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Author's infos Gender: Male Age: 33 Location: N/A |
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| Introduction: The continuing adventures of Charlie, who is given the opportunity to relive his life, only this time, with a gigantic monster between his legs. | ||
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Thanks for the positive feedback. It really helps the ego of a writer who obviously has issues with confidence – I did select a subject of dealing with lifelong insecurity embodied by cock size. So yeah, this boner I have right now is all for you, Perverted XNXX Fringe of America and Borders Beyond! As of this writing, I will do my best to keep this up. But I do work a shit ton, and have a family to worry about (and of course I’m doing all this shit in secret). So timeliness will not be my strong suit. I’m glad you all like the format and I’ll keep it going from here. Thanks again and try to check back often for updates. If you have not yet read Part I, it’s pretty much required reading as I’m making zero effort to re-introduce characters, etc. Each installment will not live on its own, instead surviving more as chapters in a longer work. --- September 8, 1994 Dear Friend, Fuck High School. I should have expected that it wasn’t going to be all peaches and cream. I had designs to fuck Amanda Geary regularly. There was no greater thrill than to make her cum as often as possible and force her to beg for my cock. But I arrive at school, and what happens? Carlos, the prick from my graphic arts class, finds me before school and confronts me. “Are you the motherfucker that raped my girlfriend?” he said, bouncing around and his hands flailing animatedly. This guy was the epitome of a Mexican “gangsta”, even using the trend of the time of wearing a hair net and having miscellaneous tattoos of crosses all over his body. I even heard that on his back, he had the obligatory “In Memoriam of My Fallen Homie” tat, commemorating the dude that was killed in a drive-by in gang warfare. In short, fucking Amanda really knew how to pick them. And let’s back up. Rape!?! What the fuck? “Dude, hold up,” I began, trying to act like an adult and use real social skills to get out of this situation. “I didn’t rape your girlfriend.” Yes, I HAD to deny that part. Then there was the question as to whether I would deny being with Amanda. It was obvious he was talking about her. I wasn’t sure what to do. “Sure, like I’m going to believe some nerdy white piece of shit like you,” Carlos fired back. “Fucking white trash motherfucker. The only way a piece of shit like you could get laid is if you raped somebody you fucking nerd.” My whole life, I had a temper. A bad one. It all stemmed from being picked on as a kid, trying to hold my emotions back before I just fucking snapped. I never lost it in normal situations. Always for stupid shit. For example, a guy would fuck with me at school, then I’d get home and the ketchup didn’t come out of the bottle fast enough, so I’d throw the bottle against the wall and break it. That’s how I rolled. And somebody calling me a white trash nerd who needed rape to get laid? Yeah, that will do it. Without warning, I swung on Carlos. But then I forgot that I was 15. I was 5’9” and about 150 soaking wet. Not an ounce of muscle on me. And not a chance in hell of hurting anybody with a punch. Fuck, I hadn’t thrown a punch in 30 years. So it ended up being the usual story. Carlos laughed at me, kicked the shit out of me (not before invited two of his buddies to help out, since he obviously couldn’t take me all by himself), and before I knew it, I was in the Principal’s Office for “starting a fight” since I threw the first punch, and there was this whole pesky “rapist” thing. All I know is, thank goodness my Mom worked at the school. I know I forgot to mention that part to you, but she worked in the lunchroom (oddly enough, right alongside Amanda’s mom). So the two of them intervened, and once Amanda got involved in the Principal’s Office, the truth came out (luckily before the cops were called). Amanda acknowledged that we had sex, but confided in her mother that she could never be with me because I was such a nerd. And as teenage girls are want to do, they spin tales when they’re busted. When she didn’t fully clean all the cum from her face the day before and Carlos confronted her, she apparently forced a cry on cue, and said she was raped. She could have left it at that, but she caved and dropped my name. So our mothers intervened, knowing the truth, and kept me out of trouble. But I was still suspended for “starting a fight” and lo and behold, I am now stuck at home for 5 days. I really can’t fathom how much a bitch move it was and how her accusation could have literally ruined my life. But I forget she’s 15 and has no fucking concept of life-altering choices. Regardless, I will be at home for the next 5 school days, meaning I’ll have more than a week off of school. Hooray me! Fuck Amanda Right in the Ear, Charlie --- September 18, 1994 Dear Friend, Today was my first day back at school, and I have to say, it really is amazing what happens to the high school rumor mill and how much power the social haves and have-nots possess. Needless to say, Amanda stuck with her story in the social circles. I raped her. Everybody thought that shrimpy nerd kid was now a rapist. It all made sense I suppose. It’s the “quiet ones you have to watch”, right? So no matter what I tried, nobody would talk to me. Especially girls. Come on, nobody wants to talk to a fucking rapist. I really have no idea what to do. Seriously, I’m thinking of petitioning that my mom sends me to another school. How can a 15-year-old deal with having the label of being a “rapist.” She told me to tough it out, and I suppose I will. But I’m suddenly a 69-year-old man just overflowing with teen angst of After School Special proportions. I’m an enigma wrapped in a cautionary tale. And the worst part? I can’t even unwind by going home and looking at Internet porn! There’s no fucking Internet yet! I’m going to do my best to repair my image and focus on my studies. I’ll keep you updated as things change, but I don’t anticipate daily updates. Love Always, Charlie --- September 29, 1994 Dear Friend, Sorry for not writing for the past couple weeks, but things have been equal parts totally uneventful / same shit, different day combined with a staggering level of surprising events. I know that sounds weird, but bear with me. So every day has been the same. Nobody talks. People just look at me. I mean LOOK at me. And not the good kind of look. Maybe I’d feel better if people checked out my package, but Amanda apparently said nothing about that. Just the rape thing. You know. It did get bad enough that they moved me from the graphic arts class I shared with Amanda and Carlos. And that really sucked because it was in that class that I made friends with two guys I originally got close to my first time around in 10th grade, Zack and Gerald. I also met a different girl named Amanda, who ended up introducing me to my closest group of friends the latter part of my junior year. So much for all that. So I was just all business. I just went to class, did my best, completely lost myself in my studies, and was doing well. I really missed my wife. I really missed my kids. I feared I’d never see them again. And it was frustrating knowing that right across town, my wife was in 8th grade, not knowing I existed. And there was nothing I could do about it. I watched enough time travel movies through the years to know that you don’t interact with the younger versions of people close to you if you want things to turn out. And the more I thought about it, I wanted things to turn out. So I really focused, deciding that I wanted to do whatever I can to ensure that my life, career and family happened just the way it originally did. To meet my wife the same way again, I knew I had to wait. I didn’t originally meet her until I was about to graduate high school. And career wise, I fell ass backwards into a career in sports after college. So maybe, I thought to myself, I could at least more refine my preparation for my career. That’s when I decided to do something strange to distract myself – play baseball. I never played a sport when I was younger. I loved sports but was too scared to be rejected or suck or whatever. Trouble is, I knew I was good, at least at baseball. I couldn’t get through a single gym class softball game without slamming a homer. I was solid in the field, though I knew I needed work. It was about this time that my gym teacher, who was also the head baseball coach, asked me to try out for baseball. That really was a seminal point in my life, because that happened the first time around too. And I said no. I was too scared. Fed him some line that I didn’t have time. But now? Fuck it. Even if I wasn’t going to be good, I knew it would be good to be part of the team at least. Even if I was riding the bench, maybe I could be the stats guy. Hell, when I did get a job in sports, that ended up being my job, anyway. So regardless, it would be good training. I did the tryout, and apparently did well. Coach Luther liked my game and said I might be able to find a spot on the JV team. I was super excited. It would be the first time ever I was playing a sport and before I knew it, I was practicing three times per week to prepare for our season in the Spring. Despite this, gym class still sucked. Still got picked last even though I was on the fucking baseball team now. And Amanda was still there every day. And she still was looking at me all the time. It was more with sadness though and she could never bring herself to talk to me. I just said “fuck it” and kept doing my thing. Then there was today. I’m out at baseball practice and we’re in our practice uniform. I’m taking ground balls at third and look toward the bleachers and who do I see? Amanda. What the fuck is she doing here? Of course, the first thing that popped into my mind was “which guy on the ball team is she fucking?” I tried ignoring her and once practice ended and I was packing up my bag, she comes up to me. “What do you want?” I began coldly. “How are you?” she asked. “I said, what DO YOU WANT?!” She lowered her eyes to the ground and face got sullen. “I’m sorry,” she said lightly. “What?” I asked. I couldn’t hear her. She raised her head and tears were rolling down her face. “I said I’m fucking sorry, alright?” I kind of didn’t know how to respond. What she did was so cold and low down, I shouldn’t accept her apology. She doesn’t fucking deserve that. But it’s in my gut to be nice and forgive. Even if people don’t deserve it. It’s kind of my way. And I still look at her, into her shimmering, tear-filled eyes, and I can’t stay mad at her. I know I’m weak. So I fucking forgave her. I was a pussy, I caved, and I forgave her. She thanked me. “Can I walk you home?” she asked me. “But I thought you couldn’t be seen with a nerd like me,” I fired back, daggers in my eyes. “I don’t mind at all if I’m seen with you,” she smiled. “You are on the baseball team now,” she giggled. I didn’t giggle. This shit was still deadly serious to me and she knew I wasn’t budging. “I’m just joking Charlie. Please, let me walk you home.” “What about Carlos?” “I dumped him,” she responded matter-of-factly. “He fucking hit me after he found out I was with you, and no man hits me. So he’s gone. You won’t need to worry about him or his stupid fucking friends,” she said, raising her finger to rub the bruise still evident above my left eye from the fight. I still didn’t know how to respond, but coldly, I calculated that if I was going to get out of high school social hell, the only person that could save me was the person that put me there. Amanda. She needed to fix it. And this might be the only way to fix it. So we walked home and we talked the whole way. We obviously never really talked before. But it tended toward the sexually tense subjects. She asked me about my crush on her. I asked her, of course, what she thought about our encounter. “I have to tell you, Charlie,” she explained, “my legs are still shaking. Like a month later, I nearly cum just thinking about it.” I’m not ashamed to admit that I pretty much instantly got hard when she said that. And she noticed. Because she’s fucking blunt. “Mmmm, there it is,” she said flirtaceously, grabbing for my growing cock to squeeze my cock head as we walked. “I knew he still liked me.” “Amanda, just fucking quit it,” I said. “We’re not going down that road again.” “Okay, fine. I’m sorry.” So after about three minutes of awkward silence, I finally spoke. “Why did you come over that day to proposition my friend Matt?” I asked her, referring to the time back in middle school that she came over to offer my friend Matt a blow job when she was 13 and he was 12. “Wait, what?” “Back in middle school. I was at Matt Finley’s house playing and you and Phebe Larson came by and we were all by the front door when you asked him to come out. And you told him right there you wanted to blow him. I mean, what possessed you to do that?” She was quiet, recalling the time. “Well, I thought Matt was cute and…” she stopped. Then, reassessing her thoughts, she stopped walking and looked at me. “The real question is why did you still have a crush on me after seeing me do that?” I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Why did I? It was certainly a slutty move. Not endearing at all and I wasn’t turned on by that. “You know why, Amanda? You were the first girl to ever talk to me.” It was true. I was in an after school club for photographers and she came by to say hi to our club advisor, who was also her favorite teacher. But he had left the room for a moment, and she asked me where he was. I said I didn’t know, so she gave me a “titty twister” and tickled me, demanding to know where I was. It was the first time a girl flirted with me. It turned me on so much. She was such a cutie, even for a 7th grader. She was budding breasts at the time and they were full, even if they were small, and she was wearing a body suit, which was all the rage at the time. They were essentially onesies like toddlers wear, but instead teenage girls wore them. They were skin tight and showed off every curve. And I just drooled at the sight of one, especially Amanda. After physically abusing me, she hung out for a few minutes and she asked about our club and I told her about photography and the kinds of things we do. She even asked if I would take pictures of her, and of course, I said I would. It never happened, of course, but the future photo shoot was at the center of every masturbatory fantasy I would have about Amanda. After telling her the Reader’s Digest version of the story, I went back to the incident with Matt. “And the reason I never faulted you for Matt was because I think I was already in love with you. And love is blind.” She was silent for several seconds, and then she finally spoke. “You love me?” I paused, and then I had to make the situation bad. I just had to. “Loved. I loved you. Past tense. After what you did, I could never love, or trust you, again.” It was harsh, but it had to be said. She kind of stayed silent after that, only letting out an “oh” as we finished our journey and arrived to my house. We stood on my porch, and it was like the end to a first date. We kind of pirouetted with one another because the subject of a kiss seemed to be on the table for some reason. Not that the subject of conversation on our walk home was particularly positive, but it seemed like we had to kiss for some reason. Instead, she broke the tension by moving in – for a hug. And we held it for about a full minute. And she squeezed me TIGHT. And my 15-year-old cock didn’t even get hard. It just felt NICE. It felt nice to be touched. We finally backed away from one another and she looked at me, and again, it was like we were going to kiss. Somebody had to break the tension. “You want to come inside?” I blurted out. Almost excitedly, she agreed. As I walked in the door, who’s the first person I see? My mother. My mother who knew everything about what happened. Who certainly knew Amanda. The disapproval on her face was obvious. “Hey … mom.” She just stared. “Charlie? A word?” She lectured me about good choices versus bad choices, how Amanda was a bad girl and all that. So I told her what we talked about on the way home and how she apologized, and my theory that if I was going to have a normal time at school, she was my ticket to normalcy. She reluctantly agreed and let us both enter the house. “Just keep it in your fucking pants, will ya?” she told me. We were always sexually open in our house. I take Amanda in and we go to my room. As we walk in, I hear my mom yell “keep the door open!!” Amanda and I both look at each other and smile. We sat down on the bed next to each other and almost instinctively, she grabbed my hand. We looked at each other, and again, she said, “I’m sorry.” “I know, I know. I forgive you.” “I want to make it up to you,” she offered. Unsure of where she was going with this, I just waited for her. “I’d like to be your girlfriend. You know, if you’ll have me.” I was just floored. I couldn’t believe it. This girl, who just recently branded me a fucking rapist, was asking to be my girlfriend? And even more surprising was my knee jerk reaction that came out of my mouth. “Of course.” She smiled so wide and just planted a huge, wet kiss on me. Goddamn, she tasted just like strawberries. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that before. “So I’m your first girlfriend, huh?” she asked. “I guess that’s a lot of pressure, huh?” “You were my first fuck too. And you seemed to handle that just fine.” Then we both reflected on how she did handle it. She groveled like a cock hungry whore, came like 20 times and then, emotionally-riddled, accused me of rape to avoid a breakup with her then-boyfriend. “OK, maybe you didn’t handle it fine,” I laughed. “But you’ll handle it better from now on?” “Of course,” she said, moving in to kiss me. It was a long, passionate kiss, and it was enough to make my considerable cock snake right down my pant leg. She put her hand on my thigh and unwittingly put her hand right on it. “Damn your cock is impressive,” she said, that look of lust re-appearing in her eyes. “And it all belongs to me now, huh?’ “Mmm, yes, Amanda. It’s all yours.” She got so fucking turned on at that, she began tearing my clothes off immediately even though my bedroom door was wide open. I motioned for her to close the door and she lightly shut it, just didn’t let it snap shut. Then she returned to me, getting on her knees and unbuttoning my pants, digging my rock hard cock out. She held it up in front of her, just admiring it. I think drool was beginning to form on her lips. “Mmmm, I can’t believe you fit this monster inside of me.” “Babe, I didn’t. I still had four inches or so I couldn’t even fit in.” She got so turned on by that, she put both hands on my cock and began stroking vigorously. “Really? And you still reached the back of my pussy? Mmmmm, fuck.” She immediately lowered her mouth on my cock and began the blowjob of a lifetime. I didn’t get a chance to feel her full performance before, but she knew how to suck a cock. She tried so hard to get my cock to enter her throat, and after not making the final descent on our last meeting, she got my bulbous cock head to pop past the opening of her throat. Oh my god, I’d never gotten deep throated like that. My cock was never even big enough to deep throat. Now, Amanda was lapping on it as about 7 inches of my massive member had disappeared in her mouth. She throat-fucked me for two solid minutes before rising up and taking off her shirt. Last time I saw her, she was wearing a lame black sports bra. Today, it was a pretty Victoria’s Secret number that was silver with pink hearts, creating amazing cleavage. She reached back and unhooked her bra, letting those magnificent titties with those perfect nipples be freed. I lowered my head to suck on her tits, something I didn’t really do before, cognizant of the fact that if I made her really turned on, she’d moan uncontrollably and my Mom would bust us. So I just kind of went through the motions without giving her the full “experience.” Just let her do her thing to me. And do her thing she did. She picked my head up from her tits and grabbed my cock and raised it toward her entry. As she did, I felt a drop of her lubrication fall from her pussy and dribble across my balls. She was soaking. As she readied for penetration, my cock head was held high as she let her weight bring her down on my massive rod. After popping my cock head through her opening, she let out a moan. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking huge. And you’re all fucking mine!” She continued to lower herself and by the time I was about six inches in and no thrusts had even happened, she was cumming. I had to put my hand over her mouth to muffle her and put one finger up to my mouth to “shh” her. Man, I loved having a huge cock! I thrust up into her and buried my cock even deeper. She was beside herself in ecstasy. Such a turn on to turn her into mush! I took her close and kissed her deeply. “I love you Amanda,” I said. Even though I really didn’t love her, but I had that butterfly, newness feeling I remembered, and I suppose that counts. “And don’t feel pressure to say it back. Just know that I love you.” She whimpered and pushed into the kiss even harder. Then she picked up her thrusts into turbo mode, and was bouncing up and down my dick. It took all of 20 seconds for me get ready to cum. She was breathing heavily too. “I’m gonna cum, hun. Where do you want it?” She seemed confused by my question, so I took the initiative and pulled her off of me and forced her to her knees. I jacked my cock right at her face and began spraying everywhere. My amazing collection of cum shots was going to come in handy, as the first two hit her face, then I aimed at her tits and back at her face. After spurt #11, she inhaled my cock and licked it all up, letting the finale spray down her throat. “Oh my God, you really do cum forever, don’t you?” I just smiled. We soon returned to the more innocent world as my Mom took her home, and once at Amanda’s house, we all had a talk, including Amanda’s mom, to announce we were now a couple and to clear the air on the past. Everybody seemed pretty much OK with it, though our mother’s were reticent. Regardless, I know we’re a dynamite fucking couple and as long as this thing lasts, I know we will be having some epic fuck sessions. Love Always, Charlie |
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