S is for SEX

by Scott Hildreth

  Every time I wanted to try to have sex, or reached for his crotch, he said, no. I should have known he had a green bean dick. Bastard. But who would have ever guessed he had lemons for balls? It all happened in about three minutes, but had scarred me for two years now.

  We were in my bed making out. He reached down, unbuckled his jeans, and told me to get under the covers. I finished getting undressed and complied with his wish. Finally, we were going to have sex. Thank God, I thought. I had visions of an hour or two of sweaty heart racing sex. Screaming and yelling, several different positions - biting, scratching, and moaning. After all, my parents were out of town.

  He crawled under the covers and dropped his jeans in one fluid motion. The anticipation was killing me. I had watched a lifetime of porn in preparation of this night. I had every intention of fucking this guy beyond his ability to comprehend. In an instant, he mounted me, and I felt his finger slide inside my pussy. It felt like it was his pinky finger. This was a really good start…pinky-finger banging me. Give me that dick, dude. Bring it.

  His ass began to rise and fall. His finger slid in and out. When is he going to give it to me? I couldn’t take it. Not any longer. Encouragement, he needs encouragement. I reached down, feeling like if he had a little reassurance he’d let me have it. As soon as my hand reached the southern region I realized he wasn’t fingering me. He was fucking me. The palm of my hand was filled with two balls the size of lemons. Above those lemon sized nuts was a finger sized dick. I immediately let go of his skin covered lemons. I blinked my eyes and tried to digest what had just happened.

  I winced, jerked my hand back, and may have laughed a little bit. I’m pretty sure I did. Out loud.

  As soon as I let go of the skin-lemons, he pulled out, climbed on top of my chest and commenced to shove his #2 pencil sized dick into my mouth - screaming the entire time.

  “Suck it. Suck that cock. Suck it all,” he screamed.

  All? All of it? Seriously? It’s annoying. It’s like a finger in my mouth, you retard. Get off of me.

  I reached up, and attempted to push him and his little boy wiener off of my face, and that’s when I brushed against them again. The lemons. I almost screamed. A combination of him humping my mouth, my hand grazing his lemon-sized balls, and the passage of time proved to be more than he could take. He erupted as I was pushing him off of my face.

  Erupted.

  The only person that could ever really know what it was like to have this happen is someone that has had a drink tossed in their face. A 16 ounce glass of beer. As soon as I touched his balls, he pulled out of my mouth and exploded. I felt like someone threw an entire glass of warm mayonnaise on my face and into my hair.

  I screamed, and grabbed my face in horror. I couldn’t see. I wiped my hands on my comforter as he dismounted me and started to get his jeans on. I wiped my face again. Covered in his cum, I tried unsuccessfully to wipe my eyes free of his blinding goo. As I heard him buckle his belt, I could finally see a silhouette. A halo.

  I squinted.

  He smiled. Asshole.

  And then he left.

  I never saw him again. I spent the next hour trying to clean that sticky mess out of my hair and off of my bed - and two years trying to get the thought of his green bean out of my mind; the green bean and those goddamned lemons. The end result? I have spent the last two years watching porn, and using it as my only means of visual satisfaction. I have become a nymphomaniac - rubbing one out on a whim....to the tune of about a dozen times or so a day.

  In my car. On the porch. At work. At a stop light. In the bathroom at the bookstore. School. It didn’t matter. But I just finished my sophomore year in college, and I am so tired of masturbating. I have had enough. I want to get out and get some dick.

  Sex. Something sexual. I am ready. I need laid.

  “Show me a picture of Randy’s dick,” I begged as I put my beer bottle down on the table. I pulled another out of the bucket of ice on the table.

  Heather coughed and laughed. “I can’t believe you.”

  “Believe me. I’ve had green bean boy, and seen porn. That’s my sexual experience, to date. All I have ever seen is pictures. Let me see it,” I demanded.

  This was not me; it was clearly the alcohol talking. I really wanted to see it. She had talked about it for years. As big as her wrist and a foot long; now that could make up for green bean boy. A dick the size of an arm.

  “I know you have a picture on your phone. Everyone does,” I pleaded.

  She pulled her phone off of the table, and squinted through her glasses at the screen. As she scrolled through her pictures, I wondered if she really had one. I hoped. I began to try to think what it would feel like to have an actual man inside of me. I shuddered. I’ve been in this bar too long. I didn’t eat. I never eat. I rotated my head from left to right trying to find a clock. There was nothing. I stopped looking, but my head kept spinning - inside. I almost vomited. Everything began to spin, including Heather. Not again.

  “I’m drunk.” I declared.

  What a surprise.

  “Found it,” she said, holding her phone in front of my watering eyes.

  I reached for her phone and got a handful of air.

  “Chris, you’re toast. Holy shit, what happened?” she asked, laughing.

  I held my head with both my hands, trying unsuccessfully to steady it. It felt like I was holding a watermelon. I threw up in my mouth a little bit more than a ‘just a little bit’. Oh wow, I ate something. I really wanted to see Randy’s dick.

  Sober up, Christy, sober up.

  I swallowed. Oh shit. That burns.

  “I’ll be alright. I got here thirty minutes before you. Gimme a minute,” I explained as I attempted to focus on her phone. Just reach out toward it until your fingers touch it. Squeeze and return. I was talking to my brain, and my brain was talking to my hand, but my hand wasn’t listening. It was keeping my head from falling on the floor. I closed my eyes to recharge my brain.

  “But in thirty more minutes, I am not going to be half as drunk as you,” she said, laughing.

  “Slide it over here, dork. My head is killing me,” with one eye open I held my breath and waited.

  She slid her phone across the table. I opened the other eye. I let go of my head with one hand. Success. I reached for the phone. I held it in front of my face and looked at the screen. Black.

  “It’s blank.”

  “Give it here,” she said in an aggravated tone as she snatched the phone from my grasp.

  “There, make it quick,” she said as she handed the phone to me.

  I stared at the screen. Randy stood in front of me. The screen was the size of a pack of cigarettes, and I was drunk. One thing, however, was crystal clear. Randy was standing there with an arm that was shaped like a dick hanging from between his legs.

  “Jesus, Heather,” I screamed.

  I closed my eyes. I opened them. Closed. Open. It didn’t matter. This was real. Randy had a huge dick. It was half hard, and half soft. And one hundred percent huge. Hanging. And huge. I thought of Randy on top of me, filling me with dick. Fuck me Randy. Fuck me. Oh God Randy, fuck me.

  “Give it here, before you slobber on it,” she snarled as she grabbed the phone from my hands.

  I pulled my hand back, but I was too late, the phone and dick were both gone. This had gone on long enough. Something had to happen.

  “I wanna for the summer,” I said.

  “What?” Heather looked confused.

  “Huh?” I was confused.

  “You said, I wanna for the summer,” she said.

  “Yep,” I said affirmatively.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” she responded, squinting.

  I wanna for the summer. I wanna what for the summer? I wanna. I wanna talk you into having Randy fuck me. I want to have a few guys fuck me. I want to sex. I want to make up for all of the sex I haven’t had in the last two years. That’s what I want. I want sex.

  “
What’s it feel like?” I asked.

  “What’s what feel like?” she volleyed back.

  “Randy,” I paused, “when he bones you. What’s it feel like?”

  “You need to sober up, Christy. You always do this,” she whined, waving her arms in my direction.

  “I didn’t have any food. That’s the problem. You had a sandwich and half a bowl of soup,” I said as I wiped the slobber from my lip.

  I glanced down at the sheen on the back side of my hand and wondered if this was actually too much. I tried to count. I’ll have a Bud Light. Gimme another Bud Light. Another. I’ll have another. Yo, dude. Hey, I’m empty. I wiped my hand on my jeans and looked up. In a few seconds, everything came into focus. I had to pee, but I didn’t dare stand up now. Not now. I pushed down with my legs and relieved some of the weight on my chair. This may just work. As my body began to rise, I glanced around the room in wonder. Nine, I think I had nine.

  “What are you doing, you’re going to tip over,” Heather peered up at me through her glasses, shaking her head.

  “I gotta pee,” I said, pointing to the bathroom.

  “It’s the other direction. Jesus, Chris,” she shook her head again.

  I turned and looked the other direction. She was right. I turned to where I had originally pointed. The parking lot. Good thing she stopped me. She called me Chris when she was angry with me. She was generally angry with me when we went drinking. I always ended up having one too many. Just one. But it was that one that always did the damage. I took a step and rotated my hips to change directions.

  As I stumbled to the bathroom, I thought about Randy’s dick. According to Heather, it would be a cock. With a capital “C”. All caps. The big guy. A nice big cock. That thing would tear my shit up.

  I want torn up. Filled up. Beat up.

  I have seen so much porn in the last two years that I have become kind of warped. Almost every night, I watch porn and masturbate. From what everyone tells me, I am very lucky. I can climax in a matter of seconds. And I can continue to climax every few minutes until I am just exhausted. From what I could see in the four thousand hours of porn I had watched, I had a really big clit. It may play a part in my early and repeated orgasms. I really didn’t care; I loved making myself have orgasms.

  As I finished peeing, my body shuddered. I lifted my head from my hands and glanced up. Peeing, to me, was sobering. It was like I was relieving my body of all of the toxins. I wiped and started to pull up my jeans. Randy. All caps Randy. I sat down.

  I stuck my middle finger in my mouth, and licked around the circumference of it a few times. My finger licking was all of the foreplay that I needed. With my left hand, I pulled my hood back and exposed my clit. I looked between my legs. It stared back at me, glistening. Ready. I pulled my finger from my mouth and slid it past my lips and in up to my knuckle. Oh God. I curled it upward a few times. In. Out. In, curl, curl, and curl. Out. Holy fuck here we go. Deeper. Deeper.

  My eyes rolled back into my head.

  One.

  I looked down and opened my eyes.

  I pulled my finger out. Soaked with my juices, I began rubbing my clit. The way I had seen women in porn rub their clit was one thing. The way I rubbed mine was another. I didn’t believe in wasting time. I rubbed it like I was mad at it. It worked well for me, and that’s all that mattered.

  I pulled my hood back, and slid my finger inside my pussy again. In…out…in…out…in. Curl, curl, curl.

  Holy. Jesus. Fuck yes.

  In. out. In. Out. In and out in and out in and out in and out in and out in and out in…. godfuckingdamnthisfeelsgoodasfuckkkkk.

  Two.

  I opened my eyes again. My poor deprived clit. This was awful. I pulled my finger from my pussy and pulled back my hood again. I touched my clit with the tip of my finger. A tingle shot through my spine. Here we go. I circled it with my finger, and started to tickle it. Circle, tickle, circle, tickle circle, tickle, rub, rub, rub, rub. Rub harder, rub, harder, rub, harder, harder, harder.

  Son of a fucking bitch.

  This. Is. Going. To. Kill. Me.

  My eyes rolled backward into my head again. I rubbed. I shoved my finger inside my pussy as deep as I could and pulled it out. Back to the clit. Rub. Rub. Rub.

  Oh my God fucking damn. Oh my. Oh my fucking Jesus,…oh my God.

  Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes. Oh. My. God. Here we fucking go.

  My entire body shook. Like an earthquake. The kind of orgasm that makes you want to just stop rubbing one out. The one that actually satisfies you.

  Three.

  I sat in the stall, teeth clenched, with my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Drunk and exhausted. I looked down at my swollen clit. My hand was covered in cum. I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Something wasn’t right. I tasted something…

  Blood.

  Fuck. In my earthquake of orgasms, I must have bit my inner cheek. I pushed my tongue into my cheek. Yep. Swollen. Bleeding. Shit. Oh well it was worth it. I wiped, pulled up my jeans, and opened the stall door. Damn, that sobered me up. I felt fine.

  I examined myself in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing my glasses today, and I had just chopped all of my hair off, so Heather and I appeared to be sisters; not twins. I stood and admired myself. I turned sideways. I swiveled and glanced over my shoulder. I was kind of curvy, but I looked damn good. Damn good. My ass was round and fat, my boobs were big, but I didn’t have an ounce of fat. A blond haired skinny Kim Kardashian. Randy had always told Heather she was built for fucking.

  Proud of my newfound sobriety and my gorgeous looks, I walked to the table.

  “You alright?” Heather asked as I was sitting down.

  “Great,” I said as I scanned the table for a glass of water.

  “You were gone a while. You…you didn’t?”

  I nodded.

  “I swear. How many?” she asked..

  I held up three fingers proudly. I spread them apart so she could count them.

  “I envy you. God. Three?’ she asked with little surprise in her voice.

  “Tres,” I bragged, holding my three fingers in the air.

  I nodded my head as Spoon’s, I Turn My Camera On played over the sound system. She squinted, shook her head, and took her last drink of Margarita.

  “Order another drink and a glass of water, we need to talk,” I said, my mind spinning at a different pace than my swollen head.

  “About?”

  “I have an idea,” I offered, smiling.

  “What?” she asked excitedly.

  “Order your drink,” I giggled.

  You’re going to need it.

  CHRISTY

  Six o’clock on a Wednesday was a strange time to have a threesome, but I was fine with this. If I was going to make my way through the alphabet this summer, I would have to be open to almost anything. With my back pack over my shoulder, and Beth hanging onto my shirt, we went up the steps. I thought about getting my first dick. Hopefully this dude has a cock.

  “Number 316. Beth, we’re here. You ready?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” she responded, glancing down at the floor.

  Ahhh. Reassurance. Perfect. She’ll be a load of fun.

  I knocked on the door. I heard the bolt turn and the door opened slowly. Adam stood on the other side, wearing the same clothes he was wearing before. The house smelled of incense and weed.

  “Hey Adam, this is Beth,” I said as we walked in.

  “Hey, uhhmm…”

  “Christy. Christy and Beth. Beth this is Adam,” I said as I tried to shake Beth off my hip.

  “Hi Adam. You’re tall,” the word tall hung on her lips for several seconds. She looked up and down his torso as she said it.

  Adam walked into the house and sat on the sofa. I followed him, and Beth followed me. We sat on a love seat to the side of Adam. I figured I would roll the dice and see what he said. He’d already agreed to the threesome, so there wouldn’t be much harm in telling
him.

  “So, Adam. Well…I made a bet with my girlfriend that I could fuck my way through the alphabet this summer. I have to go in alphabetical order, and using first or last names, I can get a letter per person. You’re the first, because you’re an “A”. Are you okay with this?” I asked quickly.

  As I spoke, he leaned down, placing his head in his hands, and his elbows on his knees. He looked at me and blinked. Oh for fuck’s sake, this dude is baked.

  “Uhhmm. Yeah, yeah, that’s cool,” he muttered.

  He blinked again.

  “So, you cool with the three of us? All of us getting it on?

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” he said in a slow quiet whisper.

  Fuck, this dude was going to be a real fucking bore. Well, at least he’ll be a letter off the list. Well…two counting Beth.

  I looked at Beth. She was sitting erect, and staring at Adam. Hell, it appeared she was sobering up a little. This might not be so bad after all. I leaned over to Beth, cupped my mouth with my hand, and whispered in her ear.

  “You wanna start by going over and sucking his cock, Beth?”

  Her head started nodding before I actually finished speaking.

  “You sure you’re okay with this? There’s really no turning back after we start. Remember, it’s only kinky the first time,” I laughed as I whispered.

  She continued nodding, and responded. “I’ve done this before, don’t worry.”

  Shit. That’s right. She said her boyfriend and her had a few threesomes. Right on.

  Beth stood, walked over to Adam, and kneeled on the floor in front of him. He looked at her, puzzled. She reached up and started unzipping his pants. As she reached for his zipper, he flinched.

  Oh, great. He’s scared.

  I put my back pack on the floor beside me, and shook my head as I watched Beth struggle with his jeans. He appeared to be helping her, but she shuffled into a position that prevented me from seeing him. Her head went into his lap and he leaned into the sofa. She began to slowly move up and down - her head going into his lap deeper as he arched his back.

  “Holy fuck. Oh my God,” he said as he sat up.