“I don’t know,” she said with a light laugh. “I’ve never had an arm-sized dick in it. There’s nothing wrong with it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I alternated glances between her pussy and my cock. It seemed like a simple solution. Despite our eagerness to continue, shoving my dick into the mouth of a beer bottle would be easier than trying to penetrate her.
My experience with pussies was limited to fucking them. I wasn’t versed in the mechanics of how they worked, and quickly came to regret it.
Confused, I mentally scratched my head. “There’s no reason it’d tighten up or anything, is there?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d say this is pretty normal, considering your size. You can make it work, can’t you?”
Getting my dick inside of her was going to require hard work and some sexual ingenuity.
“How’s your threshold for pain?” I asked.
“I like this kind of pain.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m dying here,” she complained. “Just fuck me, already.”
I had no intention of making her beg me for sex. One way or another, I was going to shove two pounds of dick into her tight passageway.
I drew a long breath. “Ready?”
She gripped the couch cushions firmly. “I’ve been ready.”
I forced the tip into her tightness and closed my eyes. Multiple mini-thrusts followed, each of which allowed me a fraction of an inch of additional entry. The feeling of having even a portion of my dick inside something so tight was glorious.
A few enjoyable minutes later, I looked down. One-third of my length was inside her.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
The response burst from her lungs. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
She gulped a breath. “Uh huh.”
I forged on, repeating the same successful mini-thrusts, making minimal progress in the process. I wanted more. I needed to feel myself inside of her. Completely. I took one powerful frustration-fueled thrust.
“God,” she gasped. “You feel so good.”
“I. Like Your. Little. Pussy,” I replied, saying one word with each thrust of my hips.
Progress was slow, yet very satisfying. Then, without warning, she opened like a flower. An extremely small flower, but a flower nonetheless. I sank into her wet confines. Now balls-deep, I gazed blankly at what I’d accomplished.
“Don’t move, okay?” she asked in a soft voice.
I hadn’t planned on it. I was savoring her warmth. “Is everything okay?”
“It feels.” She giggled. “It feels amazing. Just give me a minute.”
“Okay.”
“Alright.” She exhaled a slow breath. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh huh.”
I was sure her pussy was equally amazing, but the bits and pieces of progress I’d made prevented me from knowing what it felt like to actually fuck her. My balls ached, and I yearned to feel my stiff cock take a complete stroke into her impossibly small vagina.
Reluctantly, I withdrew myself. As each inch of my throbbing shaft slid free, I stared in amazement. As the rim crowned, I paused.
I gripped her waist firmly, drew a breath, and said a quick prayer.
Cautiously, I pushed my hips forward. Inch by inch, my entire length disappeared into her wetness. The feeling was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. So much so that I questioned my height of pleasure.
I took another slow stroke, just for the sake of certainty.
Holymotherofallthingssacred.
The breath oozed from my lungs. My head spun. My heart faltered. I was in unfamiliar territory.
I’d been transported into pussy heaven.
Shawn had shared a few tawdry tales of women who possessed magical pussies. After nothing more than partial penetration, these powerful punanis were capable of catapulting a man to the pinnacle of climax. According to him, these temptresses with heavenly honey pots were rarer than hen’s teeth.
Privy to their possession of other than worldly vaginas, they traveled the earth tempting men with the lure of their tight twats, rarely allowing mere mortals entry into their legendary lady gardens. The select few who were granted sexual access were treated to a once-in-a-lifetime sixty-second pass into what could only be described as pussy paradise.
I’d always dismissed the steamy stories as being nothing more than fables. Yet. I’d somehow stumbled upon one of the world’s secret snatches.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
The answer was no. The sheer satisfaction of experiencing her sexual offerings made me an emotional wreck. When the time came, quitting her was going to be difficult.
Impossible. It was going to be impossible.
I looked her over, hoping to find fault. At the beginning of the the evening, her hair was in a bun. Our make out session on the porch caused it to become unkempt, and it now cascaded over her shoulders and onto her back. A back that tapered to a narrow waist and then blossomed into wide hips.
Her ass was a work of art. Athletic legs connected her mouth-watering butt to the cutest feet I’d ever seen. Even her toes defined perfection, each of which had a carefully painted ruby red toenail.
“I think we’re good, now,” she said, reminding me one more time that she was ready to continue.
I wiped the remnants of a tear from the corner of my eye.
“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked.
“Not at all,” she responded. “You?”
“It feels good. Great, really.”
“It feels perfect,” she cooed.
I couldn’t agree with her more. I took one last look at my accomplishment and grinned at the thought of continuing.
“Here we go,” I said.
I began to row my hips fore and aft rhythmically. Her inner walls gripped my swollen shaft like a vise. Each stroke was a reminder that I’d found something special.
Something more than memorable.
Sixty seconds into what I hoped would be an all-night affair, my scrotum tightened. My legs began to shake. The end was near, and the only way to prevent it was to stop fucking her.
But, I couldn’t.
I took another stroke. Then, another.
My cock swelled, warning me that I was on the cusp of reaching climax.
Embarrassment encompassed me. Without a doubt, one more stroke would end our night’s sexual journey. Disappointed at my performance but incapable of taking pause, I took one last powerful thrust.
When my balls came in contact with her clit, I erupted. In response, she let out a moan of pleasure that echoed off the living room walls. To make sure she realized how much I appreciated her prized possession, I took two powerful full-length thrusts while in mid-climax.
Those two strokes cast me into another universe altogether. When I returned to earth, I collapsed over the arm of the couch at her side.
“Holy. Shit.” I drew a choppy breath. “That was amazing.”
Her mouth formed a slight smile. Then, her face blushed.
I was embarrassed by my performance and couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly satisfied. “What about you? Did you like it?”
She exhaled. “It felt really good.”
“Normally, I last longer than that,” I admitted. “It’s just…your pussy is…it’s fucking amazing. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured. “If we practice at it, maybe we’ll get better.”
I was all for practicing, as long as she didn’t become emotionally attached. I placed the palm of my hand against the curvature of her ass. “They say practice makes perfect.”
She raised a shaking hand. “I’ll volunteer to find out.”
11
Jo
The unmistakable sound of a clenched fist being thrust against the door three times in rapid succession startled me so much I almost peed. It was type of knock my father always referred to as a “cop knock.”
; At seven am on a Sunday, my list of potential visitors was short. After regaining my composure, I pressed the heel of my palm against my chest and stood from my seat at the kitchen table.
With hesitation in my steps, I walked toward the door.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Certain that a SWAT team was clearing the neighborhood so they could conduct an early morning drug raid on my Corvette-driving neighbor, I reached for the door handle.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
With my heart thrashing against my ribs, I opened the door just enough to peer onto the porch.
Still wearing the previous night’s attire, Jenny stood before me. She looked like warmed over death wearing a smile.
I removed the safety chain from the door and greeted her with a grin. “You look like you had fun last night.”
She nudged her way past me and meandered toward the kitchen. Instead of her normal lively gait, she walked as if she’d spent the entire weekend riding an oversized horse.
I locked the door and turned around. “What happened?”
After getting a cup from the cupboard, she removed a pod from the display and dropped it into the Verismo. “I need coffee.”
I giggled. “You’re walking funny.”
“You’d be walking funny, too.” She chuckled. “You remember BB Easton’s description of Knight’s cock, right?”
“I uhhm.” I shrugged. “Maybe not.”
“BB said. ‘All I could see was cock. It looked like there was a log of cookie dough under Knight’s clothes.’ I felt like I was in a reenactment of that scene.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.”
She let out a sigh and reached for her coffee cup. “Shawn and Knight could have a swordfight with their cocks.”
“You guys had sex already?” I acted surprised, even though I wasn’t. “You just met him last night.”
She sat at the kitchen table. “There’s only one reason to be in a guy’s presence. One good reason, anyway. To get that dick.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re one to talk. FedEx dude finger-banged you last night while a restaurant full of people watched.”
I sat down across from her. “He didn’t finger-bang me.”
“He did something.”
“He was rubbing my clit,” I whispered.
She unraveled her bun and tossed her hair. “Shawn stuck his tongue in my ass.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Shoved it right up there.” She took a sip of coffee. “It was awesome.”
My brows raised in wonder. “He stuck his tongue in your butt?”
“My mouth, my pussy, and my butt.” She raised her cup as if toasting the declaration. “In that order.”
“So, what did you think?”
“About him? I like him. At least he had the guts to be honest with me before we started. I admired that.”
“No. About having him, you know, tongue your butt.”
“It was freaking awesome. He’s got a talented tongue. It was a great way to end the night.”
“What about him ‘being honest’?
“Huh?”
“You said he had the guts to be honest before you started.”
“Oh Yeah. He said, ‘This is going to be sex. That’s all.’ I respected that. Most guys would lead you on, making you think it was going to be more than that. When a guy says nothing, women believe less is more. Me included.”
I wondered where Tyson and I stood. I assumed he liked me, but now wondered if I’d fallen trap to the less is more trick.
I shrugged. “At least he’s honest.”
She closed her eyes and forced a dramatic sigh before meeting my gaze. “He’s honest and his dick is perfect.”
Honesty was a must-have quality for any man that was going to be a permanent fixture in my life. I laughed out loud about the dick comment, though. “A perfect dick? You’re walking like you went horseback riding for a week.”
“I feel like someone shoved a telephone pole up my ass.”
“You didn’t let him—”
“I did.”
“In the butt?”
She raised her cup. “Oh, yeah.”
There was no way his dick was as big as Tyson’s. The thought of getting butt-fucked scared me to death. “Compare it to something.”
“I told you. Having a telephone pole shoved up my ass.”
“No.” I chuckled. “His dick. Compare it to something.”
She shrugged. “An arm.”
“Arms come in all sizes. What kind of an arm?”
She gazed into her cup of coffee for a moment, and then looked up. “You know those steak and cheese things that sit under the heat lamp at Circle-K, beside the hot dogs?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s thicker than that, but not as thick as a zucchini squash. It’s so long that when he was on top of me, it felt like the tip of it was bumping against the bottom of my heart.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow is right.”
I sipped my coffee, and then gave her a confused look. “If he’s hung like that, how’d that work out? The anal sex?”
“It took a lot of time and a tube of lube. Why do you think I look like haggard shit? I haven’t slept yet. We just stopped a few minutes ago.”
“When did you start?”
“We dipped out right after you left. I gave him a handy in the car, just to let him know I meant business. We started boning the minute we got to his house.”
“At seven o’clock?” I gasped.
“Yeah.”
I looked at my watch. It was just past seven. “You guys went at it for twelve hours?”
“We stopped twice,” she replied. “Once to eat, and once to mop up the blood.”
Blood during sex is never good. My eyes shot wide. “Blood?”
“Yeah. I accidentally punched him in the nose while we were going at it reverse cowgirl style.”
It seemed like an impossibility. “How in the heck did that happen?”
She let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes. “You’ve heard the phrase ‘had your brains fucked out’, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, if the guy’s hung, reverse cowgirl will turn whatever brain you have to nothing but mush. It’s the best sex ever, but it’ll make you stupid, that’s for sure.”
“That’s good to know,” I said. “But even with cooked squash for brains, you were smart enough to face his feet, right?”
“I was, but it felt like I was being impaled by a freaking lamppost. My arms were flying around like a rodeo cowboy in the PRCA finals. One of my errant fists hit him in the schnoz. We ended the night with cotton balls in his nose and bacon on our breath.”
“You stopped to make bacon?”
“Bacon’s awesome.”
“It’s not as good as sex.”
“No, but it’s a close second.” She swirled her coffee and then stood. “We were both starving. He’d already fucked me twice by that time. Bacon sounded good. It was all he had. Bacon, Gatorade, and eggs. After that talk we had the other day, eggs kind of creep me out.”
I wasn’t a jealous person, but I grew angry that she got an all-night romp with Shawn while I settled for a three-minute stint on the couch with Tyson.
“What?” she asked.
I must have been wearing my disappointment like a crown.
“He poked his dick down your throat again and called it good, didn’t he?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No. We had sex.”
The words rolled off my tongue dripping with disappointment. I was completely satisfied with what happened until I learned of Jenny getting her anus tongued. I wanted wild, uninhibited, bacon-fueled tongue-in-the-butt reverse cowgirl sex.
Jenny knew I wasn’t a promiscuous woman, but she had no idea my dry spell had spanned for nearly a decade. I decided to proceed cautiously.
“We had a few issues with pene
tration,” I admitted. “I guess he’s either way too big or I’m way too tight.”
“I can shove my fist in my twat,” she said with a laugh. “Our biggest problem was trying to get that blood cleaned up.”
“Wait? What?” I choked on my coffee. “Your fist?”
“I do it all the time.” She giggled. “It feels awesome.”
Comparing sex stories with Jenny was going to be amusing, that much was clear. My night with Tyson, regardless of how much I embellished, would pale in comparison to her night with Shawn.
She made another cup of coffee and returned to her seat. “So, you had some entry issues?”
“Yeah. It took a while to get started.”
“Once you got going, it all worked out, though. Right?”
“Kind of.”
She held my gaze and leaned onto the edge of the table. “What happened?”
I sighed. “He lasted about three minutes.”
“Three?”
“He said it felt ‘too good’.”
“Oh wow,” she exclaimed. “That’s hot as fuck.”
I wallowed in a pool of sorrow. “I didn’t even have an orgasm.”
“Who cares!” she exclaimed. “You made the sexy as hell Fed Ex dude come in three minutes. How many girls do you think can make that claim? That’s sexy as hell.”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so. When a dude is so excited that he can’t help but blow his load, that’s sexy as fuck. When a guy fucks me and it lasts forever, I wonder if it even feels good to him. I’ve got some self-esteem issues when it comes to my twat, though.” Her gaze fell to her lap. “You could drive a truck in this thing without scraping the mirrors.”
I laughed until my ribs hurt. “What?”
“Seriously.” She looked up. “It’s as big as a barn. If a guy busts a nut a couple minutes after we start going at it, that’s hot as fuck. It lets you know he likes fucking you.”
I shrugged mentally. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“It’s the only way to look at it.”
I gazed blankly at my empty coffee cup. “That makes me feel better.”
“You should feel like you’ve got the gold, girl.”
I looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Did he say it felt good?’
The Fed Sex Man: Hot Contemporary Romance Page 9