Gender: Male Age: 33 Location: USA
|Introduction: Charlie is faced with a huge question after an eventful week|
February 18, 1995
For the first time since this little adventure of mine has begun, I am truly confused. I am at a standstill, at a fork in the road, and I have no clue which road to pick.
Let me explain – it all began Wednesday, the day after Valentine’s. Basically, in our minds, Liz and I became somewhat of an item. But there was no smooching. Not even hand holding. All we did that was publicly visible was sit together during lunch.
But all week long, while sitting at lunch, we’ve snuck little games of footsie under the table, and once, during Thursday’s lunch period, she ran her foot up my leg just for the expressed purpose of getting me hard. She laughed uncontrollably when we finished our lunch, and I didn’t get up. There was no way I was going anywhere with that ridiculous tent in my pants.
If was after school that we got our quality time in. I’d walk her home, making sure I never held her hand, though I desperately wanted to, and wishing her goodbye on her doorstep every day. Wednesday after school, I did finally meet her parents, and I’ve never been so nervous in my life. These were the most proper, Christ-loving people you’d ever meet. And I knew that I might lose my mind a bit since, mixed in among the pictures on the wall of family members, was a framed lithograph art piece of Ronald Reagan. It was the oddest fucking thing. When I found out her dad was a goddamned minister, I knew that I was in for a challenge here.
Lucky for me, I had unlocked the horny devil that lived inside of cute, little demure Liz Jackson.
Now I’m going to backtrack to the day after Valentine’s. As I left the lunch line, walking behind Liz, I was intercepted by Dominique. She asked if I wanted to hang out with her, JB and the guys outside. But I told her I had already promised Liz I’d hang out with her. I asked if it were maybe OK that Liz came along and I introduced her to everyone, but Dom just huffed off without a word.
By the time Friday’s lunch period came around, Dom had compartmentalized her anger enough to finally set a day for that rain check Valentine’s date. She suggested later that night. And she said she would be planning the night’s festivities, so I should just arrive and plan on “being along for the ride.”
So back to Liz. I’m walking home with Liz Friday after school, and about ¾ of the way there, she actually grabs my hand. I haven’t been excited by the simple act of my hand being held in what felt like hundreds of years (almost literally a hundred years!). I developed a smile that was huge and wide, and really uncontrollable.
Liz just grinned at me. “You are so cute, you know that?” I just blushed like an idiot.
As we continued walking, I had to bring it up.
“So are you sure we can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend?” I asked her. “Like, really, super sure?”
She smiled, and her smile went away slightly, descending into more of a flirtaceous, sexy smirk. “Maybe I’m sure?”
I squeezed her hand and continued walking, sensing that I shouldn’t push the issue.
A minute later we arrived at her house. Just as we were about to depart for the day, with her left hand on the door knob and her house key inserted in the door, she turned the knob and opened. Just as I began to turn my body away from her to head home, she grabbed my hand, looked both ways as if to check if the “coast is clear,” and pulled me inside abruptly.
Once inside, she quickly closed the door behind me, grabbed the back of my neck and planted a long, deep kiss on me. I was shocked, but I took the bait, kissing her back.
We moved around the living room blindly, ramming our tongues down each other’s throats until we knocked a plastic candy dish off of an end table, sending candy flying everywhere, and we stopped.
“What, what was that?” I asked breathing heavily.
“Oh, just candy,” she said quickly, grabbing me again to kiss me.
“No, I mean, all the kissing?”
“Well,” she began, kissing my lips softly. “My parents,” she continued, kissing me on the cheek, “aren’t going to be home,” then kissing the other cheek, “until 5:30 today.” She grabbed my head again and kissed me deep. “So I thought we could use some alone time,” she said in possibly the cutest, most innocent way possible, her voice heightening an octave.
It what seemed like in a second flat, I felt my cock inflate four inches. She didn’t have to tell me twice as I obnoxiously stuck my tongue in her mouth and resumed kissing her. Since she was so short and probably 110 pounds soaking wet, I thought I’d try something I never had the guts to do.
In my former life, I was always a weakling. In gym class growing up, I was grouped with the girls when he had weight training units. I’d lose arm wrestling contests with my wife. And sexually, I always wanted to do what I saw in the porn movies – pick a girl up and have her wrap her legs around my body while I fucked her. Two factors always hindered that. One, I was too weak to ever carry even a 100-pound person around like that, and two, every girl I ever dated was usually closer to 200 than 100 anyway, so the idea was absolutely out of the question.
Until now. Sure, I wasn’t going to have sex with her, but I had the muscle to at least lift her off the ground and kiss her. Right? I figured I’d try.
I put my hands on her ass, squeezing her perfect fucking butt tightly until it elicited a squeal. Then I leaned down slightly, placing my hands under her ass and without a warning, lifting her entire body up.
I was simply amazed at how easily I picked her up. Sure, I strained a little bit, but it felt about as heavy as picking up a bag of cement. I had muscles now and I could handle it.
Of course, the stunt set her off and she let off a squeak followed by a cascade of girlish giggles. I loved the fucking look in her eyes. She was so cute and innocent looking normally, but she had fucking bedroom eyes now, and it was the first time I’d ever seen her looking at me like that. Looking at me like a fucking piece of meat. This little 15-year-old preacher’s daughter looked like she was custom-built to fuck.
I continued kissing her, carrying her to a doorway as I leaned against it and kept up my assault. My hands massaged the globes of her ass and squeezed furiously. I then moved her to the couch in the living room and dropped her onto the cushions. She still had that bedroom look in her eyes, which immediately angled down to my stretched out jeans as she took in my entire length.
“Oh my gosh, Charlie. You’re so big.”
I’m still not sure how to respond to that comment. So I just answered with a casual “Thank you.”
As she lied on the couch, I got on top of her. The way my leg angled away from my torso pulled my cock backward a bit too much and I got a trapped, pinched feeling.
“Ow!” I snarled out.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?”
“Oh, just my, well, my dick,” I explained as I stood back up. “I kind of bent it weird. It’s just trapped in my pant leg.” As I rubbed out the pain, she just looked at it me hungrily.
“You know,” she said innocently. “You could always just take your pants off.”
The fucking minx.
I fought back a chuckle. “Some virgin you are.”
“Hey, as long as you don’t stick it in me, right?”
I smiled widely, and looked down at her. With a raised eyebrow, I said, “You know, I could probably use some help getting them off.”
She just grinned at me and literally bounced off the couch and onto the floor.
As a man, there is no anticipation greater than a hot, sexy girl kneeling in front of you, eyeballing your package. Add to it a look of fear mixed with excitement, unabashed horniness, and pure Lolita teenage wrongness, and that’s what it was like to have Liz in front of me.
She smiled up at me, angled those baby blue eyes at mine, and placed her fingers at the head of my cock that was tenting my jeans. She ran her fingers up its length, stopping halfway to tighten her grip around as much of the girth as she could hold. I loved it – her hands were so small, she could barely fit her hand around half of it.
She finally stopped at the top and began to unbutton. The smile on her face was permanent. Her eyes oozed sex. She lowered the zipper, revealing the front of my black boxer briefs. For some reason, I expected her to just take the pants off me, but she raised her fingers to dig them inside the elastic of my underwear and take both my jeans and underwear off, her eyes locked on my cock. She gripped at the sides, pulling my pants down until my pubic hair and the root of my nearly three-inch wide cock came into view. Her eyes darted back up at me in excitement as she made a “squee” noise before focusing back on the matter at hand.
She kept lowering my pants until it was almost to my knee, seeming as if my impossibly long cock was going to go on forever, until she reached the end, causing my cock to spring up violently and hit her square in her neck and chin before bouncing upward to its erect home at a 45 degree angle. She laughed uncontrollably.
“Oh my god, your, your thing flippin’ punched me!” It was so cute how she censored herself.
“Your … huge… you know…”
“You mean… My… Cock?”
She just blushed wildly, reaching her hand out to touch it before screaming and recoiling in apprehension and scooting back.
I was going to have fun with her. I got closer to her, and swiveled my hips so that my cock lightly slapped her on either side of her face. She was giggling and her eyes were closed.
“It’s okay. Understanding is only reached after confrontation.” And I smacked her again with it.
She squeed again. “But your thing, it’s, it’s, so big.”
“It’s not my ‘thing,’” I said. “C’mon, you can say it. Cock. Really work those hard k’s”
“K--- K--- Co---“
“Don’t be scared, sweetie,” I assured her. “You already have a naked penis in front of you. What’s wrong with saying… one … simple … word?”
“Cock,” she finally let out innocently.
“There, there you go!”
She closed her eyes slightly and turned on her bedroom eyes and looked straight into my soul.
“COCK,” she said, really doing a job to accentuate those hard K’s.
“Big, gigantic, huge COCK!” She continued, then grabbing it with both her hands. Holy fuck, she was so sexy.
Squeezing as hard as she could, she began to stroke me. She wasn’t really sure what she was doing but I appreciated her trying.
“Sweetie, don’t squeeze so hard,” I said. “Just grab it lightly. It’s very sensitive.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Trust me,” I said. “This is so the opposite of hurting of me.”
She continued stroking me, going slowly, and suddenly the feeling in my cock changed. Instead of focusing on the feeling of motion, the kind that produces my normal masturbatory orgasm, it instead was an all-encompassing sweet feeling. It felt like when I was fucking Amanda at the hotel pool. The slowness of her jerking movements turned on every nerve ending in all twelve of my inches.
The scene was too much to take and I felt the torrent of cum begin to make its journey up my cock. My dick flexed, and she noticed and giggled. My cock’s movements continued and instead of cumming on her face, I thought I’d put on a show.
I removed her hands and stood back. Standing about 5 feet in front of her, I flexed my cock more and more to coax the cum to the head of my cock. When I did, my cock moved violently as my muscles flexed it first perpendicular to the floor, then allowing it to return back to its natural 45 degree angle. Because of its size, it looked as if it truly was a third arm moving of its own accord.
I balled up my fists and lowered them to my side just for effect. Grunting as I got closer, I aim my cock directly at Liz, flexed a few more times, and let loose a series of hands free cumshots.
The motion of my cock moving like it did created quite the parabola as the first shot went high into the air like a fly ball, squirting behind Liz, clearing the couch and finally painting the upper portion of the wall behind her, where the family pictures stood. If there wasn’t a wall there to stop me, it probably would have travelled 25 feet.
The second, third and fourth squirts all followed suit, landing on the wall and painting the pictures, with two landing on the fucking Reagan picture.
Then the trajectory decreased as the next few simply cleared the couch, while those after that simply reached the cushions, and my groin muscles began to seize. By the time I applied my hand to coax out the last bit and I came to my 10th and 11th cum shots of this orgasm, I began to paint Liz, two shots hitting her clothes while another hit her square in the face. By the time I got to cumshots 15 and 16, I was merely dribbling on the floor in front of me.
Sixteen cum shots. A new record for me.
Needless to say, the next couple moments were a bit of awkwardness mixed with pure lust. She just stared at me dumbfounded.
“Wow,” she said. “I guess I just need to take a towel around with me at all times, huh?” Out of breath, I smiled and let out half a laugh as I collected myself.
After that, I found it odd, because her demeanor changed completely. She immediately quit making eye contact at me. You could feel awkwardness in the room. Her smiles and bedroom eyes were gone, and in its place were forced grins and a lot of staring at the floor.
My stupid morals had come into the equation now. I felt a little ill. Like I was taking advantage of her.
Still panting with my softening and dripping cock exposed, I said “Listen, that got out of hand, I didn’t mean…”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. “I liked it. It was exciting,” she said, like she was trying to convince herself.
In unison, we both looked down and around to the cavalcade of cum stains throughout the room. She paid special attention to the spurts on her face and her clothes.
“So do all guys squirt this much?” she asked. “Or are you…”
“Special?” I interrupted. “Yeah, that.”
She ran her fingers to wipe the cum off her face. I was sad to see me mark disappear off of Liz fucking Jackson’s face (I was still in disbelief that this was happening with HER), and I was also said to see that when she picked the cum off her face and looked at the white pearly goo on her fingers, she didn’t immediately taste it like she was a porn star. She just examined it then wiped it on her already cum-stained shirt.
“Well, I think we have some cleaning up to do,” she said matter-of-factly.
Over the next five minutes, we both grabbed a rag and wiped up whatever cum we could find. The couch cushions were more stained, so we had to scrub those out with carpet shampoo.
Then there was the smell of sex in the room, even though we didn’t officially have sex. Either way, she lit a candle and sprayed some air freshener.
We did all of this without sharing that many words.
It was pretty evident that after the cleaning was done (and it was scarily close to 5:30) I should probably go. Upon my departure, I took her in my arms to kiss her, and though she kissed me back, it was hardly lust-filled, or even loving. It was the kind of kiss you have with your spouse after a fight, when both of you feel like you HAVE to kiss.
As I left her house and began walking down the street, it occurred to me that my night wasn’t over. I was to be at my house and ready to go by 7 p.m. for my night out with Dominique.
As I got home, instead of reflecting on what happened with Liz, I forced myself to think about what I was going to wear. I settled on something stylish and kind of preppy – a plaid, button up shirt, rolled up at the arms to show off my forearms, covered by a blazer with tight jeans. I did my hair so it feathered out the way that girls love, of course, showered before all this to get any girl stink off of me.
Just I was ready, I heard the doorbell ring. My mom answered and welcomed Dominique in, who she hadn’t seen in a while. My mom said she always liked her, but said in so many words that she “didn’t want another Mexican daughter-in-law.” She was obviously getting way ahead of herself.
When Dom walked in, I felt my cock hop a few inches. She looked so fucking hot.
She was wearing a black Slayer band T-shirt, which was torn and shredded in all the right places. It had tears all up the side, exposing her ribs, all the way from her navel to the sides of her hot pink bra. On the top of the shirt, it was torn all the way down the top of make it an improvised V-neck, showing off the tops of her heavenly cleavage and of that pink bra. The bottom of her shirt was tied off in Dom’s trademark style, exposing that washboard stomach.
She also added a black faux leather skirt that barely reached mid-thigh. She topped off that number with a thick, black belt with large, metallic rings that sat crooked on her waist.
She tied it all together with a pair of knee-high stiletto “fuck me” boots.
She had on dark red, almost maroon lipstick, heavy black eyeliner, and a slight nose ring that is either new or I hadn’t noticed it before.
Either way, whichever of her parents let her out of the house looking like this? Well, maybe she didn’t even seek permission.
“Uhhhh…. hi,” I stammered out, struggling to take in this vision of awesome, mind-boggling hotness in front of me.
“Yeahhhhh,” she said, acknowledging my reaction while also eyeing me up and down. “Where we’re going, you better not be looking like that.”
I looked down and yeah, she had a point. I was dressed like I was going to a Valentine’s dinner. She, well, was not.
“Come here,” she said, taking me by my hand and leading me toward my room.
She pushed me in and closed the door behind us. Thoughts began to enter my mind.
She immediately looked through my closet, and found something that would work.
“OK, this Metallica shirt. These torn jeans. And this leather jacket. And put your sunglasses on your head.”
She tossed the clothes at me, which I of course dropped, and I picked them up and looked at her. I, of course, expected her to leave as I put them on. She didn’t budge.
“So? Go on then,” she said. “Put them on.”
I just looked at each other and we dared each other to leave with our eyes. Nobody did. So I guessed the writing was on the wall. And I began stripping.
Dom simply leaned back and surveyed every inch of my with her eyes as I undressed. As I removed my shirt, she let out a barely audible “nice.” When I dropped my pants and was wearing nothing but blue briefs, her eyes seared my crotch and she looked up at me with a wicked smirk.
“I nearly forgot. You should probably wear boxers.” She went over to my dresser and fished out a pair of novelty green “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” boxers. She threw them at my head, and as I caught them, I just looked at her. She just responded by raising her eyebrows, as if to say, “Let’s get on with it.”
I was getting turned on by this and my cock was plumping nicely. As I dropped my briefs, my growing cock, about eight inches long or so at this point, extended out somewhat in front of me, but still mostly hung toward my knee.
“You know,” she said as my cock was exposed. “Never got a real good chance to look at it before now. It’s impressive. I can see why it turns you into an asshole.”
I just glared at her. Her expression of sultry inquisition didn’t change.
I grabbed the boxers and slipped them on, the head of my cock protruding out the bottom of the leg. I looked back up at her, and I saw her licking her lips. I continued at the matter at hand, and put on my torn jeans, my Metallica shirt, and leather jacket, adding the sunglasses on my head for effect.
“Hmmm, OK I approve,” she said. “I suppose I’ll allow you to be seen in public with me.”
Just amazing. This night was beginning in the oddest of ways – and I liked it!
I got on the car she borrowed from her parents, and off we went. She was going to turn 16 in about three weeks and her parents said she would be able to take it over then. Which was cool, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to get a new car when I turned 16.
“So where we going?” I asked.
She smiled widely. “It’s a surprise.”
She drove to a weird part of town I had never been. It was tucked away in some back streets behind the industrial district. There behind a chemical plant was a little building – and there were teenagers everywhere.
It was really a feast for the eyes. Loads and loads of metal kids everywhere, and seemingly all the teenage girls looked like Dominique – all metaled out, like they walked straight out of a Hot Topic catalog, and all oozing sex.
But nobody oozed more sex than Dominique. I’ve never seen her look like this. I’ve never seen her dress this provocatively, even when she dressed in the tube top freshman year. But it was going to perfect because there was really loud music booming from inside, and I knew that the only way we’d really be communicating tonight is through our bodies and our eyes.
We walked inside, and she screamed into my ear at a barely audible level “Welcome to the Indy House! We’re going to see a band called Osmosis!”
“Osmosis!” She pointed to the stage, where we saw a band doing sound check with amps turned up to 11. The sound was deafening, and they weren’t even playing yet.
She grabbed my hand and we fought our way to the front of the crowd. Twice, guys tried to stop her to hit on her, and each time, she pushed them out of the way.
“I think I should warn you!” she screamed into my ear. “You might need to defend my honor a few times tonight!” Then she wrapped her fingers into mind, lifted my hand up to her mouth and kissed it, smiling at me.
We finally settled into a spot about 15 feet from the stage, up against some railing. Just as we did, the lights went out and the place went up in cheers. She turned around and looked toward the stage and just screamed her head off.
“Wooooooooo!” she howled along with everyone else, moving her body backward until her curved spooned mine. She moved my hand across her stomach, and I took the hint and moved my other hand down there too to hold her tight against me as the show began.
Osmosis was your typical garage metal band. A lot of growling and screaming, very inaudible guitars that were way too heavy in bass. But it wasn’t about that. It was about this beautiful, dead fucking sexy girl in front of me, grinding against me as her body gyrated to the music. Every so often, she would look back at me and just smile.
Dominique, too, was Hispanic, after all, and it was practically required that she have a nice, curvy ass. And she plowed that ass back into me repeatedly. Since she was so short, the key curves of her ass were about level with the lower end of my cock hanging halfway down my thigh. In other words, it was sitting perfectly to get rubbed repeatedly on her ass, and it made me think that her decision that I wear boxers so my cock could hang low was a calculated request.
About two songs in, the feeling of her body grinding back into mine was just too much to take. I began lengthening, snaking down my pant leg, periodically feeling a breeze hit my swelling cock as I grew past a hole in the jeans.
As I began to grow, she looked back and flashed me a huge smile now, squeezing my hands hard. I ran my fingers lightly on the skin of her exposed stomach, and I felt her body jerk slightly as I hit the triggers of her sensitive midsection.
I parted my fingers from hers and ran my hands up her sides, feeling the torn open sections of her shirt and reaching in, stroking my fingers in circles back and forth from her back to her front, lingering on the indentations of her ribs. She leaned back even harder and dug that ass into my cock with firmer, more deliberate strokes.
Before long, I was at my full length, tenting out to my knee but trapped behind her. I flexed my cock up against her, poking her in the leg. I took the cue to finally dip my head and kiss the back of her neck. As my tongue explored her neck and I felt the vibration of her moans, I moved my left hand back down to her exposed stomach and moved my right up to her breast, squeezing.
It kept up like this for two more songs until she finally turned around to kiss me. We kissed so amazingly passionately, exploring each other’s souls with our tongues. After learning earlier in the day that I could do so, I dug my hands into her ass to lift her up. Because of her short skirt, I encountered bare skin and discovered that there was a thong under there as I felt mostly bare ass --- the fucking minx --- so I lifted her up and turned her around, sitting her up on the railing behind us as we began making out.
We changed positions from above the rail to below the rail for the remainder of the show, kissing and grinding the whole time. We were so… fucking… horny. When the final song ended, we were caught off-guard and kept making out while others around us filed out. It was pretty obnoxious to be that all over each other. But we finally stopped, looked around, and she grabbed me by my hand.
We walked out of the place, my cock at full mast and tenting all the way down my pants. Based on how she fucking looked (she was easily the hottest looking girl in the place) and my cock standing out so obnoxiously, let’s just say we elicited more than a couple stares as we exited the Indy House. Enough that a couple people even followed us as we found a “quiet” location on the side of the building to finish what we started.
We found a wall about 10 feet away from a big dumpster and I slammed her up against the building and fucking mauled her. We were overcome with so much lust, and we just had to have each other. I grabbed her again by her ass and lifted her up, prompting her to wrap her legs around me as I shoved my tongue down her throat.
I ran my hands up her sides and this time, lifted her shirt to expose that pink bra and her covered tits, which looked way bigger and fuller than they ever did in just a shirt. I grabbed her by the bottom of the bra and released her tits, which barely moved as they were firm as fuck, exposing her full tits which suddenly looked more like solid C’s and maybe even small D’s now that they were freed. Her breasts boasted a pair of brown, three-inch wide areola and generous nipples that were already rock hard. In the soft, yellow light of the parking lot, I could see an almost regal shine on her tits, almost as if they sparkled. And I could also hear the first peeps from our peanut gallery, as the eight or so people watching us exclaimed at the sight of her tits.
I dipped my head down and suckled at those full, gravity-defying tits, causing her to moan incessantly. She dipped her head back down to meet mine to resume our blurry, panting kisses.
At that point, she wiggled out of my grasp to get on the ground, ready to free my foot-long cock. Breathing heavily, she got down on her knees and began unbuttoning my jeans. You could feel the mood of anticipation from everybody watching, as they could see my fuck-stick through my jeans. I looked up from Dom and over at the group, and the boys and girls were holding each other, rubbing each other, and all 16 eyes were glued to my cock. Eighteen if you count Dominique. The voyeur in me really got off and my cock flexed as she negotiated with the zipper.
As she got it all the way down, she angled her eyes back up at mine and smiled, then dug her fingers in and pulled my pants down, again creating that dreaded springing effect as it popped up and hit her in her shoulder. After my tryst with Liz earlier in the day, it was déjà vu.
As my arm-thick cock came into view, the entire group of people watching gasped. A couple of “holy fucks” and “oh my God” cascaded out. But the only exclamations I was worried about were Dominique’s.
“Oh my fuck, it’s so fucking huge and beautiful,” she said to me, smiling, as she raised both hands to stroke it. She laughed and just looked at me in disbelief. “Wow, I can’t even wrap my hands around it!” I made my cock flex in acknowledgment as she wasted no time lowering her mouth to my candy apple cock head.
Dom was small, but she had a big, wide mouth and she actually had very little problem getting it inside her mouth. She immediately got my cock head to the entrance of her throat, but that was about as far as it was going to go – at least for now. But she knew what she was doing, sucking as much in as she could while she stroked me with her right hand and massaged by kiwi-sized balls with her left.
In really no time at all, I was ready to burst. I tried to warn her and as I did, she stopped altogether, squeezing me hard around the base of my cock and lifting her head off of me.
“Oh no,” she said. “This isn’t ending like that.”
Oblivious to the people watching us dumbfounded, she stood up and grabbed under her skirt to remove her thong. Lowering it over her fuck me boots, she grabbed me by my neck to climb on board. This time, as I lifted her, we awkwardly tried to position her so that her now-exposed pussy could line up with my ridiculously long cock. Of course, when it stood straight up, my cock damn near reached my nipples. So she hand to climb on to me, straightening her body out by basically doing a push up off of my shoulders, and doing the splits at the same time.
Thank God she was once a cheerleader!
We somehow managed for our nasty parts to meet, and I parted her lips and let gravity do its part.
Oh sweet merciful God, was she tight. She was screaming before I even got a full two inches in. But I give her credit, she adjusted quickly. I got about halfway in and I thought I felt myself bottom out, but I was able to keep going deeper and deeper, creating screams and moans that were louder and louder. By the time I saw her lip quivering from an oncoming orgasm (that she was trying to choke back because of the spectators), I had about 10 inches in before I finally felt the final wall.
“Oh my God,” she screamed. “I swear I feel you in my fucking stomach.”
I dicked her nice and deep for a solid two minutes, finally eliciting a silent orgasm out of her, before I felt myself inflate and get ready for my orgasm.
Wanting to show off a bit, I lowered her off of me and got her on her knees. I began to jerk my own cock, but she instead grabbed on with both hands. Since there was room for both my hand and two of hers, we kept working together until my moment finally came.
I squirted her hard right on her cheek and then kept spraying, load after load, counting each squirt. I came across the alleyway, a few squirts painting the brick wall across the way. By the time squirt #11 came and she was still pumping me, shocked as all hell that I was still cumming in high volume, I strangely didn’t feel even close to satisfied. I knew this was going to be a big one.
I went to and beyond my record of 16, and though I eventually lost count, I settled somewhere around 21. I was fucking spent and this was SO FUCKING HOT.
All the people watching were moaning. I was moaning. Dom was moaning. I saw two couples begin making out right away and a few others rubbing themselves. We had put on a hell of a show. And Dominique looked so fucking happy. After weeks of playing around, we had finally come together.
On the drive home, she surprised me even further by pulling off halfway, hiding in an alley, and unzipping me and blowing me again. It was so hot --- this time she tried to swallow, but the sheer volume of my cum made her choke and she spit the saliva and sperm cocktail all over my pants and onto my pubic region, soaking me in the hot liquid. But there was no mistaking it --- she was hot for me and hot for my cock --- FINALLY!
As she stopped at my house, I talked with her for a bit and I had to ask her about all the other stuff that went down between us. Was she actually ok?
“Honestly, it still hurts,” she said, the lust finally disappearing from her face. “But you were with Jessica, and Amanda, and now this Liz girl, I don’t know. I just get jealous as hell. I’ve always liked you.”
“I’ve always liked you from the moment I first met you.”
Well, that was new information. This year, well that’s one thing. But during freshman year? When we were lab partners? My former life? She liked me then?
“Wow,” I said. “I had no idea. I was such a nerd last year.”
“Stop it, no you weren’t!” she said. “You always made me laugh, you drew me those funny pictures, and we always talked and had fun before class.”
Come to think of it, we did. I got along with her really well. But I was too blinded by my crush on Niki to notice.
“Do you remember when I asked you if you thought Janet Jackson was hot?”
I did. She was asking me which girls I thought were hot and she brought up Janet Jackson. She was the big shit that year – that was the year she came out with that album where on the cover, she was naked and the guy had a hand bra over her tits. Every dude seemed to either have a Janet Jackson thing or a lingering Cindy Crawford thing.
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, you told me you didn’t like Janet Jackson.” Which I really didn’t. She had nice tits and all, but I wasn’t going to tell a hot girl like Dominique that I thought another woman was hot.
“And I don’t,” I said. “She’s not really my style.”
“Well, that whole year, everybody told me I looked like Janet Jackson,” she said. “So I figured if you said you liked Janet Jackson, that meant you liked me too.”
Such faulty logic. Of course I liked Dominique! I always did. But Janet Jackson carried herself way differently than Dominique did. Plus, she was a fucking Jackson. I mean, seriously!
“Sweetie,” I said, grabbing her hand. “You’re nothing like her,” I told her. “I’ve never associated you with her. I’ve always just thought you were hot.”
“Really.” And I leaned over and kissed her.
“Besides,” I told her. “Your tits are way better than hers,” I thought, flashing back to her flash on the Super Bowl halftime that would happen years latter, and those gross chocolate starfish nipples.
“You like my boobs, huh?”
“Shit, you’ve been holding out on me!” I said. “I had no idea they were that big and nice. They’re like sneaky big.” I paused. “Mind if I ask what size bra you wear?”
She smiled. “I go back and forth between a 34D and a 32C,” she said. “Depends on the store.”
“Wow,” I uttered out.
She looked down at me, “No, I’m going to say ‘wow’,” she said. “Are you getting hard AGAIN?”
I looked down and saw a slightly enlarging bulge down my pant leg.
“Hmm, I guess so,” I shrugged. She reached out and grabbed it.
“You’re just a fucking machine, aren’t you?” she said, leaning over to kiss me.
“So, are we good?” I asked.
She looked at me with doubt in her eyes, since she had to get one big thing off her chest.
“Well, are you fucking that Liz girl?”
And there it was. The moment of decision. I was an honest guy and was never good at this two-timing business.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. “We’re going to be an item now, right? Like, be together?” She nodded. “So that means complete honesty, right?” She nodded again apprehensively. I didn’t like the look on her face.
“Well, I’ve been kind of, vaguely, seeing Liz since Valentine’s,” I said. She got a sad look on her face.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, we’ve been secret about it. Her parents can’t know. The people at school can’t even know. So it was very, you know, first grade…”
And I thought about it. Should I tell her what happened today? I had to. I had to be honest.
So I told her the story. Walking her home, her coming on to me, things getting out of hand, and ending with a handjob.
She sat there in stunned silence for a second. I felt like something needed to be said.
“Believe me when I say that if I was officially with you, like we are now, I would have never done that.”
She thought about it for a while. Then with a bit of venom in her voice, she said, “That didn’t stop you from kissing me while you were going out with Jessica.”
Fuck. I guess she’s right. I guess I had cheated. Hell, I may have cheated on Liz tonight.
“Listen, I didn’t think her and I were together together,” I rationalized. “I mean, I was even with Amanda during that time, and JB didn’t seem to care.”
“Trust me, she cared,” she said emotionally. “She just didn’t want to lose you.”
“Well, listen, I didn’t know she cared about me, and I know I made some shitty choices in the past, but this is different. I promise you. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
I don’t think I realized it until the words came out of my mouth, but it was true. I did always want her. She was the one I had a connection with. Hell, even freshman year, she was the only girl I could think of that really even talked to me.
“Besides, after the way things ended today with Liz, I think she’s made at me anyway.”
“You came all over her house with a foot long cock!” she said. “You might as well be Lucifer incarnate feeding her the apple!”
We both laughed at that, and she grabbed my hand and pierced my eyes.
“Charlie, please, for me, break it off with her. Tell her you’re just friends. Something. And let me know when you do.”
With that, we kissed passionately good night, and I left her car and she drove off.
And clearly, I have lots of thinking to do.
I’ll update you tomorrow friend.
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