by K T Morrison
“That’s great, Nat. What a relief. Now you can get some lotion …”
“I don’t think so, Renny,” she laughed. “I’m not jerking you off. Besides, it looks like you’ve used enough lotion on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s very healthy looking.”
“You like it?”
“Don’t, Renny,” she warned him. “I neither like nor dislike it.”
“You have to have some sort of opinion on it.”
“No, I don’t. You want me to cover it up again?” she said, and now she bunched up the blanket as if she would hide his erection; but instead she arranged it in a heap so that it would block Nelson’s view should he come awake suddenly.
“No, leave it uncovered.”
“I can say that it’s really big.”
“And healthy.”
“Yes. And healthy.”
“You want to touch it?”
“No. I’m not going to touch it, Renny.”
“But you want to.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. For the same reason you uncovered it.”
“Oh, is this where you say I’m horny again?”
“Not horny. Curious.”
He had her there. She was curious. “Sure. Yes. I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sure that was a real dick under there.”
“Why not?”
“You know … it was so… big …”
“It’s real,” he said. “Put your hand on it.”
“No,” she said firmly, but that firmness wavering into a slight giggle at the end.
“Come on,” he urged. “Just get it over with.”
“No,” she said, and now she returned her attention to the TV, crossing her arms over her chest and acting disinterested. But, while on-screen, young Randy thrashed on the ground in his snowsuit, her eyes kept darting back to Renny’s dick. Now her feet were wagging, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she sighed.
With a glance to Nelson, seeing his head buried under the pillow still, she got a little closer to Renny and brought her right hand over between his legs. Renny pushed his hips forward to make it easy for her. She hesitated, hand held in a wide ‘C’ an inch away from gripping him. His cock was huge, and seeing her hand in scale right next to it was actually kind of exciting. She went for it. Wrapped her hand around it just below the head.
“Fuck, that is big,” she said.
Her middle finger and thumb just met to touch. The skin was warm and gummy, and underneath, the pills that he’d been given had turned him into a steel column. “That is the hardest I’ve ever felt a dick,” she said. He was almost twice as long as Nelson, and she didn’t even think Nelson was small. In fact her experience with guys had all the penises she knew in equal esteem. Pretty much interchangeable. An inch variation in length, roughly the same thickness, but pretty much the same size penis over and over again.
Renny lifted his hips again and his thumbs worked his jeans farther down his thighs, exposing his scrotum. Her hand drifted down to see if they were real as well. They were strange; incredibly large, not sagging, not drawn up inside his body either, but held together in a big round sack around the size of a tennis ball. She gripped it, found it too much for her hand, used her fingers to manipulate the two shapes inside. “Even your balls are huge,” she said.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he groaned.
She broke her gaze from what she held in her hand, eyes going up to Renny. She said, “I’m not trying to make you feel good.”
He smirked, his puffy eye opened enough now she could see the black pupil in the narrow black-lash slit.
“What?” she said, “I’m not.”
“I didn’t say you were,” he said with a smile.
Her eyes returned to her hand; her fingers continued to manipulate his huge testicles and then her grip went around the base of his cock. Here she couldn’t get her fingers to close. “I can’t even get my hand around it,” she said.
“Now can you admit you like it?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“You’ve never been with a guy with a big cock?”
“No.”
“Stroke it a little.”
She did. Let her hand grip the skin and move up and down his shaft.
“Tell me you like it.”
“I like it,” she whispered.
“Stroke it a little more. Stroke it higher.”
She got even closer now, her shoulder working into his armpit, his arm draped over the back of the couch. She whispered to him: “Do you want a hand job?”
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned.
She reached to the blanket and bunched it a little bit higher, making sure that what she did couldn’t be seen. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard her vision shook with each beat. She licked her palm, gave another quick darting glance to the pillow that covered her husband’s face, then put that hand around the head of Renny’s cock.
While the glans gleamed, it wasn’t wet, but it was smooth as silk under her fingertips. He made a deep groaning sound that she heard and felt on her cheek that lay on his chest. She didn’t want to think of Renny so she shut him out, angled her head so that all she looked at was the thing she held in her hand. She worked her spit around the top of his cock, doing it in circles, polishing it, listening to that growling sound in his chest as he enjoyed what she did. She’d rather not hear that.
Then she stroked and swirled her grip on the slippery end of him, just a few inches; up and down, around in circles—as her hand moved quicker so did her pulse rate. His cock was incredibly hard. And so huge in her little hand. The thing she held was so much larger than their husband’s. Almost unreal. And for some reason ferociously sexy. She couldn’t believe her cousin slept with this guy. Couldn’t believe the thing she held in her hand would go inside her. Valerie wasn’t very big. The same size as Natalie. How would this fit inside her?
CHAPTER 15
NELSON
T he action of her hand was hidden behind a heap of blanket, but he could occasionally see the tip of Renny’s cock, and his wife’s fore-knuckle stroking up and down in pale flashes. He couldn’t believe that Natalie had succumbed. He watched the wink-wink-wink of her hand as it stroked up and down his old housemate. Listened to the wet smacking sound of her spit-glistened grip.
A swirling black ball of negative energy swirled in the pit of his stomach. His thighs were clenched, his leg muscles like iron. His greatest fear right now was that he wouldn’t be able to control himself—would jump up and grab her by the wrist and yank her off the couch. The truth was he didn’t want that. He didn’t know what he wanted—or rather couldn’t believe what he wanted; because right now he was content to lay here and spy on his wife as she stroked another man’s cock.
Natalie drew her feet up onto the couch now, sitting so that Renny had his arm around her, her head on his chest, her eyes glued to the horrid thing she did with her hand. She liked watching it. Liked watching her grip on another man’s cock. A man she didn’t even like. A man she had stomped her foot about disinviting to the wedding. And Nelson was the one who had dug his feet in for Renny. Wanted Renny there on their day of union. Now look at him. Now look at her.
When Renny’s hand drifted from where it rested on the back of the couch and made its way to rest on Natalie’s hip, Nelson was sure this was where he would end it. Maybe he could convince himself not to jump up and make a scene; not jump up, grab this pillow and start swinging it at their faces … Perhaps he could just yawn and stretch, give them a warning and they would stop on their own. Found that he couldn’t. Remained where he was. Watched with a pounding pulse.
Renny drew his hand up from her hip to her narrow waist, the colors of his tattooed arms flashing in the light from the table lamp. He gripped Natalie’s braless breast, and Nelson’s breath clutched in his throat. But now Natalie’s face grew discontent. Eyebrows coming down, a crease forming in the middle, her mouth pouting. She grunted a
Unh-unh, and he saw her other free hand come to brush Renny’s hand away from her breast. Renny smiled and his head fell back on the cushions, eyes closed.
Natalie’s stroke grew faster. And it appeared she chewed the inside of her lip. He liked to think she had second thoughts now. Once Renny had touched her breast she seemed to realize how terrible an action this might be. Or at least that’s what he hoped was happening in her mind. However, she still seemed intent on finishing the hand job. And while it gripped his heart, he couldn’t deny an ecstasy that was rising within him. As her hand stroked, he felt the same imaginary ghost-grip on his own half-size erection. It was quite possible that watching her do this to another man could make him come without even being touched.
Now Renny’s hand was moving again, starting on her hip, palm and fingers spreading like if you cupped a basketball, but reaching down and gripping Natalie’s ass. Natalie frowned again, and wriggled her hips. Renny persisted, and Nelson could see his fingers working like a spider to pull the hem of her long reindeer T-shirt higher up her thighs.
And then he must’ve touched her because Natalie sighed and closed her eyes, her lips parting with pleasure. Her knees drew open wide like a butterfly, and Nelson could see that Renny stroked her pussy over her pink panties with his two middle fingers.
Soon the pale pink cotton grew stained with wet from the excitement Renny’s touch brought her. The fingers stroked and dug at her, making a deep channel in her cloven sex, mashing and poking her panties until they were almost inside her. Natalie grunted complaints while she still stroked his huge cock but still kept her legs open, and Nelson clearly saw that her hips gently thrusted against the prodding of Renny’s fingers.
It was too much—a complete system shutdown about to happen, his brain incapable of making sense of what he saw and rectifying it with his body’s honest reaction. It was completely possible he would ejaculate while he watched, his hips bucked and he fought to keep them rigid. The muscles in his forearms and hands twitched and jumped and he would give the whole thing away in a moment when he was sure he would cry out in ecstasy.
Renny’s fingers still worked Natalie’s sweet little pussy, but now Nelson saw them stroke at the edge of the panty’s trim. Natalie grunted a breathy objection but Renny’s fingers didn’t heed, instead disappearing behind the cotton to touch her bare wet sex. Nelson knew what he would feel, and his brain received slippery—but imaginary—signals as though Nelson did the touching.
Natalie gasped as Renny penetrated her with a finger, but now she closed her thighs, bringing her knees together. “Mmn-mnh … no, no, don’t do that,” she whispered. Then: “Just come, okay? Just come.”
Focus renewed on his sex totem, her eyes watched her own hand slip up and down, Renny’s head falling back to the couch again, hand removed from between her legs but still spread on her haunch.
As Nat’s stroking grew quicker, Nelson realized it was because Renny had spewed pre-come, his cock head glistening now like it was wet, his wife’s hand also shining, making slick kiss–kiss–kiss sounds.
That was also when he became convinced he’d been caught; not by his wife but by Renny who seemed to smirk, head cocked to one side, peering into the gap between the cushion and the couch where Nelson hid his face. His heart gave a jump and he narrowed his gaze in case a reflection from the wet of his eye gave him away. Renny continued to stare and Nelson held his breath.
The blanket that blocked his view of Natalie’s stroking came down. Renny pushed it with one hand, exposing to Nelson how his wife gave his huge cock a hand job. Natalie’s slender grip stroked with purpose, and Renny’s organ made it look so small. She could barely get her hand around it. He made a low groaning sound, wincing with erotic pain; then managed to swallow it.
Renny gasped, “That’s it, shit, oh, that’s it,” eyes lowering to Natalie’s hand stroking him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, here it comes,” he groaned. Natalie jerked faster. Her clumsy grip spread wide by Renny’s thick size, the tendons and muscle in her forearm flexing.
“Mm, ah, yeah, here it comes,” he grunted, hips rising off the couch, then the hand on her haunch moving to the back of her head, saying, “Shit, keep it off the couch, keep it off the couch,” guiding her head to his tip.
And Natalie didn’t resist.
Nelson saw her sex–hazy eyes, unfocused and half-lidded as they watched the hole in his cock, ready for its eruption, lips pouting, allowing her mouth to be guided.
“That’s it,” Renny hissed, “put it in your mouth, Natty …”
Renny growled and roared then, Natalie swirling and stroking, lips open, lowering still closer, Nelson seeing one quick white pulse jet into her waiting mouth.
CHAPTER 16
NATALIE
F or one split second she thought she might be okay. The unbelievably lubricious action that played out on the couch she bought with Nelson at Pier One on the first Black Friday after their wedding was without a doubt the most sexually exciting thing she’d done in her entire life. But as Renny’s semen continued to spurt into her mouth she knew she was in big trouble. Not from anyone but herself …
Put your mouth on it, he’d said, implying he was going to ejaculate all over her couch otherwise. Blanket right there to cover it, collect his spunk, but she willingly put his cock in her mouth. The original rationalization had been: just a hand job, pretty bad but not terrible, definitely better than a blow job or intercourse …
It was so fucking hot. Seeing his big cock in her hand, having him touch her hip (God, between her legs, though that wasn’t allowed), and even knowing he was close—that she would make him come—then he was … A lot. Spurting in her mouth with shocking force, then her lips wrapped the glans and she felt that glossy skin against her tongue, could feel the urethra part as more come shot out of him.
That was the moment when she knew she wouldn’t be okay.
Nelson lay where he could see her, sleeping, a guy she didn’t even like coming in her mouth. His come tasted like barbecued meat. There was too much of it. She swallowed some and retched. It kept coming, splashing around her teeth and against her cheeks.
Now she sat up. Took a shaky hand and brought the blanket up to cover that huge cock. Her stomach roiled unexpectedly and she retched again, acidic burning in her esophagus. Off the couch and onto her knees, she made her way to the coffee table and wrapped both hands around her tumbler of half-finished eggnog. With her back hunched, turning completely away from where Nelson lay, she spewed Renny’s semen out of her pouted lips, coughing and gagging again as its taste came back to her. She belched.
“Fuck, Nat, you’re good,” Renny groaned behind her.
Her head hung over her forearms, draped over the edge of the table, glass of semen and eggnog pushed away. She peeked through a gap in her hanging hair to see her husband still laying with a pillow over his head.
“Fuck,” she whispered softly, beat the centre of her forehead on the cold glass of the table.
Up then, getting the fuck out, her glass held in a fingertip claw, going around the couch without looking at Renny, who grunted, “You okay?” and she passed without answering, making her way to the kitchen.
Once beyond the dark of the vestibule, she felt the emotions start to get the better of her. Nelson was a good man. The best. He didn’t deserve this betrayal. Her vision warbled with welling tears and she stumbled to the kitchen sink. The room was dim and warm, Nelson cranking the furnace tonight. The only light came from the under-cabinet strips, and she saw the ladle her husband used to pour their egg nog, cleaned and laying on the counter waiting to provide them refills. She sobbed once and clapped a hand over her mouth.
She whisked the lever on the sink hard to the right and blasted cold water. Rinsed out her egg nog and spit-up semen, watched it splash around the drain, lay the glass down with a heavy thunk in its swirling pattern. Put her hands in the stream till they ached with the cold and then pressed those cold digits into her eyes, massaged her cheeks.
A warm hand rested in the center of her back and she groaned, knew by touch that it wasn’t her husband.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t, Renny.”
“You okay?” His voice low, imitating concern.
“No,” she said.
Now his hands appeared, bracing the counter on either side of her. She watched the colorful tattoos squirm on the muscles of his olive wrists. His face came near her ear, could feel his breath on the nape of her neck …
“Don’t,” she said again. “Don’t try to console me.”
“I’m not here to console you,” he said, and he moved around behind her, his grip holding the curled edge of their counter as he dipped at the knees. Something hot pressed against her. His cock. He’d slipped it up underneath her long T-shirt.
“Please, Renny, I don’t want to …”
One of his hands came to rest on her tummy over her T-shirt, the other went under the shirt, pulling on her panties, his cock slipping under the fabric to press along her bare soft ass cheek.
“God, Renny,” she sighed. He humped it up and down, running it under the strip of cotton that crested her buttock over top of her hip.
He kissed her neck, just below her ear and her skin snapped up with electric gooseflesh. Her nipples shot out. She shivered.
Renny whispered, “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Natty …”