"I'm fucking c--cumming!" He yells, thrusting himself into me as deep as he can. His legs spasm in a fit of orgasm.
My head tilts back and we moan together. What started as a subtle tingle has erupted into a wave of electricity coursing through my body out to every extremity. Our bodies convulse against one another. My upper body shudders and my legs push hard into his ribcage.
I gasp as his massive load fills my insides. I can feel his warm, thick cum coating my walls. Mr. Michaels just came inside me!
My vision blurs and my mind goes numb. My head droops and I fall forward onto his firm chest. My breasts heave against his hard pecs as the last bits of cum dribble from his dick.
As we lie there together in mutual bliss, I think about what will become of us now. Mr. Michaels has almost certainly impregnated me. Will I finally be able to live the life I've always wanted, free from my controlling mother? Will he have a cute kid together just like little Billy?
Then our bodies tense when the bedroom door creaks open.
Little Billy is standing in the doorway in his pajamas, looking utterly confused. His eyes are fixed on the red and white outfit strewn across the floor.
"S--Santa?"
TOO TIGHT
Mr. White always has all the good food. The stuff Mom never buys. I guess that's why I'm over at Mr. White's house more than my own. I can't stand being around my mother.
She is always teasing me about my weight, and it really hurts sometimes. She thinks she's just being funny when she pokes my belly fat, going, "My daughter is getting so chubby!" Then she laughs like it's all a big joke.
The truth is I am really self-conscious about my weight. I'm not obese or anything like that, but it hurts to be made fun of like that. My mom is probably the reason I go over to Mr. White's to binge eat all the time.
Maybe I should see a therapist about that.
Anytime I ask her to buy the foods I like, she tells me, "Not with my money. Get a job if you want to buy junk food!" But that skinny bitch doesn't know how hard it can be for a big girl like me to land a job.
People look at you differently in in interviews, always staring with those judgmental eyes. Trying to find a job in retail when you're overweight is a nightmare.
But Mr. White doesn't seem to care. He is really the nicest person on Earth. He used to be overweight himself, so he really understands what I'm going through. But one day he somehow managed turn his life around. He got fit in just under a year--totally ripped, actually.
Then he scored a hot wife and moved to the suburbs next door. Ever since then, I've been making every excuse possible to be around him.
I saw some of his old pictures when he was overweight like me. It's incredible how much he has changed. The guy is a total hunk now. He's always telling me that I shouldn't care what people think of me.
"No matter what they say, you're gorgeous to me," he told me once. Then he nudged me, saying, "Hell, if I wasn't married..." then he just laughed without finishing the sentence.
Did he really mean it? In truth, I would give anything to be his wife. Being over there all the time, I sometimes pretend to be. That bitch is hardly ever at home anyway. Usually it's just me and Mr. White, sitting together on his couch watching television.
And honestly, those are my happiest moments. Just sitting there next to him, gorging on junk food and watching our show of mutual interest.
I like to fantasize that we're a happily married couple.
More than that, I fantasize about Mr. White impregnating me. The truth is, I want to be more than just his wife. I want to have a child with him. Then I can move out of Mom's house and eat whatever the hell I want without her nagging me all the time. I'm nineteen already for Christ’s sake!
If I got myself knocked up by Mr. White, I could finally escape the clutches of my stupid mother always telling me what to do--that I need to get a job, to lose weight. It never ends. That bitch will never understand. Mr. White and I could be so happy together.
And I know he wants a piece of this ass. Mr. White is always flirting with me when his wife isn't around. Just harmless stuff really, but it lets me know he would totally fuck me given the chance.
All I would have to do is give him a little bit of encouragement--let him know that this pussy is wet and ready for him any time. I may still be a virgin, but I'm confident I know how to make it worth his while.
He even caught me masturbating on that couch once. I was feeling super depressed after an argument with my mother, so I was sobbing into a bowl of ice cream with a bag of potato chips on my lap when the urge struck me.
I saw handsome Mr. White smiling next to his wife in a framed photograph of his wedding, looking all dressed up, and I just couldn't help myself.
I imagined I was her, what we would do together the night of our honeymoon. I slipped two fingers down my pants and felt the soggy spot around my clit. I let my eyelids drop, fingering myself a little while thinking about all the naughty things I wished Mr. White would do to me.
I bit down on my lower lip and moaned softly, gyrating my hips while rubbing my two fingers in a circular motion. I thought about him entering me, filling me up with his enormous cock, wondering what it must feel like.
I spread my labia with two fingers then brought them up to my mouth, rubbing the sticky wetness over my soft lips. Then I sucked on my fingertips and licked the juices clean, moaning at the sweetness of it.
I sat up to slip my blouse off in one quick motion, then removed my pants and sprawled out on Mr. White's couch.
I brought one hand down to my breast and brought it to my mouth. I wrapped my lips around the nipple and began sucking, flicking my tongue around my nipple. My breath was becoming heavy.
The bag of chips fell and spread out on the carpet floor. The ice cream bowl tipped over on its side, dripping the melted cream onto the beige fabric of the couch. But I didn't care.
It felt too good to care.
I spread my legs out wide with a hand down my panties, dipping two fingers knuckle deep into my pussy. I whimpered at the thought of Mr. White's throbbing dick inside me, spreading my tight walls apart.
I curled my fingers to stimulate my G-spot, rocking my hips on the soft couch cushions. My tongue darted to the corner of my mouth and slid across my upper lip. I stared intently at the photograph, holding my focus on Mr. White's eyes.
My mind was going numb. I could feel a warm sensation building deep in my core. The coming orgasm was going to be tremendous. I was going to gush all over Mr. White's couch right then and there.
And then there he was, his dark silhouette filling the doorway leading to the hall in front me. I could see the white in his wide eyes piercing through the darkness. I just froze in place, spread eagle and chest bare with a hand down my panties.
Then there was a soft whisper from his direction, "P--Penny? What... the hell?" My legs began to tremble in the air; my whole body shuddered in embarrassment.
"Mr... Mr. White?" Was all I could muster. I didn't know what to think, what to do. My mind went blank.
He stepped forward into the light of the living room. His expression of disbelief was suddenly illuminated, it was even more frightening in the light. "I--I..." His eyes moved to the open bag of potato chips on the floor, then to the dripping ice cream on his expensive couch. Then his look of shock turned to anger.
"I'll let you fuck me..." was what came out of my mouth. I was just as surprised as he was. "It's the least I can do for ruining your couch." Mr. White shook his head like he couldn't believe what I was saying.
Then my body began to move almost on its own. My feet planted themselves on the floor and I stood up. As I began walking toward him, he pulled away, looking almost afraid.
"I want you to fuck me, Mr. White." I took a few more bold steps toward him, wearing only my pink lacy panties.
"Penny... what's going on? What are you talking about?" He cowered away from me as I advanced toward him with a mischievous grin.
I
caught his eyes dropping down to my big bouncing tits as I walked forward. His eyes sort of glazed over and I let out a little snicker.
"Get your fucking clothes back on!" He brought a hand out in front of his face to pretend that he was blocking his view, but I could see him peeking between his fingers. I kept walking until one of my tits connected with his outstretched palm, giggling.
"Penny, I don't want to--" He tried to pull his hand away, but I grabbed him by the wrist and held his hand there, rubbing it around in a circular motion on my breast.
"Mmmm... Just calm down...." I told him, guiding his hand downward, letting it glide over my round belly. When his fingers got to the waist of my panties, I dipped his hand beneath my panties.
"Can you feel how wet I am for you?" My wet fluids leaked from my crotch, dribbling down my thighs. I dipped two of his fingertips between my labia, coating them in my girl juices.
When I brought them up to his mouth he pursed his lips and turned away to stop me from getting him to taste it. So I leaned in and traced the flat of my wet tongue up his cheek.
"C'mon Mr. White, just a little taste?" My tongue left a wet sheen of saliva on the side of his face that glistened in the light of the living room. I brought a hand to the opposite cheek, nudging him to turn back toward me.
When he did, I brought his fingers to his trembling lips, tracing my wet juices across his bottom lip. When his lips parted a bit, I pushed the fingers past his teeth. His eyelids dropped softly and his lips wrapped around my finger when my sweetness touched the tip of his tongue.
"I think he likes it..." I beam at him, gliding my finger off his bottom lip and down his chin. Then he shook his head like he was coming out of a trance.
"Stop it!" He broke his hand free and grabbed me by the shoulders. "Penny, we can't do this..." The he shook me, saying, "I have a wife for god's sake!"
"But she isn't here now..." I grab him by the elbows and bring his hands back to my supple tits. "It's just you and me Mr. White." I leaned in close to whisper into his ear, "I'll never tell..." His eyes shot wide open when he felt my hand going down the front of his jeans.
My thumb and forefinger wrapped around his dick, stroking it gently as it grew in my hand. Mr. White's breathing quickened. I nibbled playfully on his ear and giggled.
"I'll even let you cum inside me..." I whispered. I felt the pulse of his throbbing cock beat faster. His dick was getting rock hard in my hand. I cupped his balls and grasped his chin between index finger and thumb, bringing his mouth to mine.
Our lips connected for a passionate kiss. Mr. White's eyes closed again--I could sense him giving into desire. The thought of fucking me like a whore in his living room while his wife wasn't home was overriding any sense of devotion to her.
My tongue slipped past his teeth and swirled in his mouth, and Mr. White followed suit. I felt the warm breath from his nose on my lips.
When the kiss was over, I began stroking and teasing his cock, saying "You're so big... I don't know if I can fit it all down my naughty little throat..." Then a devilish grin spread across my face and Mr. White raised one eyebrow.
I whispered in his ear once more, "But that won't stop me from trying..."
I worked hastily at his belt buckle, whipping it off with a snap that echoed against the white walls of the room. Mr. White just stood there frozen.
Any thoughts about his wife were falling to the background in the moment of me bringing his pants and briefs down to his ankles.
I got down on my knees and traced the tip of my nose along his long shaft. "Smells like good dick," I said.
Then I grazed my lips around the head and nibbled playfully on the tip. "I wonder how it tastes..." I opened my mouth wide and got it over the head.
Mr. White moaned when he felt the warm wetness of my mouth on his stiff dick. The flat of my tongue pressed against his enormous shaft as I pushed my head down on it. Deeper and deeper...
I wrapped my tongue around the base when the tip connected with the back of my throat. Then I lifted my head, coating the length of his dick in my warm saliva. Mr. White's legs began to tremble and his knees knocked together--he was having trouble standing already.
Then I pushed my head back down on his enormous cock, pushing as far down as I could go. When the head entered my esophagus, I retched and threw up a bunch of bubbly spit that oozed down his balls and wet his trimmed pubes.
But Mr. White groaned and lifted me by the cheeks up off his dick, squinting hard. Was he that close to cumming already? I guess he wasn't getting any from his wife lately if that's all it took.
"More... I want more... Please!" I opened my mouth wide and stuck my tongue out, panting like a dog in heat. A thick string of spit drooled off the tip of my tongue when I said it.
"This isn't right--" He started to say, but he shut up when he felt the warmth of my mouth around his cock again. He moaned and his head tilted back.
His hands rested on the back of my head as I sucked his cock like an expert whore. He gripped a clump of my hair tight enough to hurt my scalp when my nose connected with his hard abdomen.
With his cock lodged firmly in my esophagus, I began bobbing my head up and down the whole length. I grabbed hold of his hard thighs; my red manicured nails glinted in the dim light of the room. I used his legs as leverage to force my head down all the way.
Mr. White lurched forward and I felt his cock twitch in the depths of my throat. He was using every ounce of willpower not to cum in my mouth right then and there.
"S--Stop! You have to--stop!" But I continued sucking and slurping along his dick, shoving it in deep as it could go, gagging hard every time I got it down to the base.
The tight muscles of my throat convulsed out of reflex, squeezing the whole of his dick, coaxing him to shoot his load in the warm sogginess of my mouth wrapped tight around it.
"Mm--mm--" I moaned, gargling and spitting all over his hard cock.
"Ah--I'm--Penny, I think I'm gonna--" But as he said it, I slid myself all the way off, grinning wide and heaving to catch my breath.
"Nuh--uh... not yet, Mr. White." I said, shaking my index finger at him. "You have to stick it in my pussy first if you want to do that." I could see the immediate disappointment in his face.
He thought he could get away with just cumming in my throat. Hell, then he'd probably get away with his wife never knowing about any of this. But I'm doing this to get pregnant, after all.
He's going to have to risk a lot more than that if he wants to cum with me.
I stood up and turned my back toward him, bending over while fingering myself for him to see. I spread the lips of my pussy, telling him, "I'm ready for you." It was sopping wet with the fluids that drizzled between my thighs. "I want you! Fuck me from behind until you squirt inside me!"
But Mr. White didn't move. He just stared at me bent over in front of him as my spit dripped off his cock on to the carpet floor. I stuck my fingers between my legs and rubbed my clit a little. "Don't you want to know what it feels like to shoot your load up a virgin pussy?"
"I--we can't. I could never forgive myself if--if..."' Mr. White was stammering. His mind was full of conflicting thoughts. Part of him wanted so desperately to find out what it felt like, the other part still clung to some semblance of loyalty to his wife. I rotated my head toward him, pouting.
"Get your clothes back on and go back home," he said, sounding defeated. Tears began to well in my eyes. I had no choice but to gather my shit and just leave him there with his blue balls in hand. But I wasn't going to let him get off that easy.
This wasn't over.
He had tasted the sweetness of my virgin pussy. Nothing is going to stop me from getting what I want now. His curiosity will be eating away at him while I plan my next move. The next time we're alone, he won't stand a chance. His wife will be the last thing on his mind when I've got his face buried between my legs.
******
When I show up to Mr. White's house, he doesn't answer the doo
r. Lucky for me he told me where he kept the key. Underneath the flowerpot with the dying tulips that had been neglected since his wife went out of town.
"Mr. White?" I yell for him when I enter the hallway. My voice echoes against the bare walls of the house. Mr. And Mrs. White were never much for decoration. Once I get myself knocked up by Mr. White and move in to this big place, I definitely plan on redecorating.
I hear the sound of water running above me when I step into the living room. Then there is the squeak of an old water tap being shut closed. Lucky for me, Mr. White is just getting out of the shower.
I sneak upstairs, being careful not to creak the wooden steps of the staircase. I catch a glimpse of Mr. White wrapped in a towel as he steps into his bedroom.
Over the Couch Page 27