Shortly after I graduated from high school, I moved to Salt Lake City to work as a temporary data entry specialist at a credit bureau. During the summer months before I embarked to college, I lived together with my brother, Bobby Boop, and his gruesome wife in their quaint, downtown apartment. Although I was only working my menial summer job in order to save money toward my postsecondary education expenses, my asshole brother still made me pay rent for a small room inside his apartment, along with a share of all utilities and food.
Mongobear, my brother’s beloved spouse, was a strange creature, resembling a pudgy, deformed child with Down syndrome. She had the voice tone of a retarded goat and the fashion sense of a toddler who snorted too many lines of crushed Smarties. Mongobear wore pastel-colored Mickey Mouse shirts that barely covered her gunt, with matching colored socks rolled over the bottoms of her stretched pant legs. Her hair was a conglomerated, omni-present braid in the back of her head with a White Rain-reinforced shield of bangs up front. In juxtaposition to Bobby Boop, who chronically wore Betty Boop t-shirts to the point of schediaphilia, the couple looked like something from a Special Education amusement park.
It was during the time that I lived with my brother and his putrid wife that I met Brandy, a freckle-faced Mormon girl with a very fair complexion and long, sandy-colored hair. She had a thin body, complete with perky breasts that could easily fit inside my mouth and a compact little ass that was genetically engineered for groping. Brandy was preparing to go on a mission for her church during the summer when we began dating. As a devote follower of the Mormon faith, she was also a prudish virgin. That is, until I deflowered her and turned her out into a three-holer tart.
After I gave Brandy a proper introduction to the realm of sexual relations outside the bonds of marriage, her testimony in the Mormon religion began to falter and she quickly gave up the idea of spending the next eighteen months of her life proselytizing. Instead, she wanted to get naked with me as much as possible and clung to the hull of my scrotum like a hungry barnacle. As soon as I slid my vein-laden meat stick inside her virginal twat, Brandy was hooked and became a fiend for my five dollar foot long literally overnight. From that point forward, after I released Brandy’s twenty years of pent up sexual frustration and angst, she ceased kneeling to pray to Joseph Smith and instead routinely got on her knees to service me with some skull.
While living with Bobby Boop, I began having sleepovers with Brandy on a regular basis. This arrangement eventually became hampered once my brother’s wife learned of the fornications that were taking place inside her home. Being a religious zealot herself, Mongobear prohibited Brandy from staying overnight inside my bedroom, as we were unmarried. To enforce this mandate, Mongobear charged me forty bucks each time that Brandy was found inside my bedroom past the midnight hour. Bobby Boop did nothing to stop Mongobear’s efforts to curtail Brandy’s nocturnal stays and actively encouraged the prohibition himself. Because I never succumbed to paying my brother or his wife one nickel toward the forty-dollar fines that they imposed upon me, they sought to interrupt my sexual exploits whenever they saw fit.
It seemed that every time one of my make out sessions with Brandy was progressing toward a genital fluid exchange, I would get interrupted by either Bobby Boop inspecting my room for female visitors or Mongobear intruding into my living quarters over some trivial nonsense. Brandy made some minor adjustments with her attire to help circumvent this incessant cock-blocking. She typically did not wear any panties beneath her sundresses and generally went without wearing a bra either. This scanty attire allowed my wandering hands easy access to her groceries but it didn’t change the fact that my massive manhood was still difficult to whip out and hide at a moment’s notice of intrusion. Thus, I was regularly distressed with painful experiences of blue balls when Brandy was pressured to leave the residence by my brother at any time she was found getting fresh with me.
During one particular evening, Brandy and I began watching a movie in the living room together while my brother and his hideous wife left the apartment for a few minutes to visit with friends. I was unsure how long Bobby Boop would be gone so I decided against take the risk of retreating to my bedroom with Brandy for a quickie. Reluctantly, I remained inside the open area of the apartment and attempted to watch a film with my sultry girlfriend. We got past the opening credits before Brandy pulled up the bottom of her sun dress, exposed her naked genitalia, and straddled me on the floor. I started caressing the soft curvature of her pale ass while Brandy began gyrating into my loins. My hands crept up her back and pleasingly confirmed the absence of a bra strap. I pulled Brandy’s body forward and met her warm mouth with my own. Our tongues intertwined as I pressed her hips into me. The moment of ecstasy was suddenly shattered with the sound of Bobby Boop and Mongobear opening the front door.
Brandy swiftly dismounted me and fell to my side. She pulled her dress down and attempted to fix her wayward strands of hair. It was too late. Mongobear quickly made her way around the end of the couch and caught site of what was taking place. She giggled and called my brother over to view the scene.
“What have you been doing in here?” Bobby Boop inquired with a cheesy grin.
“Nothing, dude, just watching TV,” I replied.
My brother offered me a mocking smile. “Uh-huh, so what’s wrong with your pants then?” he asked, pointing at my distended crotch.
I looked down and noticed a large snail trail covering my groin area. Brandy had left her mark. I was speechless.
Mongobear continued to giggle. “I think he’s got a boner,” she whispered into my brother’s ear.
The Mongoloid’s observations were correct. I most certainly did have an erection and, despite the fact that my meat was still contained inside my pants, the contours of my massive mushroom-shaped glans could clearly be seen pressing against the material of my slacks, struggling to escape the confines of my knickers like a caged beast.
I rolled to my side, trying to conceal my wood.
“I think it’s time for your girlfriend to leave,” Bobby Boop said.
“Alright, just give me a minute,” I replied, tucking my swollen shaft up into my waistband.
Moments after Bobby Boop exited the living room with his greasy spouse, I stood up from the floor and whisked Brandy to her feet. Determined to empty my load inside one of her orifices before the night was through, I left the apartment complex in Brandy’s car in search of a place where we could seclude ourselves to have sex. It was just after dark and although seedy motels were readily available, I was not about to spend any money on my girlfriend just to get her naked with me. My blue balls were bad but not that bad.
As I navigated my girlfriend’s car down the city streets, my right hand found its way to Brandy’s inner thighs. Brandy lifted the frills of her white dress and quietly moaned while I probed her purse with my digits. She spread her legs wider apart and propped her feet up on the dash while I continued to diddle her.
“Just pull over,” Brandy whimpered.
“I’m still looking for a good place,” I replied. “Hold on.”
Merging onto the highway, I continued to drive toward the outskirts of town as Brandy removed my musky fingers from her innards and leaned her torso over the gear shift. She rubbed her hands over the monstrous magic stick inside my pants, frantically searching for a means to unleash the dragon in the darkness of the vehicle’s interior. Frustrated, Brandy reached up and flipped on the overhead reading lamps, instantly illuminating the dashboard area. With the aid of the light, Brandy found the clasp to my pants and quickly released the tension from my belt. Moments later, my engorged schlong was making a spherical impression inside her cheek with rhythmic motion.
As I was steadily receiving boulevard brain from Brandy’s sexy blowjob lips, I began to accelerate the car and moved to pass a semi truck along the highway. Catching up to the cab of the diesel, I regulated speed and kept at an even pace with the driver. Noticing the movement that was taking place within the illuminated interior of Brandy’s car, the truck driver looked over from his cab and witnessed the Mormon girl’s head of hair bobbing up and down upon my fattened flesh. I stealthily hiked up Brandy’s dress and exposed her brown eye to the driver, who in response, gave his truck horn a couple of tugs, followed by a thumbs up gesture to me.
Brandy did not miss a bob from the loud honk of the truck horn. As I sped up to pass the semi truck, she just kept right on guzzling me and massaging my sack as she voraciously fed upon my ripe banana. A few minutes later I found the perfect location for public fucking: a secluded golf course. The grounds were largely open but there were plenty of darkened areas along the periphery of some of the putting greens that provided an excellent locale for some naturalist activities. After I parked Brandy’s Ford Escort into an adjacent lot, I pulled her head up from my lap and lead her outside. With an easy jump over the low-lying border fence and a quick walk to the 7-hole green, I laid Brandy out upon the lawn. The landscaping around the green was manicured such that the grassy slope was placed at an incline from the cart path up to the hole. This allowed for adequate coitus leverage.
With having experienced a prolonged period of sexual arousal at my brother’s apartment and during the drive over to the golf course, Brandy’s Bermuda triangle was quite moist and readied to receive me by the time that I had my pants down. Assuming an elevated missionary position, I sunk into her beaver with great ease. My purple-headed warrior was probing into Brandy’s guts nuts deep when I began feeling slight pricks upon my ass cheeks. The mosquitoes were out in full force at the golf course and they spared no time in swarming over my perfectly-shaped buttocks for a free meal. But I was determined to put the pearl inside Brandy’s oyster, mosquitoes bites or no. So as the blood was being sucked out of my ass by the hungry horde of mosquitoes, my remaining hemoglobin was working hard to keep my flesh pole firm, as to allow safe passage of my prostate product into Brandy’s cum depository.
With my chest tightening with heightened arousal and my man member swelling to full capacity, I felt a rush of fluids. The liquid was not warm, however. It was cold, very cold. And, much to my surprise, it was not bursting forth from my ridged rocket but rather from all around me, shooting out from the lawn sprinklers that surrounded my position on the lawn.
Startled, I pulled out of Brandy and stumbled to my feet. Trying to escape the sprinkler wrath, I reached for my pants as I tripped and fell into the soggy grass. Laughing, Brandy leaned upward and seemed excited to be wet all over her body for a change and not just around her dirty hole. The white frills of her sun dress became soaked and the cotton material clung to her flesh like laminating plastic. Brandy finally stood up amidst the sprinklers and slowly walked out from the 7-hole green and onto the nearby path. By the time that we both made it back to her car, Brandy’s brown triangle of pubes and her large, puffy nipples could clearly be viewed through her now transparent sun dress. Despite her sexy appearance, my wood was unresponsive to Brandy’s thin figure wrapped inside her soaked dress. Still, the pang in my nut sack persisted. My flagellated sperms must have clearly been confused, as this was now the second time that they were called back to their home testicles without being allowed out to play inside some warm tool shed.
“Well, ain’t this some shit?” I commented to my drenched girlfriend, who stood next to her car twisting out the excess water from her hair.
“It was definitely... fun!” Brandy giggled.
My laughter was curtailed once more by my throbbing balls. “Come on, let’s go,” I probed Brandy.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Not too far,” I responded with the intensity of fulfilling a quest.
I zipped Brandy’s car over to the University of Utah campus and quickly located a fairly abandoned parking lot near the library. After I slammed the vehicle into park, I swiftly yanked down my waterlogged pants, baring my throbbing wood. Paying no mind to the large flood lights that were spaced throughout the parking lot and with no concern for any students that may be privy to what was taking place inside the Escort, I slid the car seat back as far as it would extend and then maneuvered Brandy atop me. With my blue balls aching to be relieved of their contents, I pulled the sodden dress from off Brandy’s body and clutched onto her bare hips, positioning her orifice atop my meat soldier standing at a full salute.
“That feels so good,” Brandy cooed, as I pushed my majestic meat all the way inside her with one solid thrust.
“Then do it again,” I urged, lifting Brandy’s body from off my manhood.
She reached down between her legs and poised my copulation organ between her lips. Arcing her back, Brandy sat upon my stiff phallus once more, sinking my prodigious penis deep inside her humid crotch. She leaned back against the steering wheel of her car while I dropped the seat cushion back to give myself maximum mating room. As Brandy oscillated her pelvis, I thumbed her clitoris with winding strokes. Moments later, Brandy climaxed, tightly clenching my yogurt slinger into her vaginal folds. I was seconds away from spurting my load when I noticed a shadowy figure of a campus police officer in my periphery lingering near the side of the car. By the time the officer had shined his flashlight beam onto my face, the muscles at the base of my turbulent tool had already started to contract with a buildup of seminal fluid. Ejaculation was unstoppable.
The officer reached forward to knock on the car window, startling Brandy. She jolted her body sideways from off my lap, causing my erection to pop out of her tightened pussy just as a pressurized mass of jizz was forced out of my beef bazooka. My nut sauce shot out like a porn star, splattering the door glass with a splotch of glistening white dick phlegm.
As Brandy was hastily putting her dress back on, I rolled down the window to speak to the police officer, smearing the cum concoction against the glass in the process. Taken aback by the site of man seed splashed against the car window, the officer cursed up a storm of profanities and ordered me immediately off the university grounds. He made note of the license plate number of Brandy’s car and advised me that if he found the vehicle on the university property once more than it would be immediately towed. Following the officer’s orders, I pulled my soggy pants back up and quietly drove out of the library parking lot.
After I arrived back to my apartment, I helped Brandy clean up her car. The side window was quite the mess and the passenger seat where Brandy was sitting while I fingered here didn’t look much better. I was amazed by the volume of cum that came out of my tortured nads. Some guys need a Kleenex or two to mop up their spilled seed. Others who have testicles the size of grape fruit, like myself, need bath towels to soak up their spent sperm. But in this instance, my love juice had been trapped inside my blue balls for so long that to clean up the pressurized explosion from off the window glass required nothing less than ShamWow.