The day after Lula offered me Jaymes, he texted me. The text was sweet and charming. It said, Hey, 1422 Lake St.#3. 10p. It said everything I wanted to know.
I remember it was a Tuesday because I was off that night. I wore jeans, a t-shirt, and flip-flops—no bra and no panties. I wanted to wear something easy to slip out of; my expectations didn’t include being dressed for long. I got to his apartment complex right on time. When I made it to his door, I found it curiously ajar, so, of course, doing what any woman of my breed would do, I opened it enough to slip in. I had worked myself into such a state of horniness that red flags or little dangers weren’t going to sway me. It's what made it so exciting. I thought This is cool—why not leave the door ajar and tempt me to enter at my own risk? So clever! He better be game-on because I want to play and play hard. God help me if it’s anyone or anything else.
I have to admit I was shaking a little when I took the step into the apartment. The only light in the room seemed to be what I was letting in from the street through the open door. I held onto the doorknob so that I would have enough light to look around the room, not to mention leaving an opportunity open for a quick exit, when suddenly the door was pushed closed with a slam! I jumped scared shitless and let out an amplified Fuck! in an upper pitch of my voice. It was completely dark, and I felt blind and helpless. I considered trying for the door again, but a large hand quickly slipped around my throat from behind. I told myself that this was going to be either a fantastic sensual encounter beyond my wildest dreams, or it was a goddamn big mistake. There was nothing I could do at that point except to find out. I didn't try to fight or resist and thought the wisest thing to do was what he wanted me to, and hope for the best.
I could hear and feel his breathing on the back of my neck. I was getting really fucking anxious now, but if I feared for my life, it was only for a moment or two before he said, “Be still and don’t say anything,” and I was pretty sure I recognized his voice. He then slipped his other hand up my shirt and squeezed my right tit. He pulled me backward and into him, and I could feel that he was already naked and hard. He wasn't wearing any cologne, and I smelled the sweet, natural aroma of his body that made me want to lean into him more and start licking him all over. I held onto his arm that was draped over me and holding my neck. He held me there for about half-a-minute, squeezing my nipple harder as he made adjustments of his grip on my throat. The painful pleasure was making me moan, and I could feel the sound travel through my air pipe. Then he moved his hand from my neck to under my t-shirt and began to lift it over my head. I instinctively raised my arms, and the shirt was gone. His hands slowly ran down my breast and abdomen and began unbuttoning my shorts. I was going to help him by loosening them from my waist, but they fell to the floor quickly on their own. I stepped out of them and my flip-flops, as he turned me around to face him.
I felt his hand grab a bunch of hair on the back of my head and used it to guide my face to his. Then we began some wet and serious kissing. His lips were soft and large and covered my mouth no matter how wide I opened it. His breath was hot, and his tongue easily defeated mine. He had one arm firmly around me, while his other hand was on the back of my head, pushing my face against his. He started twisting and torturing my nipples until they were tender and swollen before he brought his hand down to pet my aroused and anxious cunt. We were still standing and kissing where he first held me just a couple of steps from the door. I wanted him to take me—take me to his bed and fill me with his long hot cock when he stuck a couple of his long, slippery fingers deep inside of me. I gasped and tried to arch my back and pressed my stomach against him, and my sensitive nipples brushed against his smooth chest. I lost my breath when I felt the sturdy shaft of his hard cock pressing up against my pussy. I wanted him to fuck me now. I couldn’t resist reaching down and held his tool’s triple-plus size girth in my hand while my other gripped an ass cheek. His body was hard and muscular, and I knew he could break me in half if he wanted to. I desperately wanted his goddamn hot, meaty cock inside of me; my pussy wrapped tightly around his long, plunging shaft. Everything was happening so fucking fast, and I was already delirious and taken by his strength and sexual aggression.
After pleasure torturing my craving pussy while he devoured my mouth for I don’t know how long, he removed his fingers and flipped a light switch. A low-light lamp lit up in the far corner. He guided me with his hand on my ass to the other end of the room that was larger than I was expecting when it was dark, with a couch, a couple of chairs, tv, and other furniture. I was dazed as he was leading me deeper into his lair, and I thought to myself, Does this mean I’m good enough to eat?
He led me to the side of the couch and told me to sit on the padded arm, so I did, with my back facing the cushioned seat. "Lie down," he commanded softly, and braced me with an arm and lowered my back to where I was lying on the seat with my butt at the arm, and my legs in the air and bent at my knees. He kneeled down between them and put his hands under my ass cheeks to steady and lift me to his mouth like I was a fucking course for dinner—and the eating began! Starters: cunt soup? His mouth had full access to my juiciness, and he laid his tongue on top of it. My elated pussy began to fill with flows of my wet passion under his large, thick tongue and was giving him all he wanted; then he licked it slowly, from bottom to the top, inserting the tip of his tongue into the soft, sensitive lips of my quivering pussy. He savored my taste as he lifted my font to his mouth once again—looking like a hunter relishing his stew. Then I could feel his large soft lips engulfing my whole pussy as he began to tickle my clit with his tongue, then lick slowly down and finding my fuck hole and filled it with the same surprisingly long and dexterous tongue deep inside of me, and moved his mouth and sucked like he was now eating a fruit, and my generous nectar was dripping from his lips and chin. He was slow at first, but it grew more intense as he moved his tongue harder and faster, then sticking it in me deep and holding it there—pressing it against the roof of my pussy, close to that special spot that Julio had found; sending me to the clouds.
Sometimes he would slow down and take his time tasting the banquet he had conjured with his mouth. His tongue kept massaging my clit and slipping inside of me, and I started feeling goddamn all of me start swelling with rushing blood. It seemed to build up forever, and I didn’t care where I was or what or who. I was wondering if I was ever going to climax until it hit me like a giant, breaking ocean wave. I let out a loud cry of fuck ecstasy as he continued his vigorous tongue action in and out of me. For a while, I was in another place and time, in complete euphoria, as my lungs continued to gasp and my toes curled while he licked. Finally, he began to slow and soften his stroking tongue, and I felt some control of my body return as I sunk into the cushions. All I needed then was a hard monster fuck with his oversized beauty.
But he had other ideas. He got up and stood at my legs and moved his gaze up and down my body and face. While he studied me, I studied his monster cock. It was long and thick even when it wasn’t stiff. It looked a good twelve inches and a girth I couldn’t quite wrap my fingers around. His balls hung low and matched the size of his dick. I understood why Lula might have had a hard time accommodating his dimensions. Her body would probably never be the same, and I wasn’t sure how mine was going to be, either, before the night was over.
He pushed on my legs to turn me, and I got the hint that he wanted me to sit up in a normal position in the seat and my back against the back of the sofa. Then he stood in front of me as I sat on the cushions—his legs standing between my knees so he could position his complete package to dangle in front of my face. Again, his manly aroma and pheromones emblazoned my desire for more slut action and induced me to acknowledge some uncharted strong and raw impulses inside of me that were making me only interested in giving—giving anything, everything, all; as much as he wanted was as much as I wanted to give. I was so much over the line in slutmode that I would have done anything he said. I was being driven to act by forces and em
otion that had no shame or limits. Some of that drive must have been underlying fear of his strength and aggression and what harm he could do to me; some of it an instinctive and over-willing desire for approval, right or wrong, by satisfying him and be worthy; and more, from somewhere deep in my brain that pushed me to get more—to be more—to be as slutty as I needed to be. I couldn’t say why I got like this, but it had to be something primal and uncivilized that my body and psyche demanded beyond my control. It was as much a part of me as my tears.
As he stood in front of me, he directed me with his hand to come closer to him and kept his hand in motion until I was on the edge of the seat, and my nose was only a foot from his crotch. His organ was semi-rigid and standing at forty-five degrees from his balls to the floor. As I took note and measure of his beastly cock, my body felt like it was starting to swell again, and my fucking mouth began to water. I’ve deep-throated plenty of larger than average johnsons and have learned a thing or two about how to get them down my throat. But Jayme’s was a new big-league challenge, and I saw trouble ahead if he wanted me to park his bus down there in gag alley. I wasn’t kidding myself; it was going to be a nasty task. Fortunately, I had been too excited to eat anything since an early breakfast, so fucking vomiting wasn’t going to be an issue. No small relief there. I could also give myself some consolation, knowing from experience, that when the shaft is long enough, my gag reflex settled down once the head got past the back of my throat. So, when he’s pushing the salami, and I take a gulp at the same time, I can swallow him whole without all the hacking—or breathing either, for that matter. But jesuschrist, I didn’t know if Jayme’s long, girthy cock would even fit in my fucking throat!
He directed the point of his beckoning cock toward my lips, and I opened my mouth as wide as I could, as fucking willing as I was to take him in. He held his rod still while I grabbed his ass cheeks and closed my lips around the penis’s head, a goddamn mouthful in itself, and moved my wet mouth up and down the large tip. I then gripped his shaft with one hand and the other still on his ass as I licked the length of his fucking fantastic, erect bone slowly up and down and all around. I took hold of it with both hands—sliding his skin back and forth while I continued to work and suck on the head with my lips and tongue. He began to breathe harder and started moving his hips back and forth to fuck my face. I made sure I made a sucking pop every time he pulled out of my mouth. I was so fucking wet as I continued to pump his shaft with my hands, and my lips and tongue worked the soft, sensitive head of his he-man rod.
At first, he would push his cock while it was inside my mouth, and I would scoot back in the seat a little because it was hitting the back of my throat and making it difficult to breathe. As he did that, he would move in to make up for the space I made. I didn’t realize what he was doing until I had repositioned myself all the way back from the edge of the seat and got fucking pinned against the back cushion. And then he took a fucking step onto the sofa! Jaymes was now standing on the seat cushions, knees bent and aiming his mighty pecker of wood at my open mouth. It was goddamn apparent that he wanted me sucking on his motherfucking cock in a fucking really big way, and I couldn’t get the hell away if I wanted to. I mean, maybe if was able to signal to him to stop; he probably would have, but I’m not sure. His reluctance to stop might have just turned into a part of the game. But in fucking slutmode, while I was feeling that holy fucking desire to please by that driving force inside of me—fucking pushing me—the goddamn option to stop never even entered my mind. I promise, at the time I would have sworn by any fucking god that what I was now doing with Jaymes’s monster goddamn cock in my mouth was all I ever fucking wanted to do. We both knew I was all in, and to hell with whatever might happen to freak me out. Of course, I’m going to freak out; how could I not? I’ll get over it. I didn’t think he wanted to hurt or goddamn kill me, so onward with our mission. This is the only way it was going to happen.
I kept my whore mouth open and willing as he began to thrust harder and harder. I did my best to hold my goddamn gag reflex, which I had gotten pretty good at with experience. But his grand dong was making me look like a shitty beginner. His luscious organ was so fucking large and such an intrusion against my throat that I knew no matter how fucking hard I tried to concentrate on relaxing to swallow him, I was going to goddamn lose the goddamn fight. It was going to be god-awful messy and was no fucking job for a lady. But I was the goddamn fucking filthy slut tramp whore for the job, and I was fucking going to show him I would do anything to please him; the motherfucking messier, the better! Bring it on!
He started pushing even harder, and my instinct was to move my head further from him as he thrust, and he fucking reacted by forcing my head toward him using a shit fistful of my hair again. I felt fucking helpless as he pushed his prevailing dick against my throat further, and I was fucking feeling it and goddamn gagging ferociously. Then he would pull out for a second or two, and I could take a breath. Then it went fucking right back in, pushing against my open throat, working to have me fucking swallow it goddamn choking or not. Sometimes he would pull it out long enough for me to collect my sorry, shitty self. My face would be covered with my spit and fucking who knows what else, and tears would be fucking streaming down my sweaty, flushed cheeks. And when I fucking tried to wipe the thick drool shit from my chin with the back of my hand, he pushed my hand the fuck away with his and would spread the friggin’ slobbery shit all over my filthy fuck face himself. Then he stuck his motherfucking serpent back into my mouth and fucking pushed it fucking deeper and harder against my throat. I fucking didn’t resist as he grabbed my hair and pushed my head back hard until it was goddamn pressed against the back of the sofa as far as I could fucking go. Then, he advanced his body forward, and his goddamn cock and balls were above my face, and he fucking started pushing down on his long, wood-hard rod—down my fucking throat among my heaving and coughing and shit. He was goddamn determined to make me fucking swallow it, but, again, I was starting to doubt that it was physically the hell possible! I wondered what might break—what if my fucking vocal chords are damaged, and I lose my fucking voice? Fuck! But I still couldn’t fucking move. But I wasn’t going to quit, goddammit! I would be fucking nothing if I didn’t do this!
“C’mon, down the gutter, bitch,” he commanded. I was fucking holding onto his thighs tightly, crazy as hell by fucking allowing him to use my motherfucking head and mouth as he fucking wanted and shit, just to fucking let him see his big goddamn cock get goddamn swallowed. I was drooling and hacking to death the whole motherfucking time when fucking suddenly, I fucking felt the snaking monster jump the fuck past the top of my throat, and fucking slide way, way downward giving me a fucking long goddamn urge to swallow! My fucking body heaved and tensed up like fucking shit at first from the sensation, and then I realized that I had actually goddamn swallowed it—all fucking whole! Holy shit! I was fucking stunned and hysterical at the same time—not knowing how to resist or adjust or even goddamn breathe! I opened my eyes, and I could barely see through my tears, and my goddamn nose was up to his fucking pubic hairs while he continued to push on his hot meat, and I fucking felt it all the way down my throat. I’m fucking amazed that I didn’t go ape-shit, but I was excited—I did it! And my body seemed to relax in fucking relief that the hard part was over.
Yet, there I was with a fucking humongous dong deep down my goddamn throat so I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, and my freakin’ body was trying to figure out what the shit was going on. But I fucking froze. I didn’t move an inch and kept my nose against his goddamn black, curly pube hair. Shit, I fucking didn't fight or panic. I found myself, instead, relaxing and surrendering—totally giving up. I fucking let him control all the action—mainly, how long he was going to fucking keep it deeper than hell down my throat; how fucking long he was going to goddamn keep me from breathing! Fuck, I couldn't even moan if I tried! My goddamn air passage was totally blocked by his monster snake. He started friggin’
jerking his hips and goddamn pushing his shaft against the back of my fucking over-filled throat to tease my reflexes and making damn sure I fucking knew that his kingly fucking piece was engulfed and nestled way goddamn deep in my mouth and throat, and there wasn’t anything I could fucking do about it! I was at his motherfucking mercy. He fucking pulled my head back while his dick was still fucking buried inside my mouth so we could fucking see each other eye-to-eye. He looked down at me half-smiling, half-snarling, and tauntingly asked, “Like that, whore?” I nodded yes the best I could and fucking kept my eyes focused on him. Had I been able to vocalize my answer, it would have been, FUCK, HELL YEAH!
It would only take about fifteen or twenty seconds before I would start feeling the need for oxygen, and after thirty my face began to swell and get hot. Then, usually, he would fucking finally pull out, keeping my head up by holding me up by my throat just under my chin. He let me take in a breath or two, then fucking guided his warm, wide goddamn hose back to my gaping mouth. Each time, whether it was from obedience or willingness, I opened wide, and he fucking filled me again with his gorging cock.
This cycle continued many times as if to teach my body, mind, reflexes and fucking everything else to accept and respect his dominant member with no resistance. Eventually, he started fucking around with me to control my attention. Sometimes he kept me from breathing for an extended time, and my survival instincts would fucking kick into gear, and I would tremble trying to inhale as my eyes started bulging like some fucking oogly fish. He pulled out again, far enough to clear my windpipe for a quick second so I could take a short breath. Then he would fucking pull on my hair to adjust my face—enlarged cock still in mouth—my fucking eyes directed toward his, and fucking push himself down again for me to swallow him fucking slowly. He was obviously enjoying this—watching me try to gulp down and show appreciation with my eyes, if not worship, his holy fucking, magnificently endowed johnson sausage in its goddamn entirety, then watching me struggle, making me gag, and see me fucking trying to gasp for air until goddamn mercy was granted. He was playing with me like a cat torments a fucking mouse before the final act. He worked on me for what seemed like over a goddamn hour in fuck-time, until I was absolutely fucking defenseless and exhausted, but now a completely tamed and trained fucking submissive servant tool of the king. All I was fucking feeling was a mix of intense horniness and a consuming will to serve and be used for fuck pleasure. I didn’t know where this feeling was coming from, but it became my will to surrender to it.
Mindy Poppago: Blue: Part 2: Requests, Commands, and Full-Bodied Demands Page 6