This one is based on the stories a lady friend told me. Most of the details I had to fill in, but the basic premise is all hers. This one is for you A.
I have had sex with thirty-two men. Maybe that sounds like a lot, maybe it doesn’t. I suppose it depends on the individual. Should my daughter ever ask me that question I’m sure it will fee like an awful lot. I expect that number to stay put now that I am married to my wonderful husband, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have some very nice memories from my wild and carefree youth. There are a couple of hot stories in there, I think, like when I fucked both Jake Hulce and his brother Jeremy in the same evening, or when Austin Mayweather talked me into having sex in the bushes of a public park. I’ve got others, but a girl has to have some secrets.
Of course men come in all shapes and sizes. Some bigger, some smaller, you know how it goes. In general bigger is better but there are plenty of exceptions. I’ve met a few men with a big dick and not a clue how to use it and a few with very ho-hum equipment who were wizards in the sack. I didn’t keep track of every last detail of every last penis I’ve had, but I remember the top three fairly well.
Number Three was probably the best lover I ever had. I met him in college, and oddly enough we never hooked up there. We graduated at the same time and both moved back to the same home town and it just made sense to split the cost of a rental house. There was no plan to date or anything, we were just good friends. Well, one night after a few drinks…I don’t think I need to explain how that all got started. But what a pleasant surprise I found in his boxers! His cock was long and full, gently curved upward and it just fit me perfectly. Once we got started we were hard to separate and I don’t think three days passed in the following six months where we didn’t have sex at least once. He was amazing!
But we weren’t a great match otherwise. Talking to him for more than five minutes became painful. He wasn’t stupid or even an asshole, just wildly opinionated about the wrong things. OK, so I guess that does make him an asshole. Whatever. We drifted apart socially, even when we were still fucking like mad every evening.
Number Two – oh God, number two! He was a bus driver while I was at college. I lived far off campus so I needed to take the bus to class all the time, and he was my regular ride. He always wanted me to hang from the overhead bar while he fucked me, but how was I going to work my clit like that? And I was sure I’d come down in a heap when I came. I get a little…excitable when I come. Anyway, number two is worth his own story.
Number One was a horrible human being. He was arrogant, stupid, rude, pushy, noisy, selfish, childish…I could keep going. I’m not kidding, he was a bad person. I hope he rots in Hell. But Oh My God that cock! He must have been…no, wait. I am getting ahead of myself. I should start from the beginning.
I met Number One at my first job. He was the skirt chaser at the office and I was the new skirt so he was hot on my high heels. I wanted to brush him off because he was such a jerk, but he was persistent and he wasn’t shy. After a while I think I got he same idea about him that he had about me – lets have some fun and I won’t cry a tear when you are gone.
He was tall and wickedly handsome, with sandy brown hair and a smile that left no question as to his intent. His blue eyes were halfway between happy and hungry and he seemed to be able to morph between ‘just horsing around’ to ‘God damn I want to fuck you’ at light speed. He had the kind of good looks that you can’t trust. I think of David Beckham and Josh Halloway when I think back on him. He was stunning. He could get it anywhere and you just knew he would. I pity any woman who actually falls in love with that bastard – he will tear her heart out.
I saw him for what he was and it didn’t take long before I decided I wanted to play with that fire. I let him take me to dinner and I swear I’ve never had a meal that felt more like foreplay. His eyes spent more time on my cleavage than my face, and I think I preferred it that way. By the end of the appetizer I was ready to crawl under the table and suck his cock. His whole vibe was just sexy and nasty and bad. Oh hell yes, he was a bad boy.
I’m surprised we made it up one flight of stairs in his building. As soon as we hit the atrium we were on each other like cats in heat. His tongue was long and thick and he pushed it into my mouth like he wanted to fuck me with it. I gave as good as I got while he mauled by breasts and I pawed at his crotch. That was the first time I got a clue about what he was packing. I got a good grip on it and broke away from him for a moment.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked breathlessly. It felt like a cucumber or giant flashlight or an arm.
“No joke, baby.”
The steps were a chaotic mess with his hands on me, my hands on him, trying to keep our mouths together and get his keys out and our clothes off all at the same time. When we got to his door he broke away from me for a moment and I was angry! I wanted him so badly I was literally angry that he would break away from me, even to get in the door. As he flipped the deadbolt I pulled the top of my sexy black dress down and exposed myself to him, right there in the hall. His eyes were all hunger and he bent over to lick and suck my nipple, still fumbling with his keys to get into the apartment.
The door flew open and we flowed into his place in a whirlwind of pulling hands and flying clothes. I was so wet, so needy, so desperately horny for that enormous cock that I pushed him back against the door the moment it closed and dropped to my knees. It doesn’t take four hands to open a buckle and unzip a zipper but that’s what we used. I chipped two nails in that struggle and I didn’t give a damn.
And then it was out. Oh God, you just can’t imagine. Big. Long. Heavy. That was the king of all cocks, I swear. I wish I had actually measured him, but since I didn’t I just have to guess. He must have been thirteen inches long, and nearly as big around as a soda can. It had thick, bulging veins like cables holing up a cantilevered section of a suspension bridge. It bent down under its own weight even as it grew erect. It was like some grand prehistoric monster rising from the swamp.
I inhaled him. I tried to swallow him down. I opened wide and took his gorgeous cock into me and never wanted to let go. He tasted so good! His musk was an aphrodisiac, the memory of that smell still makes my clit shiver. I was desperate, almost in a panic to put every inch of him into my mouth. I needed it. I sucked hard and tried to pry my throat open on his mighty crowbar. I wanted to engulf and consume him, to conquer this mountain and make it mine.
Once he stiffened up I had no chance. I can deep throat an average cock but not a monster like that, though I gave it my best shot. I love the feeling of having a man standing over me, thrusting into my face and driving down my neck. I feel so full, so filthy, so sexy! God damn! I am going to save this document right now and see if my husband is still awake. And if he isn’t, I’ll wake him up.
Alright, it is…1:22 in the morning, about an hour after I left off. Oh, I needed that. Hubby was asleep but a few moments of my mouth on his pecker cured him of that problem. Christ, he’ll remember that one or a long, long time. OK, so where was I? Ah, right!
When I couldn’t get any more of him in my mouth I needed him in my pussy twice as bad. I got up off the floor and he just picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him and instantly felt his cock on my bottom, but I still had panties on and there was no way to get him inside me like that. He marched (as well as one can with is pants around his ankles) straight into the bedroom and dropped me on the mattress. He kicked off the slacks and shoes while I wriggled out of my panties. The dress had been twisted a little, and when I pulled down the top it had fouled the zipper so I couldn’t escape quickly, but all I really needed free was my wet, sopping pussy.
That thing flowed into me like an avalanche. It hurt, but…oh God! It felt good! I felt like I might burst, or split in two, but when he pushed all the way in and I shrieked like a banshee, I swear I’ve never felt so alive. He wasn’t intruding into me so much as I was wrapped around him. I didn’t want to let him out, but then he started thrusting. Neither of us had any desire or ability to hold back and he fucked me hard for what felt like an hour.
We didn’t even change positions. He plowed into me with my legs up in the air and I was in heaven. I wanted to watch it, too. It looked so sexy, so ridiculously long and pornographic plunging in and out of me. I can’t ell you how many times I came, but I know he came twice.
The first time he came in me and the feeling of his hot sperm splashing around inside me was incredible. I could feel it leaking out while he continued to hammer away at me and it was just one more glorious detail that I’ll never forget. I was amazed that he had the stamina to keep going but I certainly didn’t mind. I told him I wanted the next one on my face and he was happy to deliver.
When that moment came, he pulled out and crawled up on top of me, dangling his third leg into my face. He gripped it tight and squeezed out a thick stream of hot, wet, sticky-slick sperm all over me. I opened wide and let my tongue collect as much as I could, then I sucked him down into me and tasted our combined lust all over his beautiful organ.
I didn’t stay to sleep. I cleaned myself up and ran away to preserve my sanity, and my health. I ached from his enormous intrusion and I walked funny out to the street. I shudder to think what the cabbie thought of me, all doubled over and still shivering from the aftermath of the best sex of my life. I barely slept that night.
The next day was rough. I was in pain and could barely walk. The downside to sleeping with the office skirt-hound reared its ugly head and before lunch half the department knew that he had fucked me. I was furious, of course…but I can’t claim I didn’t tell one or two coworkers myself. He was a smug bastard about it and in an afternoon meeting he caught my eye and brushed a finger across his cheek, as if to say, ‘You’ve got a little something on your cheek.’ The look on his face made it terribly clear that he was referring to the face full of cum he had given me just hours before. What an asshole!
After that we were hot and heavy. I could not get enough of him. I was a complete addict to that cock and I would have done anything to get another dose. Fortunately, he wasn’t stingy. We must have fucked a dozen times in the next three weeks and every time it was amazing. We had a lot of fun, too. We went out to a very nice formal dinner and I sucked him off while he drove us there. That was a thrill – all dolled up with a mouth full of cock. He convinced me to have sex with him in a public park behind some bushes. That was scary as hell but an incredible thrill. I let him tie me up once and use me like a whore. That was intense. He was very…vigorous. There are so many adventures in the short time we were together, but there was one story in particular that really needs to be told.
I can’t really express how good that thing looked. It was beautiful and I wanted proof that I had experienced the King of Cock. I bought a cheap Polaroid camera (this was a few years ago when such things still existed and digital camera’s were brand new and cost $10,000 each) and made a reservation at a local ‘fantasy’ hotel. He thought it was a waste at first but he got into the spirit pretty quick.
The king size bed had enormous mirrors above it, on the headboard and on the wall next to it, perfect for the couple who wants to see themselves from every angle. I had him stand on the bed and I knelt in front of him, his glorious pecker dangling next to my smiling face. CLICK! In a couple of minutes I had my first pornographic picture. There I was, right next to his cock, naked and sexy and about to get my brains fucked out.
I sucked on him for a while, turning Bruce banner into the Incredible Hulk with my lips and tongue. CLICK! A view from his perspective, looking down at me with my face wrapped around him, was incredibly exciting. I had three fingers working my pussy while once again I did my best to deep throat him. I never could do it, I’m sad to say.
He pushed me down on the bed and straddled me, dropping his long shaft between my tits. I brought them up together and pressed them around him. CLICK! My tits aren’t big enough to engulf him but it still looked pretty damned hot in the little square picture.
He put his balls on my chin and let his cock stretch up my face and into my hair line, really showing just how enormous he was compared to me. CLICK! God, I looked like such a lustful slut in that one!
He got down and stuck his long tongue inside me and got a close shot of it. CLICK! Thank God he didn’t do that very long – he couldn’t lick pussy worth a damn. He got back up and prepared to enter me, and as he slowly split my pussy apart he recorded it for posterity. CLICK! His fat head rested between my lips like some obscene flower. CLICK! The head was in, and look how much there is to go. CLICK! Halfway there – come on, finish it! CLICK! All the way in. CLICK! He took a shot of my face. That’s one of my favorites.
Missionary, doggie style, me on top, sixty nine, on and on we went and the pictures covered the bed. I’m glad I bought so much film – I would not have wanted to run out. The mirrors allowed us to get a lot of full body shots, to preserve how sexy and raunchy we were back then. He was very proud of himself when he came on my face. The pictures had him really excited and I demanded so much variety which took some time, so when he was ready to drop his load he was more primed than usual.
I don’t think I mentioned this before, but his cum was just like the organ that delivered it; thick, heavy, enormous and delicious. I don’t usually like to take it on the face that way, but like I said, everything about that night was about the look of it. He must have taken a dozen pictures of the mess he made on me. He tried to get an action shot, thinking he could catch a flying surge of cum on film. That was one of the fuzzy ones we threw out because you couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be. But he had plenty of my beaming face, smiling under a thick coating of his spunk, my tongue slithering out to collect as much as I could, my fingers, then his, spearing it around…I wonder if my husband is still available tonight…no, I should let him rest. Chances are I’ll rape him in the morning.
After that we showered ad cuddled a bit. That was the worst part. I’ve told you before what a shitty human being this guy was, and having to talk to him like that really made me uncomfortable. I won’t go into details because I don’t want to spoil the mood, but it did give me the very clear signal that I needed to use this guy up, get my kicks and sate my lust, and then get the hell away from him. That little escapade with the mirrors was almost our last time.
After a little nap, more to keep him quiet than anything else, I woke him up with my mouth. I am good at that. A few more CLICKS of me nursing his horse dick and I was ready to climb my last mountain. I wanted him in my asshole. That sounds like suicide, and I was honestly very concerned about my ability, but I wanted – needed – to know that I had given that cock every last thing I had to give. I wanted to make sure there was never an ounce of regret in me about it.
I popped open the lubricant and slathered up his big dick. We hadn’t needed it before because he turned me on like a leaky faucet, but without some KY I don’t think I could have gone through with it. Then I bent over and handed him the camera. He rubbed his apple-sized head against my back door, spreading the slippery gel across my opening. CLICK! He pushed, but I was scared and clenched and he deflected away. He repositioned himself, and again pushed. Again, I panicked and he was denied. I heard the camera land on the bed, then felt a strong hand catch my hip. With the other he pressed his cock head against my asshole and pushed relentlessly forward.
I don’t have the words. I swear I will never be able to record that feeling in any way. I’m glad I wasn’t drunk or high because I want to remember it as clear as possible for the rest of my life. It wasn’t so much pain, though there was some of that, as it was a feeling of being pried open. He stopped with just the head in and I felt like his cock was keeping my insides from falling out. CLICK!
That wasn’t the first one in my back door but it made me feel like none before or since. He pushed deeper and my organs fled from the intrusion. CLICK! The fullness, the sense of being split like a rail was overwhelming and intense. I worked my clit hard as he pushed deeper and I moaned like a cheap whore. CLICK! Oh God! There’s more? CLICK! I could feel his balls hit my fingers and I knew he was all the way in. Lust raced with panic as he started to thrust into me. Could I stand it? Could I survive it? Christ, what a way to go, though!
I worked my clit like crazy, trying to get off as soon as possible. I wanted desperately to come on that fat cock and then get it out of me. But it was so sexy, so nasty, so foul and wrong and I was such a fucking addicted slut for that man’s member that the orgasm came damned fast. My asshole clenched, squeezing and grabbing at his dick as I came hard. I didn’t hold back and I let the world know about it. I cursed and yelled and moaned and screamed and encouraged him to plunder me like a drunken pirate. He didn’t disappoint. CLICK! He caught a picture of my face as I screamed out my passion. That’s another favorite.
He rammed my ass so hard I thought I’d die right there, and thank God he came a few seconds after I did. He dumped another spectacular load deep inside me and joined me in howling like a werewolf. Oh, God that was the best! To hear him roar like a beast while buried inside me like that…fuck what a rush.
I fell off him and he left such a void in me I felt like I was broken, like I had lost a limb or something. I collapsed and curled up and just let the moment sink in. I had done it. I took that monster all the way in and I had fucking won! I know it wasn’t a competition, but I felt like I deserved a trophy or something. CLICK!
I’ve still got all those pictures. I keep them in a box up in the attic, locked securely from prying eyes, but right now they are spread across the desk, reminding me of that night. I have shown a couple of girlfriends one or two of them, just to impress on them the true majesty of that man’s cock, but I keep most of them to myself. I think my husband is secure enough in both his size – he’d be top ten, easily – and our relationship that it wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d prefer to keep them private. That was my mountain to climb. I enjoy reliving that night every now and then by flipping through the memories, but this is the first time I have written it all down.
Oh there was a little more between me and Number One. We had sex a couple more times, but to be honest the fire had gone out. After the mirrored room and the pictures there just wasn’t anything else to prove or accomplish, and his personality flaws had become more of a burden than his glorious penis could counterbalance. I thought about it one night after wincing from every pothole and speed bump in the cab, and it occurred to me that I would never masturbate with a toy anywhere near as big as his cock, so what I was doing was more like a stunt or a dare and not something I really needed in my life. He was a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there. I’d like to say I kicked him to the curb but I think he had a new girl on his cock within 48 hours. He didn’t notice.