking home with Liz Friday after school, and about ¾ of the way there, she actually grabs my hand. I haven’t been excited by the simple act of my hand being held in what felt like hundreds of years (almost literally a hundred years!). I developed a smile that was huge and wide, and really uncontrollable.
Liz just grinned at me. “You are so cute, you know that?” I just blushed like an idiot.
As we continued walking, I had to bring it up.
“So are you sure we can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend?” I asked her. “Like, really, super sure?”
She smiled, and her smile went away slightly, descending into more of a flirtaceous, sexy smirk. “Maybe I’m sure?”
I squeezed her hand and continued walking, sensing that I shouldn’t push the issue.
A minute later we arrived at her house. Just as we were about to depart for the day, with her left hand on the door knob and her house key inserted in the door, she turned the knob and opened. Just as I began to turn my body away from her to head home, she grabbed my hand, looked both ways as if to check if the “coast is clear,” and pulled me inside abruptly.
Once inside, she quickly closed the door behind me, grabbed the back of my neck and planted a long, deep kiss on me. I was shocked, but I took the bait, kissing her back.
We moved around the living room blindly, ramming our tongues down each other’s throats until we knocked a plastic candy dish off of an end table, sending candy flying everywhere, and we stopped.
“What, what was that?” I asked breathing heavily.
“Oh, just candy,” she said quickly, grabbing me again to kiss me.
“No, I mean, all the kissing?”
“Well,” she began, kissing my lips softly. “My parents,” she continued, kissing me on the cheek, “aren’t going to be home,” then kissing the other cheek, “until 5:30 today.” She grabbed my head again and kissed me deep. “So I thought we could use some alone time,” she said in possibly the cutest, most innocent way possible, her voice heightening an octave.
It what seemed like in a second flat, I felt my cock inflate four inches. She didn’t have to tell me twice as I obnoxiously stuck my tongue in her mouth and resumed kissing her. Since she was so short and probably 110 pounds soaking wet, I thought I’d try something I never had the guts to do.
In my former life, I was always a weakling. In gym class growing up, I was grouped with the girls when he had weight training units. I’d lose arm wrestling contests with my wife. And sexually, I always wanted to do what I saw in the porn movies – pick a girl up and have her wrap her legs around my body while I fucked her. Two factors always hindered that. One, I was too weak to ever carry even a 100-pound person around like that, and two, every girl I ever dated was usually closer to 200 than 100 anyway, so the idea was absolutely out of the question.
Until now. Sure, I wasn’t going to have sex with her, but I had the muscle to at least lift her off the ground and kiss her. Right? I figured I’d try.
I put my hands on her ass, squeezing her perfect fucking butt tightly until it elicited a squeal. Then I leaned down slightly, placing my hands under her ass and without a warning, lifting her entire body up.
I was simply amazed at how easily I picked her up. Sure, I strained a little bit, but it felt about as heavy as picking up a bag of cement. I had muscles now and I could handle it.
Of course, the stunt set her off and she let off a squeak followed by a cascade of girlish giggles. I loved the fucking look in her eyes. She was so cute and innocent looking normally, but she had fucking bedroom eyes now, and it was the first time I’d ever seen her looking at me like that. Looking at me like a fucking piece of meat. This little 15-year-old preacher’s daughter looked like she was custom-built to fuck.
I continued kissing her, carrying her to a doorway as I leaned against it and kept up my assault. My hands massaged the globes of her ass and squeezed furiously. I then moved her to the couch in the living room and dropped her onto the cushions. She still had that bedroom look in her eyes, which immediately angled down to my stretched out jeans as she took in my entire length.
“Oh my gosh, Charlie. You’re so big.”
I’m still not sure how to respond to that comment. So I just answered with a casual “Thank you.”
As she lied on the couch, I got on top of her. The way my leg angled away from my torso pulled my cock backward a bit too much and I got a trapped, pinched feeling.
“Ow!” I snarled out.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?”
“Oh, just my, well, my dick,” I explained as I stood back up. “I kind of bent it weird. It’s just trapped in my pant leg.” As I rubbed out the pain, she just looked at it me hungrily.
“You know,” she said innocently. “You could always just take your pants off.”
The fucking minx.
I fought back a chuckle. “Some virgin you are.”
“Hey, as long as you don’t stick it in me, right?”
I smiled widely, and looked down at her. With a raised eyebrow, I said, “You know, I could probably use some help getting them off.”
She just grinned at me and literally bounced off the couch and onto the floor.
As a man, there is no anticipation greater than a hot, sexy girl kneeling in front of you, eyeballing your package. Add to it a look of fear mixed with excitement, unabashed horniness, and pure Lolita teenage wrongness, and that’s what it was like to have Liz in front of me.
She smiled up at me, angled those baby blue eyes at mine, and placed her fingers at the head of my cock that was tenting my jeans. She ran her fingers up its length, stopping halfway to tighten her grip around as much of the girth as she could hold. I loved it – her hands were so small, she could barely fit her hand around half of it.
She finally stopped at the top and began to unbutton. The smile on her face was permanent. Her eyes oozed sex. She lowered the zipper, revealing the front of my black boxer briefs. For some reason, I expected her to just take the pants off me, but she raised her fingers to dig them inside the elastic of my underwear and take both my jeans and underwear off, her eyes locked on my cock. She gripped at the sides, pulling my pants down until my pubic hair and the root of my nearly three-inch wide cock came into view. Her eyes darted back up at me in excitement as she made a “squee” noise before focusing back on the matter at hand.
She kept lowering my pants until it was almost to my knee, seeming as if my impossibly long cock was going to go on forever, until she reached the end, causing my cock to spring up violently and hit her square in her neck and chin before bouncing upward to its erect home at a 45 degree angle. She laughed uncontrollably.
“Oh my god, your, your thing flippin’ punched me!” It was so cute how she censored herself.
“Your … huge… you know…”
“You mean… My… Cock?”
She just blushed wildly, reaching her hand out to touch it before screaming and recoiling in apprehension and scooting back.
I was going to have fun with her. I got closer to her, and swiveled my hips so that my cock lightly slapped her on either side of her face. She was giggling and her eyes were closed.
“It’s okay. Understanding is only reached after confrontation.” And I smacked her again with it.
She squeed again. “But your thing, it’s, it’s, so big.”
“It’s not my ‘thing,’” I said. “C’mon, you can say it. Cock. Really work those hard k’s”
“K--- K--- Co---“
“Don’t be scared, sweetie,” I assured her. “You already have a naked penis in front of you. What’s wrong with saying… one … simple … word?”
“Cock,” she finally let out innocently.
“There, there you go!”
She closed her eyes slightly and turned on her bedroom eyes and looked straight into my soul.
“COCK,” she said, really doing a job to accentuate those hard K’s.
“Big, gigantic, huge COCK!” She continued, then grabbing it with both her hands. Holy fuck, she was so sexy.
Squeezing as hard as she could, she began to stroke me. She wasn’t really sure what she was doing but I appreciated her trying.
“Sweetie, don’t squeeze so hard,” I said. “Just grab it lightly. It’s very sensitive.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Trust me,” I said. “This is so the opposite of hurting of me.”
She continued stroking me, going slowly, and suddenly the feeling in my cock changed. Instead of focusing on the feeling of motion, the kind that produces my normal masturbatory orgasm, it instead was an all-encompassing sweet feeling. It felt like when I was fucking Amanda at the hotel pool. The slowness of her jerking movements turned on every nerve ending in all twelve of my inches.
The scene was too much to take and I felt the torrent of cum begin to make its journey up my cock. My dick flexed, and she noticed and giggled. My cock’s movements continued and instead of cumming on her face, I thought I’d put on a show.
I removed her hands and stood back. Standing about 5 feet in front of her, I flexed my cock more and more to coax the cum to the head of my cock. When I did, my cock moved violently as my muscles flexed it first perpendicular to the floor, then allowing it to return back to its natural 45 degree angle. Because of its size, it looked as if it truly was a third arm moving of its own accord.
I balled up my fists and lowered them to my side just for effect. Grunting as I got closer, I aim my cock directly at Liz, flexed a few more times, and let loose a series of hands free cumshots.
The motion of my cock moving like it did created quite the parabola as the first shot went high into the air like a fly ball, squirting behind Liz, clearing the couch and finally painting the upper portion of the wall behind her, where the family pictures stood. If there wasn’t a wall there to stop me, it probably would have travelled 25 feet.
The second, third and fourth squirts all followed suit, landing on the wall and painting the pictures, with two landing on the fucking Reagan picture.
Then the trajectory decreased as the next few simply cleared the couch, while those after that simply reached the cushions, and my groin muscles began to seize. By the time I applied my hand to coax out the last bit and I came to my 10th and 11th cum shots of this orgasm, I began to paint Liz, two shots hitting her clothes while another hit her square in the face. By the time I got to cumshots 15 and 16, I was merely dribbling on the floor in front of me.
Sixteen cum shots. A new record for me.
Needless to say, the next couple moments were a bit of awkwardness mixed with pure lust. She just stared at me dumbfounded.
“Wow,” she said. “I guess I just need to take a towel around with me at all times, huh?” Out of breath, I smiled and let out half a laugh as I collected myself.
After that, I found it odd, because her demeanor changed completely. She immediately quit making eye contact at me. You could feel awkwardness in the room. Her smiles and bedroom eyes were gone, and in its place were forced grins and a lot of staring at the floor.
My stupid morals had come into the equation now. I felt a little ill. Like I was taking advantage of her.
Still panting with my softening and dripping cock exposed, I said “Listen, that got out of hand, I didn’t mean…”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I liked it. It was exciting,” she said, like she was trying to convince herself.
In unison, we both looked down and around to the cavalcade of cum stains throughout the room. She paid special attention to the spurts on her face and her clothes.
“So do all guys squirt this much?” she asked. “Or are you…”
“Special?” I interrupted. “Yeah, that.”
She ran her fingers to wipe the cum off her face. I was sad to see me mark disappear off of Liz fucking Jackson’s face (I was still in disbelief that this was happening with HER), and I was also said to see that when she picked the cum off her face and looked at the white pearly goo on her fingers, she didn’t immediately taste it like she was a porn star. She just examined it then wiped it on her already cum-stained shirt.
“Well, I think we have some cleaning up to do,” she said matter-of-factly.
Over the next five minutes, we both grabbed a rag and wiped up whatever cum we could find. The couch cushions were more stained, so we had to scrub those out with carpet shampoo.
Then there was the smell of sex in the room, even though we didn’t officially have sex. Either way, she lit a candle and sprayed some air freshener.
We did all of this without sharing that many words.
It was pretty evident that after the cleaning was done (and it was scarily close to 5:30) I should probably go. Upon my departure, I took her in my arms to kiss her, and though she kissed me back, it was hardly lust-filled, or even loving. It was the kind of kiss you have with your spouse after a fight, when both of you feel like you HAVE to kiss.
As I left her house and began walking down the street, it occurred to me that my night wasn’t over. I was to be at my house and ready to go by 7 p.m. for my night out with Dominique.
As I got home, instead of reflecting on what happened with Liz, I forced myself to think about what I was going to wear. I settled on something stylish and kind of preppy – a plaid, button up shirt, rolled up at the arms to show off my forearms, covered by a blazer with tight jeans. I did my hair so it feathered out the way that girls love, of course, showered before all this to get any girl stink off of me.
Just I was ready, I heard the doorbell ring. My mom answered and welcomed Dominique in, who she hadn’t seen in a while. My mom said she always liked her, but said in so many words that she “didn’t want another Mexican daughter-in-law.” She was obviously getting way ahead of herself.
When Dom walked in, I felt my cock hop a few inches. She looked so fucking hot.
She was wearing a black Slayer band T-shirt, which was torn and shredded in all the right places. It had tears all up the side, exposing her ribs, all the way from her navel to the sides of her hot pink bra. On the top of the shirt, it was torn all the way down the top of make it an improvised V-neck, showing off the tops of her heavenly cleavage and of that pink bra. The bottom of her shirt was tied off in Dom’s trademark style, exposing that washboard stomach.
She also added a black faux leather skirt that barely reached mid-thigh. She topped off that number with a thick, black belt with large, metallic rings that sat crooked on her waist.
She tied it all together with a pair of knee-high stiletto “fuck me” boots.
She had on dark red, almost maroon lipstick, heavy black eyeliner, and a slight nose ring that is either new or I hadn’t noticed it before.
Either way, whichever of her parents let her out of the house looking like this? Well, maybe she didn’t even seek permission.
“Uhhhh…. hi,” I stammered out, struggling to take in this vision of awesome, mind-boggling hotness in front of me.
“Yeahhhhh,” she said, acknowledging my reaction while also eyeing me up and down. “Where we’re going, you better not be looking like that.”
I looked down and yeah, she had a point. I was dressed like I was going to a Valentine’s dinner. She, well, was not.
“Come here,” she said, taking me by my hand and leading me toward my room.
She pushed me in and closed the door behind us. Thoughts began to enter my mind.
She immediately looked through my closet, and found something that would work.
“OK, this Metallica shirt. These torn jeans. And this leather jacket. And put your sunglasses on your head.”
She tossed the clothes at me, which I of course dropped, and I picked them up and looked at her. I, of course, expected her to leave as I put them on. She didn’t budge.
“So? Go on then,” she said. “Put them on.”
I just looked at each other and we dared each other to leave with our eyes. Nobody did. So I guessed the writing was on the wall. And I began stripping.
Dom simply leaned back and surveyed every inch of my with her eyes as I undressed. As I removed my shirt, she let out a barely audible “nice.” When I dropped my pants and was wearing nothing but blue briefs, her eyes seared my crotch and she looked up at me with a wicked smirk.
“I nearly forgot. You should probably wear boxers.” She went over to my dresser and fished out a pair of novelty green “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” boxers. She threw them at my head, and as I caught them, I just looked at her. She just responded by raising her eyebrows, as if to say, “Let’s get on with it.”
I was getting turned on by this and my cock was plumping nicely. As I dropped my briefs, my growing cock, about eight inches long or so at this point, extended out somewhat in front of me, but still mostly hung toward my knee.
“You know,” she said as my cock was exposed. “Never got a real good chance to look at it before now. It’s impressive. I can see why it turns you into an asshole.”
I just glared at her. Her expression of sultry inquisition didn’t change.
I grabbed the boxers and slipped them on, the head of my cock protruding out the bottom of the leg. I looked back up at her, and I saw her licking her lips. I continued at the matter at hand, and put on my torn jeans, my Metallica shirt, and leather jacket, adding the sunglasses on my head for effect.
“Hmmm, OK I approve,” she said. “I suppose I’ll allow you to be seen in public with me.”
Just amazing. This night was beginning in the oddest of ways – and I liked it!
I got on the car she borrowed from her parents, and off we went. She was going to turn 16 in about three weeks and her parents said she would be able to take it over then. Which was cool, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get a new car when I turned 16.
“So where we going?” I asked.
She smiled widely. “It’s a surprise.”
She drove to a weird part of town I had never been. It was tucked away in some back streets behind the industrial district. There behind a chemical plant was a little building – and there were teenagers everywhere.
It was really a feast for the eyes. Loads and loads of metal kids everywhere, and seemingly all the teenage girls looked like Dominique – all metaled out, like they walked straight out of a Hot Topic catalog, and all oozing sex.
But nobody oozed more sex than Dominique. I’ve never seen her look like this. I’ve never seen her dress this provocatively, even when she dressed in the tube top freshman year. But it was going to perfect because there was really loud music booming from inside, and I knew that the only way we’d really be communicating tonight is through our bodies and our eyes.
We walked inside, and she screamed into my ear at a barely audible level “Welcome to the Indy House! We’re going to see a band called Osmosis!”
“Osmosis!” She pointed to the stage, where we saw a band doing sound check with amps turned up to 11. The sound was deafening, and they weren’t even playing yet.
She grabbed my hand and we fought our way to the front of the crowd. Twice, guys tried to stop her to hit on her, and each time, she pushed them out of the way.
“I think I should warn you!” she screamed into my ear. “You might need to defend my honor a few times tonight!” Then she wrapped her fingers into mind, lifted my hand up to her mouth and kissed it, smiling at me.
We finally settled into a spot about 15 feet from the stage, up against some railing. Just as we did, the lights went out and the place went up in cheers. She turned around and looked toward the stage and just screamed her head off.
“Wooooooooo!” she howled along with everyone else, moving her body backward until her curved spooned mine. She moved my hand across her stomach, and I took the hint and moved my other hand down there too to hold her tight against me as the show began.
Osmosis was your typical garage metal band. A lot of growling and screaming, very inaudible guitars that were way too heavy in bass. But it wasn’t about that. It was about this beautiful, dead fucking sexy girl in front of me, grinding against me as her body gyrated to the music. Every so often, she would look back at me and just smile.
Dominique, too, was Hispanic, after all, and it was practically required that she have a nice, curvy ass. And she plowed that ass back into me repeatedly. Since she was so short, the key curves of her ass were about level with the lower end of my cock hanging halfway down my thigh. In other words, it was sitting perfectly to get rubbed repeatedly on her ass, and it made me think that her decision that I wear boxers so my cock could hang low was a calculated request.
About two songs in, the feeling of her body grinding back into mine was just too much to take. I began lengthening, snaking down my pant leg, periodically feeling a breeze hit my swelling cock as I grew past a hole in the jeans.
As I began to grow, she looked back and flashed me a huge smile now, squeezing my hands hard. I ran my fingers lightly on the skin of her exposed stomach, and I felt her body jerk slightly as I hit the triggers of her sensitive midsection.
I parted my fingers from hers and ran my hands up her sides, feeling the torn open sections of her shirt and reaching in, stroking my fingers in circles back and forth from her back to her front, lingering on the indentations of her ribs. She leaned back even harder and dug that ass into my cock with firmer, more deliberate strokes.
Before long, I was at my full length, tenting out to my knee but trapped behind her. I flexed my cock up against her, poking her in the leg. I took the cue to finally dip my head and kiss the back of her neck. As my tongue explored her neck and I felt the vibration of her moans, I moved my left hand back down to her exposed stomach and moved my right up to her breast, squeezing.
It kept up like this for two more songs until she finally turned around to kiss me. We kissed so amazingly passionately, exploring each other’s souls with our tongues. After learning earlier in the day that I could do so, I dug my hands into her ass to lift her up. Because of her short skirt, I encountered bare skin and discovered that there was a thong under there as I felt mostly bare ass --- the fucking minx --- so I lifted her up and turned her around, sitting her up on the railing behind us as we began making out.
We changed positions from above the rail to below the rail for the remainder of the show, kissing and grinding the whole time. We were so… fucking… horny. When the final song ended, we were caught off-guard and kept making out while others around us filed out. It was pretty obnoxious to be that all over each other. But we finally stopped, looked around, and she grabbed me by my hand.
We walked out of the place, my cock at full mast and tenting all the way down my pants. Based on how she fucking looked (she was easily the hottest looking girl in the place) and my cock standing out so obnoxiously, let’s just say we elicited more than a couple stares as we exited the Indy House. Enough that a couple people even followed us as we found a “quiet” location on the side of the building to finish what we started.
We found a wall about 10 feet away from a big dumpster and I slammed her up against the building and fucking mauled her. We were overcome with so much lust, and we just had to have each other. I grabbed her again by her ass and lifted her up, prompting her to wrap her legs around me as I shoved my tongue down her throat.
I ran my hands up her sides and this time, lifted her shirt to expose that pink bra and her covered tits, which looked way bigger and fuller than they ever did in just a shirt. I grabbed her by the bottom of the bra and released her tits, which barely moved as they were firm as fuck, exposing her full tits which suddenly looked more like solid C’s and maybe even small D’s now that they were freed. Her breasts boasted a pair of brown, three-inch wide areola and generous nipples that were already rock hard. In the soft, yellow light of the parking lot, I could see an almost regal shine on her tits, almost as if they sparkled. And I could also hear the first peeps from our peanut gallery, as the eight or so people watching us exclaimed at the sight of her tits.
I dipped my head down and suckled at those full, gravity-defying tits, causing her to moan incessantly. She dipped her head back down to meet mine to resume our blurry, panting kisses.
At that point, she wiggled out of my grasp to get on the ground, ready to free my foot-long cock. Breathing heavily, she got down on her knees and began unbuttoning my jeans. You could feel the mood of anticipation from everybody watching, as they could see my fuck-stick through my jeans. I looked up from Dom and over at the group, and the boys and girls were holding each other, rubbing each other, and all 16 eyes were glued to my cock. Eighteen if you count Dominique. The voyeur in me really got off and my cock flexed as she negotiated with the zipper.
As she got it all the way down, she angled her eyes back up at mine and smiled, then dug her fingers in and pulled my pants down, again creating that dreaded springing effect as it popped up and hit her in her shoulder. After my tryst with Liz earlier in the day, it was déjà vu.
As my arm-thick cock came into view, the entire group of people watching gasped. A couple of “holy fucks” and “oh my God” cascaded out. But the only exclamations I was worried about were Dominique’s.
“Oh my fuck, it’s so fucking huge and beautiful,” she said to me, smiling, as she raised both hands to stroke it. She laughed and just looked at me in disbelief. “Wow, I can’t even wrap my hands around it!” I made my cock flex in acknowledgment as she wasted no time lowering her mouth to my candy apple cock head.
Dom was small, but she had a big, wide mouth and she actually had very little problem getting it inside her mouth. She immediately got my cock head to the entrance of her throat, but that was about as far as it was going to go – at least for now. But she knew what she was doing, sucking as much in as she could while she stroked me with her right hand and massaged by kiwi-sized balls with her left.
In really no time at all, I was ready to burst. I tried to warn her and as I did, she stopped altogether, squeezing me hard around the base of my cock and lifting her head off of me.
“Oh no,” she said. “This isn’t ending like that.”
Oblivious to the people watching us dumbfounded, she stood up and grabbed under her skirt to remove her thong. Lowering it over her fuck me boots, she grabbed me by my neck to climb on board. This time, as I lifted her, we awkwardly tried to position her so that her now-exposed pussy could line up with my ridiculously long cock. Of course, when it stood straight up, my cock damn near reached my nipples. So she hand to climb on to me, straightening her body out by basically doing a push up off of my shoulders, and doing the splits at the same time.
Thank God she was once a cheerleader!
We somehow managed for our nasty parts to meet, and I parted her lips and let gravity do its part.
Oh sweet merciful God, was she tight. She was screaming before I even got a full two inches in. But I give her credit, she adjusted quickly. I got about halfway in and I thought I felt myself bottom out, but I was able to keep going deeper and deeper, creating screams and moans that were louder and louder. By the time I saw her lip quivering from an oncoming orgasm (that she was trying to choke back because of the spectators), I had about 10 inches in before I finally felt the final wall.
“Oh my God,” she screamed. “I swear I feel you in my fucking stomach.”
I dicked her nice and deep for a solid two minutes, finally eliciting a silent orgasm out of her, before I felt myself inflate and get ready for my orgasm.
Wanting to show off a bit, I lowered her off of me and got her on her knees. I began to jerk my own cock, but she instead grabbed on with both hands. Since there was room for both my hand and two of hers, we kept working together until my moment finally came.
I squirted her hard right on her cheek and then kept spraying, load after load, counting each squirt. I came across the alleyway, a few squirts painting the brick wall across the way. By the time squirt #11 came and she was still pumping me, shocked as all hell that I was still cumming in high volume, I strangely didn’t feel even close to satisfied. I knew this was going to be a big one.
I went to and beyond my record of 16, and though I eventually lost count, I settled somewhere around 21. I was fucking spent and this was SO FUCKING HOT.
All the people watching were moaning. I was moaning. Dom was moaning. I saw two couples begin making out right away and a few others rubbing themselves. We had put on a hell of a show. And Dominique looked so fucking happy. After weeks of playing around, we had finally come together.
On the drive home, she surprised me even further by pulling off halfway, hiding in an alley, and unzipping me and blowing me again. It was so hot --- this time she tried to swallow, but the sheer volume of my cum made her choke and she spit the saliva and sperm cocktail all over my pants and onto my pubic region, soaking me in the hot liquid. But there was no mistaking it --- she was hot for me and hot for my cock --- FINALLY!
As she stopped at my house, I talked with her for a bit and I had to ask her about all the other stuff that went down between us. Was she actually ok?
“Honestly, it still hurts,” she said, the lust finally disappearing from her face. “But you were with Jessica, and Amanda, and now this Liz girl, I don’t know. I just get jealous as hell. I’ve always liked you.”
“I’ve always liked you from the moment I first met you.”
Well, that was new information. This year, well that’s one thing. But during freshman year? When we were lab partners? My former life? She liked me then?
“Wow,” I said. “I had no idea. I was such a nerd last year.”
“Stop it, no you weren’t!” she said. “You always made me laugh, you drew me those funny pictures, and we always talked and had fun before class.”
Come to think of it, we did. I got along with her really well. But I was too blinded by my crush on Niki to notice.
“Do you remember when I asked you if you thought Janet Jackson was hot?”
I did. She was asking me which girls I thought were hot and she brought up Janet Jackson. She was the big shit that year – that was the year she came out with that album where on the cover, she was naked and the guy had a hand bra over her tits. Every dude seemed to either have a Janet Jackson thing or a lingering Cindy Crawford thing.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, you told me you didn’t like Janet Jackson.” Which I really didn’t. She had nice tits and all, but I wasn’t going to tell a hot girl like Dominique that I thought another woman was hot.
“And I don’t,” I said. “She’s not really my style.”
“Well, that whole year, everybody told me I looked like Janet Jackson,” she said. “So I figured if you said you liked Janet Jackson, that meant you liked me too.”
Such faulty logic. Of course I liked Dominique! I always did. But Janet Jackson carried herself way differently than Dominique did. Plus, she was a fucking Jackson. I mean, seriously!
“Sweetie,” I said, grabbing her hand. “You’re nothing like her,” I told her. “I’ve never associated you with her. I’ve always just thought you were hot.”
“Really.” And I leaned over and kissed her.
“Besides,” I told her. “Your tits are way better than hers,” I thought, flashing back to her flash on the Super Bowl halftime that would happen years latter, and those gross chocolate starfish nipples.
“You like my boobs, huh?”
“Shit, you’ve been holding out on me!” I said. “I had no idea they were that big and nice. They’re like sneaky big.” I paused. “Mind if I ask what size bra you wear?”
She smiled. “I go back and forth between a 34D and a 32C,” she said. “Depends on the store.”
“Wow,” I uttered out.
She looked down at me, “No, I’m going to say ‘wow’,” she said. “Are you getting hard AGAIN?”
I looked down and saw a slightly enlarging bulge down my pant leg.
“Hmm, I guess so,” I shrugged. She reached out and grabbed it.
“You’re just a fucking machine, aren’t you?” she said, leaning over to kiss me.
“So, are we good?” I asked.
She looked at me with doubt in her eyes, since she had to get one big thing off her chest.
“Well, are you fucking that Liz girl?”
And there it was. The moment of decision. I was an honest guy and was never good at this two-timing business.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. “We’re going to be an item now, right? Like, be together?” She nodded. “So that means complete honesty, right?” She nodded again apprehensively. I didn’t like the look on her face.
“Well, I’ve been kind of, vaguely, seeing Liz since Valentine’s,” I said. She got a sad look on her face.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, we’ve been secret about it. Her parents can’t know. The people at school can’t even know. So it was very, you know, first grade…”
And I thought about it. Should I tell her what happened today? I had to. I had to be honest.
So I told her the story. Walking her home, her coming on to me, things getting out of hand, and ending with a handjob.
She sat there in stunned silence for a second. I felt like something needed to be said.
“Believe me when I say that if I was officially with you, like we are now, I would have never done that.”
She thought about it for a while. Then with a bit of venom in her voice, she said, “That didn’t stop you from kissing me while you were going out with Jessica.”
Fuck. I guess she’s right. I guess I had cheated. Hell, I may have cheated on Liz tonight.
“Listen, I didn’t think her and I were together together,” I rationalized. “I mean, I was even with Amanda during that time, and JB didn’t seem to care.”
“Trust me, she cared,” she said emotionally. “She just didn’t want to lose you.”
“Well, listen, I didn’t know she cared about me, and I know I made some shitty choices in the past, but this is different. I promise you. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
I don’t think I realized it until the words came out of my mouth, but it was true. I did always want her. She was the one I had a connection with. Hell, even freshman year, she was the only girl I could think of that really even talked to me.
“Besides, after the way things ended today with Liz, I think she’s made at me anyway.”
“You came all over her house with a foot long cock!” she said. “You might as well be Lucifer incarnate feeding her the apple!”
We both laughed at that, and she grabbed my hand and pierced my eyes.
“Charlie, please, for me, break it off with her. Tell her you’re just friends. Something. And let me know when you do.”
With that, we kissed passionately good night, and I left her car and she drove off.
And clearly, I have lots of thinking to do.
I’ll update you tomorrow friend.
February 21, 1995
So it shouldn’t be much surprise that I’ve pretty much hid out the past couple days. Saturday and Sunday both, I didn’t call Dom or Liz. And they didn’t call me. Just hung out at home and went over and over again in my mind which one is the best choice.
I could pick Liz, which would be amazing. I could pop her cherry – which is something I’ve never done – and really open up a great relationship with her. We could establish ourselves as the epitome of “high school sweethearts” and I think be together for quite a while. We really connect, she’s into a lot of the same stuff I am, and she has a good deal going on upstairs, which is a huge turn-on. I hate ditzy girls.
And she is SOOO beautiful. Like Helen of Troy beautiful. And she wants ME. She tried to even SEDUCE ME. And I look in to her baby blue eyes for hours. And her petite little body --- god damn it would be amazing to impale her tiny body with my cock. Over and over again. And watch her unleash that horny fucking devil she has inside. She does, though, have no tits, but I know she’ll at least grow into a B-cup before high school gets out. So we have that going for us.
And then there’s Dominique. Dom and I already have friendship. We already have lust. We don’t need to try that hard with each other. It just is. And now that we’ve opened up sex, and we’ve crossed that barrier, there’s no telling what we could do now.
Though she’s not as hot as Liz, there’s no denying those fucking tits. Those high, perky tits are fucking Playboy-esque. And the way she uses that rap video ass of hers is almost artistic.
But to be honest, she wasn’t as smart as Liz. I loved our conversations. With Dom, it was more a combination of flirting and navigating hurt feelings.
But speaking of hurt feelings, Liz could still be scared shitless by how our last meeting went down.
As you can see, there was way too much to think about. And strangely, the decision felt like it did when I asked out my wife for the first time. Back then, I felt like that by taking that step of asking her out, I had effectively mapped out my life. I was making the decision to marry her, right then and there, just by asking her out. Because that’s what it was going to turn into. I just knew it somehow.
This time, it was the same deal. No matter who I chose, this girl was going to be my high school girlfriend for a while. I just knew. So a simple weekend wasn’t enough time to come to a decision.
But I had no choice by the time Monday came around. I was back at school and of course, the first person I saw in the halls, as if it was on cue, was Liz.
She still wasn’t making eye contact with me. She just sheepishly said “hi” to me like she barely knew me and started to walk quickly past me. She probably would have just kept on trucking if I didn’t stop her.
“Liz, come back,” I pled, my words forcing her to turn around as if she just got caught stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar. Or, I suppose, a cock out of the underwear.
She stood there wordlessly, and, knowing I had to lead this conversation, I began to speak.
“Listen, I’m sorry about how things went the other day,” I said as she just darted her eyes to the ground. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just got too excited. It seemed like you wanted it to happen and I just didn’t think…”
“It’s not your fault,” she interrupted me. “It’s mine. I’m just, just, riddled with guilt over what happened. I never expected it and I just, just…”
I looked at her, trying to guess what she was trying to get out. “…was surprised you acted like that?”
She looked away from me. “More like ashamed,” she said, a slight tear appearing in her eye. “I mean, I made a promise to God and a promise to my parents – and a promise to myself, even – to wait until marriage before I did something like that,” she said. “And I nearly had, you know…”
She whispered, “…Sex, with you.” I was surprised at that fact. “I would have. I mean, still now, even looking at you, I, I…”
She just made this whole decision harder. I knew I could break her if I really put my mind to it. I couple more evenings together and I knew I could get her to part that pussy like the Red Sea.
But I had more respect for her than that. I did genuinely like her and saw a great future with her. But I didn’t want to be motivated by pussy. I wanted to be motivated by love.
And honestly, with Liz, I was worried it would be TOO GOOD. I had this feeling like I would be with her for a LONG TIME. And that would mean I couldn’t meet my wife and retrace that life with her.
Dominique still had the makings to be a great girlfriend, but there was no way in hell I was marrying the girl. So like a ton of bricks, it hit me. Dom was the right choice. And I took Liz’s shame in what we did as an opportunity.
“…Listen,” I interrupted her. “It’s OK. I know things went a little fast. I get that. I’m sorry I put you into that position. I’d never want you to jeopardize your faith, your promises, or your relationships with your parents just for me. I couldn’t live with that.”
“So let’s just be friends,” I finally offered.
Though she had tears in her eyes, she responded well to that, shook her head in measured affirmation, and just hugged me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe someday I’ll be ready. But just not now.”
I squeezed her back. “I know, sweetie. I know. But we’ll stay friends, OK? Best friends.”
She nodded again. I meant it. It would be great to be “best friends” with Liz. We did get along great. I could see us getting close.
So no sooner than we tempered our emotional “break up” and Liz began to walk away, did I get mauled from behind by Dominique, who squeaked in my ear. She hugged all over me, then stopped for a second.
“Wait, that is what I thought it was, right?”
I smiled. “Yes, it was.”
She got down off my back and spun me around toward her. “Aw, fuck yes!” she cried out and pulled me down for a passionate kiss right there in the middle of the hallway with people standing everywhere. It was passionate enough that we got smacked by a teacher walking by.
“Not in school!” The teacher, Mr. Aronofsky, chirped at us. I looked at Dom and she crooked her eyebrow, almost as if she took his directive as a challenge.
Yeah. I think I love this girl.
Your Friend Charlie
February 22, 1995
I didn’t think I would write tonight, but as I lie here waiting to fall asleep, I just keep waking up time and time again to rub myself and jerk myself off, thinking about the way Dom and I fucked again today.
So yesterday, we officially “got together” I suppose now that I pushed Liz out of the picture. And we sat together at lunch and climbed all over each other, hanging out with JB, Aaron and Greg, who seemed to get over any past transgressions (In fact, I guess it was all in my head. Aaron and Greg didn’t care what – or who – I did anyway, and JB got over me pretty quick and was more pissed off that I hurt Dominique).
But I couldn’t get over the fact that I left poor Liz high and dry. I saw her sitting at our table at lunch, surrounded by two or three guys blatantly hitting on her and looking like she just wanted somebody to save her.
So I asked everybody’s permission – chiefly Dominique – if Liz could sit with us. I begged everyone to give her a chance. They agreed and I invited her over – after explaining the Dominique hookup, in gritty detail, of course. Which definitely caused some hurt feelings but at least she wasn’t alone anymore at lunch.
Needless to say, JB got along with her, Dom was still indifferent (she still felt like she competing with her I think) and Aaron and Greg? Well, they instantly fell in love. Liz’s emotions quickly melted away and she seemed to have fun. She was smiling a lot and really hitting it off with everyone.
I thought in the back of my head – how will this grouping change things? First time around in school, Liz didn’t hang out with this group. Granted, she eventually ran with the Ex-Cheerleader types, but she more or less hung out with the preppies and football players. Not the skater punk type kids, like us. I wondered about her personal space time continuum. What road would she go on now?
Nonetheless, it felt a little strange being affectionate with Dominique with Liz right there. And Dom sensed it. And took me to task on it after school. And we had our very first fight. On the first day we were going out. GREAT way to start.
But I weaseled my way out of it by just explaining that it was weird making out with my girlfriend when my last “girlfriend” was sitting right next to us. It just took some time to get used to it.
She understood but was still upset, so I offered to make it up to her today.
I knew my parents would be working late and I’d have the house to myself for a while. The timing would be perfect.
So after school, I brought Dom home and with an empty house, I offered her a drink while I disappeared in my room for a while.
After I did the prep for about two minutes, I came back out so I could invite her in to my room. And I had decked it out. I covered up the windows to make it dark, I lit candles everywhere, lit incense, and spread rose petals all over the bed.
The look in her eyes was priceless.
“Our first time wasn’t exactly romantic,” I announced to her. “Though I had fun, I think you deserve a more sensitive approach.”
She just looked at me with satisfaction in her eyes, saying “Hmmm, I knew you weren’t an asshole.” She smiled big and wide and moved in for a slow but passionate kiss.
I kissed her and went to what was turning into one of my signature moves – holding the girl up while I kissed her – as I grabbed her ass and raised her up as I lightly stroked my tongue across hers.
We reached the bed and I dropped her onto the mattress. As she bounced, I noted how her titties wiggled while encased inside a Foo Fighters T-shirt. As I leaned down to continue kissing her my cock grew FAST. From nearly my softest to rock hard in about 10 seconds. It was getting stuck in that awkward perpendicular position so I had to free it. As my cock sprung free, she was still impressed.
“Wow, I can’t believe this is all mine to play with whenever I want!” She said cutely. As she put her hands out to touch it, it twitched wildly in anticipation. “I love how it has a mind of its own.”
With my cock freed and bouncing left and right, I moved down again to kiss her, joining her on the bed as we laid down and made out. Now with it just her and I and no audience to watch us, I took my time. This was my moment to map her out.
I began my journey at her ribs, which I remember being a hot spot at the concert. I lightly touched her and her body immediately jerked while she giggled. I did it again, this time lowering my tongue to lick her navel lightly, and the combination made her moan loudly.
And I was just getting started.
I moved my tongue up to her neck and lightly brushed it underneath her ear lobe. I probed my way down until I reached the curve of her neck, right on the collar bone – which was always my wife’s favorite spot – and she started giggling and squirming wildly. I decided to change it up a bit while bringing some pain, combining the collar bone kisses with a simultaneous slow, hard scratch of my fingernails down my back.
And she came almost instantly. Wow. I had never seen anything like it.
“Holy fuck, Charlie, what are you doing to me?”
“It’s called…,” I said with authority, making solid, dominant eye contact while quickly sending my hand to her already wet crotch, roughly tracing her lips with my fingers through her jeans upward toward the button.
“…Making,” I continued, unbuttoning her pants with one hand.
“…You,” I kept on, this time digging my hand inside her panties.
“…Cum,” I finally finished, inserting my finger into her hole and producing an amazing moan. I rubbed vigorously with three of my fingers buried and my thumb doing all the external work, rubbing on and around the clit.
In just 10 seconds, I was amazed that she came. HARD!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a squirter!
She sprayed all over my hand and soaked nearly every inch of her underwear. It was like she pissed her pants, there was so much girl stuff. I was shocked. I had never been with anybody who squirted like THIS! My wife used the squirt from time to time when we were younger, I had a couple girlfriends back in the olden days that would while I was eating pussy, and Amanda let go of a few, but nothing like THIS!
As her orgasm calmed, she just looked at me, smiling and beginning to laugh. She was breathing so heavily. Her breasts were heaving on her chest with every rise and fall.
“Sorry, Charlie,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
Baffled, I said, “Do what?”
“You know. Make such a, you know, mess.”
I kind of forgot. She was 15. This was pre-Internet. She had no idea that squirting was a GOOD THING!
“No, don’t be sorry,” I assured her. “The best thing you could have possibly done was squirt on me. It let’s me know I did a good job.”
“Yes, really. It’s like when I squirt my stuff. That’s like the girl version.”
“Oh,” she said, coming to a realization. “My ex boyfriend was freaked out by it.”
I was semi shocked about the boyfriend admission. And the implication they had sex. She NEVER talked about it.
“Really?” I asked. “I didn’t know you had an ex boyfriend.”
“Of course I did, asshole,” she said, smacking me. “I mean, I’ve had lots of boyfriends but only one I had sex with. And I freaked him out.”
“Half the time I have sex, I squirt. Like, a lot. And he was convinced I was pissing.”
I couldn’t control myself and just busted out laughing.
“What?” she protested.
“It’s just that this guy sounds like a fucking retard.”
She laughed too. “I know. He kind of was.” She paused for a bit. “So you don’t think it’s weird that I squirt all the time.”
I thought about her comment and had to press further.
“Define ‘all the time.’”
She got really nervous and smiled. “Well… like I said, I do it during sex a lot, but when I masturbate it happens, like, every time.”
I crooked an eye at her in shock. She covered her eyes, embarrassed.
“I can’t believe I just told you I masturbate!”
“No, Dom, I like it,” I said. “It’s a turn on. See?” I pointed out my still rigidly hard cock, which didn’t waver at all during this conversation.
“Mmm, I do see,” she said, grabbing it with her hand and stroking it. “So,” she said, adopting some bedroom eyes. “It turns you on, huh?”
“Oh god yes,” I said. I couldn’t believe my ears. Did I really have a genuine serial squirter?
“Is that so?” she asked. “You like it that every time I rub myself, I need to spread a towel out on my bed? Since I soak it sooo much?”
She rubbed my cock faster, and it began twitching. “Yes.”
“Do you like it that I play games with myself to see how far I can squirt?” Her stroking got even faster.
“Do you like it that I REALLY squirt when I steal my older sister’s big black cock toy and stick it in me?” She began stroking vigorously now.
“You know,” she began. “Your cock is MUCH bigger than my sister’s toy. I bet with a little practice, I’ll squirt all … night … long on your big … fat … fucking … cock.”
I couldn’t handle it anymore. I mauled her. I began first by kissing her and wasted little fanfare by burying my face in her pussy. I licked a novel in the folds of her pussy, every sentence, every letter, in beautiful cursive letters. By the time I got to the end of the sentence “Call me Ishmael,” she was panting heavily. To send her over, I jabbed my fingers in, and boom. Squirt fucking city.
She was screaming and sprayed all over my bed, making a HUGE wet stain.
And we weren’t even done yet.
I moved myself closer to her face, my face slathered in her juices and my fingers pruny from my scant contact with her pussy.
“This is you,” I told her, motioning to my fingers. “And this,” pointing at my face. “You want to taste?”
She squirmed and giggled.
“I promise,” I said. “It tastes good. Kind of tart and sweet.”
I moved my fingers to her mouth, and apprehensively and cutely, she began to lick off her own juices. When she realized it wasn’t that bad, she really got in to licking my fingers.
I removed my digit and moved in for a kiss. She surprised me by grabbing the side of my head and licking my chin and cheeks, soaking up the rest of her juices.
I looked at her amazed. “So you like how you taste, huh?”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, half moaning. “Plus it’s so fucking nasty!”
We wordlessly kissed for 5 minutes, tearing each other’s clothes off before my rock hard footlong needed some release. I lowered my cock to her pussy and pushed in to her ridiculously tight hole. Her pussy walls embraced my wrist thick fuck stick, causing a huge moan as she arched her back high into the air, sending her gravity-defying titties jiggling upward.
As I entered, she rubbed her clit and stared deeply at me, grinding her teeth as I entered.
“Oh my god, you’re so fucking huge!”
I kept trudging deeper, and her soaked, squirting pussy finally allowed me in to almost my full length, which amazed me since she was so petite. I picked her up, leaning her back on her shoulders while her legs dug into my shoulders, and I was amazed at what I saw.
With my up curved cock hard as a rock, my huge dick plowed deep into her bowels and I actually saw the indentation of my dick make its way up near her bellybutton. As I looked at her flat, toned stomach I could see the indentation of my dick actually moving back and forth.
She noticed the bulge too and placed her hand over it, waiting for it to poke her over and over.
“Oh my god, it’s like a baby kicking,” she said. “Mmm, it’s like I can feel you in my stomach.”
From there, we just sport fucked. Every thrust I gave her seemed to tickle the top of her pussy right at her G-spot, and then go deeper to reach her deepest depths and give her a whole other feeling. I remained mesmerized by watching the movement of my cock travel all over her belly and groin region. Like an alien trying to get out. Maybe this was normal with skinnier petite girls. And I didn’t notice it unless I had her almost perpendicular to the bed while I held her up. Either way, she was by far the most slim and petite girl I had ever been with and I was just enthralled.
It wasn’t long before the image in front of me alongside her repeated and almost continuous orgasms sent me over the edge. Knowing she wasn’t on the pill, I pulled out and hosed her down from a couple feet away with my trademark epic cumshots. I counted about 15 squirts before I was spent, glazing her face and those tits with my special sauce.
We were able to pull off two more fuck sessions before my parents came home. When they did, the smell in the house was obvious. My mom knew what we were doing, and she gave me a disapproving glare. But I didn’t care. There were few other times in my life that I fucked like this and any punishment due to be doled out is totally worth it!