Seeing a heavily veined c.o.c.k makes my juices flow. They're my favorite kind. The image of Tim's c.o.c.k stayed on my mind all morning, making my p.u.s.s.y very wet. In the middle of my daydreaming, the doorbell rang and I opened the door in my nightgown. There he was, the same guy who was masturbating a few hours before.

Tim asked if he could call the phone company, because his phone was not working. After he made the call, I tried to stall him by asking him to change a light bulb in the bas.e.m.e.nt for me. I saw that he was trying to get a peek at my protruding b.r.e.a.s.t.s so I showed them to him and asked him to touch them. He hesitantly touched me and soon I saw the big growth in his shorts. I took his hand, pulled him into the bedroom, and pulled his shorts down. At first he covered himself with his hands but when I removed all of my clothes he was no longer shy. What a surprise. In front of me was the best and the biggest p.e.n.i.s I had ever seen. When I touched it, I found it was also the hardest one I'd ever felt. I could not believe my eyes. The veins stuck out like roots. Tim started squeezing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s while looking at my shaved p.u.s.s.y. His c.o.c.k was fully erect and pointing at the ceiling at forty-five degrees. His c.o.c.khead was the size of a plum.

My husband is very proud of his p.e.n.i.s, and I keep a measuring tape and a pair of calipers on hand in order to take accurate measurements of his proud possession. I also have a Polaroid camera to take photos of it in all its glory. Now I got the calipers and measured Tim's c.o.c.k. The head was two point six inches wide at its widest point. The shaft was two point four inches wide and, according to the measuring tape, a little over seven inches around (seven point two to be exact). He had big veins coming from the root of the c.o.c.k on both sides. The whole c.o.c.k was dark red and throbbing. He asked me if my p.u.s.s.y was big enough to accommodate his c.o.c.k, adding that he had tried to have s.e.x with a woman before but she couldn't handle his size. This made my juices flow even more and they began dripping down my legs. Tim noticed it and I explained that he excited me very much. Using the calipers, I remeasured his k.n.o.b, which was now two point seven inches wide. I remeasured the thickness of his shaft, which had swelled to two point five inches wide with a circ.u.mference of seven point five inches. I was dying to measure its length. While he was playing with my p.u.s.s.y, I asked him to stand up straight so I could measure his beautiful, powerful, young p.e.n.i.s. It was nine and three-quarter inches long. He told me that the last time he had measured it, it had been eight and a half inches long, but it was still growing.

I was dying to ride him, so I had him lie on his back. I straddled him and guided his c.o.c.k into my waiting p.u.s.s.y. I took all but the last half inch of it. After five minutes my p.u.s.s.y, which was almost stretched to its limit, took all of it. Before he came I pulled out his p.e.n.i.s and took a few pictures of it, all wet and shiny. Its redness, huge head, and bulging veins looked amplified. When he slid it in again it took less time to get it all in. When he came, I tightened my inner muscles and I felt his come spurting out. Later, when he came for the second time, his come overflowed out of my p.u.s.s.y. He came for the third time without getting soft, so we f.u.c.ked for nearly an hour before I got too tired and had to stop.

I tried to give him head but I was unable to get his c.o.c.khead in my mouth so I licked the rim of his helmet until he shot his load over seven feet onto the carpet. Then he went soft. Soft, he measured seven inches long. I asked him if he would be embarra.s.sed to come in front of my husband, a.s.suring him that my husband would love the show. He said okay, then he left. My p.u.s.s.y had not yet recovered when my husband made love to me the same evening, but his p.e.n.i.s seemed smaller to me and did not feel as big as it used to feel.

I knew that my husband would like to see me f.u.c.k another man in front of him. He was surprised when I told him that an eighteen-year-old was going to join us for a little fun. He expressed doubt that an eighteen-year-old's p.e.n.i.s would satisfy me, but he agreed it might be entertaining.

The next weekend Tim came over as planned. At first he seemed apprehensive with my husband there, but when we both undressed, he started to undress, too. When my husband saw his fully erect p.e.n.i.s, his mouth dropped open in disbelief. His own p.e.n.i.s looked small in comparison with our neighbor's. My husband's p.e.n.i.s became as hard as I had ever seen it, but even when he squeezed the base of it, restricting the blood flow, his veins protruded less than the ones on the nine-and-three-quarter-inch giant.

My husband started touching Tim's c.o.c.k, comparing the hardness to his own. I did the same. My husband was no match for a younger, harder c.o.c.k. When my husband said that he could still e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e six feet, Tim started to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e. I took over and made him e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e over eight feet. This sight excited my husband so much that he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed without touching his c.o.c.k, reaching a new record of seven feet.

We spent the rest of the afternoon fooling around with our newfound friend. I'm sure we taught him a few new tricks.

Tim turned nineteen in December, and his c.o.c.k now measures ten and one-sixteenth inches long. His thickness is still the same. My p.u.s.s.y is keeping up with it, since it gets stretched by him at least twice a week.

But here's the rub. The teenager's p.e.n.i.s is giving me much more intense o.r.g.a.s.ms than my husband's. With my husband I can come only once in ten minutes, for that's how long he usually lasts. Whenever I make love to Tim I have lots of o.r.g.a.s.ms.

An interesting thing happened last weekend. I told a girlfriend of mine about Tim's big p.e.n.i.s, and she asked if we would be interested in turning our threesome into a foursome. When Liz met my husband, they hit it off right away. She seemed in awe of my husband's c.o.c.k, which was the largest she had ever seen. Her husband's is six and a half inches long, and one and five-eighths wide. Liz had only had six lovers before she met her husband, and this was her first out-of-marriage experience ever. She is a well-built blonde. She's two inches taller than I am, with nearly the same size b.r.e.a.s.t.s as mine, but her areolae are the largest I have ever seen-four inches across-while mine are only two and seven-eighths inches across. She had rarely o.r.g.a.s.med with her husband, while my husband gave her two o.r.g.a.s.ms in a row while they were f.u.c.king. She lavished attention on my husband's heavily veined shaft, which gave him back his confidence about his c.o.c.k.

Tim arrived on time, not expecting another woman. The air was full of the smell of s.e.x, and he soon joined us in bed. When my girlfriend saw Tim's erection she completely forgot about my husband and practically jumped on the guy. She loudly commented on the size, the color, and the hardness of his c.o.c.k.

My husband put a c.o.c.kring around the base of his p.e.n.i.s, which became engorged with blood. He asked Liz and me to compare the hardness of his artificially engorged c.o.c.k with Tim's. My girlfriend and I squeezed and examined both p.e.n.i.ses, and agreed that Tim's was much harder even without any artificial aid. Tim tried to penetrate Liz, but she was able to take only half of the big head. Instead, she put Tim on his back and lowered her p.u.s.s.y onto his giant c.o.c.k. Even though she was very wet, I could see from the expression on her face that she was having trouble with his size. After a few minutes of her gyrations on his c.o.c.k Tim had a tremendous o.r.g.a.s.m, during which she was able to take the big head and an inch of the shaft in her well-stretched p.u.s.s.y. By now she was sweating and a red flush covered her chest, sure signs that she was at maximum arousal. She asked for a mirror to see how much more of the c.o.c.k she had to take, before declaring that no woman could take such a big p.e.n.i.s.

I decided to show her that she was wrong. Jumping on Tim, it took me only a minute to get his whole c.o.c.k in. My husband m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed while he watched, approaching his second o.r.g.a.s.m. After I'd had three o.r.g.a.s.ms in a row (in about ten minutes), I told my girlfriend to try it again. She asked me to show her my p.u.s.s.y. We both sat in front of the mirror examining and comparing our p.u.s.s.ies. We plainly saw that my p.u.s.s.y was a little bigger. Tim had a violent o.r.g.a.s.m watching us spread our l.a.b.i.a. But he stayed as hard as before.

Not wanting to give up, my girlfriend tried to sit on Tim's mighty organ once more. It took her ten minutes to work it into her p.u.s.s.y, but he began bottoming out before he could get the last three inches in. Even with her maximum effort she was able to take only seven inches of his c.o.c.k.

At least I know now (I am very much into measurements and sizes, as I'm sure you've figured out) that my girlfriend's p.u.s.s.y is seven inches deep, while mine is ten inches deep. I do envy her four-inch areolae, which my husband also likes a lot. We plan to have much more fun with Liz and Tim in the very near future. Liz prefers my husband to Tim, which does wonders for my husband's ego. I, however, must admit that I prefer Tim's c.o.c.k. Women with big p.u.s.s.ies need a big c.o.c.k, and I now know this for a fact!

-B.V., Providence, Rhode Island.

Lifeguard Lover.

One day this past summer I sat on the beach, catching some rays and trying to improve my mood. I had recently broken up with my boyfriend, and I was feeling a little lonely and more than a little h.o.r.n.y. My body was tense with pent-up energy-most of it s.e.xual. I hoped that a brisk swim in the ocean would cool me off. I got up and dove into the turquoise Pacific. The water felt cold but invigorating, and it awakened my deadened nerves. I swam parallel to the coastline, feeling as though I could go on forever.

Then I felt a sharp pain in my calf. I realized I'd been stung by a jellyfish, and I screamed and kicked it away from me. The pain was still intense as I limped out of the water, crying.

"What happened?" I heard.

I looked up and saw a lifeguard. He was tan, tall, and hunky, staring at me with eyes that shimmered with blue heat. I wanted to smile, but could only grimace as a new wave of pain shot through my leg.

"d.a.m.ned jellyfish stung me," I said through clenched teeth.

"I can fix it," he said. "Come on."

Even though I was distracted by my leg, I couldn't help marveling at the firm a.s.s under his bright-red shorts, or the strength in his long, muscular legs as he strode through the sand. At his station, the lifeguard pulled out a jar filled with medicated cotton b.a.l.l.s. "This stuff will take the sting out," he said. "Where did he get you?"

"My calf," I said.

"This won't hurt," the lifeguard said as he dabbed on the cool medication. "You'll be swimming again in no time."

He was very gentle as he took hold of my calf and bathed it with the medicine. I could feel the pain starting to recede. The lifeguard was bent over my leg and all I could see of him was his silky brown hair and his firm, muscular hands on my skin. I felt heat shooting through my body, but this time it wasn't from the sting.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Much better," I answered.

Slowly his hands slid up my leg. "Does it hurt up here at all?" he asked.

I couldn't pull my eyes away from his. "Not anymore," I said, almost breathless with sudden antic.i.p.ation.

He tossed aside the cotton ball and began to rub the inner surface of my thigh. "How's that?" he asked.

"Good. Very good." Helpless in my longing for him, I wished I could get him to slide one of those strong fingers into my c.u.n.t. I waited a few minutes for him to finger me, knowing that if he didn't soon, I would guide his hand to my p.u.s.s.y myself.

He didn't touch my c.u.n.t, though, and I guess I chickened out. Finally, after a long silence, he got up and said, "You should be careful if you go back in the water. But if you get stung again, you'll know where to come. If I'm not here, just ask for Gary. They'll know where to find me."

I shrugged, unable to hide my disappointment. Maybe he just wasn't interested in me. "Thanks, Gary. Bye."

When I got back to my blanket, my mind was still fixed on Gary and the way his hands had felt on me. I was annoyed at myself for not taking things a step further. I decided to go back to my beach house for a shower.

I stepped into the outdoor shower stall, threw my towel over the side, and slipped out of my kimono. I turned on the water and stepped into the cool freshness of the spray. When I shower, I always take my time, casually soaping up my body and hair and rinsing them over and over. This day I was even more languorous than usual. I could not stop thinking about that lifeguard. It had been ages since I'd felt such intense s.e.xual desire.

My soapy hands slid across my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Tentatively I touched my taut nipples. A silken warmth began to spread from my belly to my v.a.g.i.n.a. I gasped softly and, unable to hold back, squeezed both nipples tightly. I was beginning to feel weak with s.e.xual need, and leaned back against the shower wall to stroke my swollen c.l.i.t, imagining that it was the lifeguard's fingers and c.o.c.k that were sending such pleasurable sensations rippling through my body.

A sudden rap on the shower door caused me to stop abruptly. I guiltily pulled my hand away from my p.u.s.s.y and asked who it was.

"It's me, Gary. I have some more medicine for your jellyfish sting."

My body began to tremble as I unlatched the door. "It's open," I said.

The door swung open and then he was inside. His eyes moved lazily down my naked body. He refastened the latch and stripped off his suit. His c.o.c.k was impressive. I stared at him, barely breathing, as a lazy grin crossed his face. "Do you need some help?" He reached for the bottle of shampoo on the ledge beside me and poured a large amount into his palm. He began to work up a lather in my pubic hair as the tip of his tongue made contact with my stiff nipple. I spread my legs to give him easier access. After a moment, his soapy hands slid up to my neck and he kissed me deeply.

His eyes dropped to my legs. "Does the bite still hurt?" he asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, he dropped to his knees and began to move his tongue up and down the lips of my t.w.a.t. I shuddered at the delicious fire that his touch sent through my body. My hands clutched his tanned shoulders and I thrust my pelvis forward. His sweet tongue sank deep into my c.u.n.t.

He probed the walls of my box while jiggling my c.l.i.t with his thumb. I wrapped a leg around his neck and pulled him tightly against me. His entire face was buried in my m.u.f.f. Soon my f.u.c.k juice flowed like water. He lapped it up greedily while grabbing my a.s.s and ma.s.saging the cheeks. With his tongue plunging deep into my p.u.s.s.y, he brought me to a fever pitch of ecstasy. Gasping and moaning, my fingers tangled in his thick, brown hair, I gave myself up to him.

I was just about ready to come when, without warning, he stopped the exquisite delight he was bringing to my s.e.x-starved body. "No," I pleaded. "Please don't stop."

He said nothing and quickly stood up. I stared with uninhibited joy at the magnificence of his erect c.o.c.k. As Gary pulled me to him, I could feel his giant p.r.i.c.k pulsing against my l.a.b.i.a. I wanted that c.o.c.k inside me!

He cupped one of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s in his hand, his thumb ma.s.saging the erect nipple. "Now," he said. His mouth came down hungrily on mine. I grasped him around the waist, feeling his hard shaft pressing up against my p.u.s.s.y. My tongue began to trace circles along his neck and down his smooth, hard chest. I licked at the tender skin near his armpit and pulled away to look up at him.

"I've never done it standing up before," I said. "Show me how."

Effortlessly, he lifted me from the floor of the shower. Automatically, my legs twined around his torso. His eyes never left mine as his c.o.c.k eased into me. I gasped, unprepared for the effect his huge, perfect d.i.c.k was to have on me. It pressed against the walls of my p.u.s.s.y, filling me as I had never been filled before.

He thrust into me with deep, slow strokes. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his hands on my b.u.t.tocks guided me up and down to meet his rhythm. I began to breathe faster as he picked up speed. Gary would pull almost all the way out, teasing my p.u.s.s.y lips with the bulb of his p.r.i.c.k, then slide it all the way in again. After a few minutes I was delirious, and came in a series of explosions that thundered within me like little bombs. Seconds later, Gary came inside me, groaning like an animal as he emptied his load into my c.u.n.t.

I haven't been stung by any more jellyfish, but that hasn't kept Gary from stopping by my outdoor shower every day. Now I'm not lonely-or h.o.r.n.y-anymore.

-K.S., Carlsbad, California.

Minding the Store.

It was a quiet Sat.u.r.day in a sleepy town in the West. I was working with Rachel in a small retail store.

Rachel was a prim and proper gal with firm religious principles, to the point of being prudish. She appeared to be taller than her five-feet-six-inch frame, but maybe that was just her moral uprightness I was seeing. Her pale complexion contrasted with her dark hair beautifully, and she had a pretty smile.

During a lull in business she complained about her neck hurting. In reply, I started to knead her neck for a few minutes. There was a sudden silence between us. The tension was finally broken by a customer entering the store.

Later in the afternoon I was bending over to get some sacks from under the counter when she dragged her hand across the cheeks of my a.s.s, pretending it was an accident. When closing time came, I locked the front and back doors while Rachel checked out the tills. We both finished at the same time and met at the back counter.

Rachel again complained about her neck, so I offered to rub it again. She accepted and stood in front of me. I began rubbing her neck and immediately the sparks were flying-you could feel the tension in the room. She rotated her neck in rhythm to my ma.s.sage and leaned back against me. I immediately got aroused and thought about kissing her neck. I leaned forward to her ear and asked her how she felt. Before I knew it she groaned, turned around and kissed me, all in one motion. She also started grinding her hips into my groin.

That was the fastest hard-on I ever got and she loved it, grinding her p.u.s.s.y into my hard rod. She had on a loose blouse and matching slacks. I reached up underneath her blouse and unsnapped her bra, freeing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she began to breathe harder. Somehow we ended up on the floor, all the while her c.u.n.t was grinding and rubbing against my throbbing p.e.n.i.s. We were on fire. (I found out later that I was the first man to touch her in six months, since her husband was not very active when he was home and had been away for three months on a new job.) I reached inside her pants and caressed her buns, but she wouldn't let me touch her p.u.s.s.y. This went on for fifteen minutes or more. I couldn't figure it out-she was on fire, but I wasn't getting anywhere.

Out of desperation I grabbed the cuffs of her blouse and pulled it off, first one arm then the other. She said, "I really shouldn't be doing this," as she wrapped her legs around me. I was surprised that she had much bigger b.r.e.a.s.t.s than what was suggested by the clothes she wore. Her talking stopped when I grabbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and tenderly kissed them, nibbling on her peaked nipples. As I unzipped her pants and pulled them down, she lifted her hips to help me take them off.

Just as our bodies were ready to meet, she said, "You know I'm married."

"Don't worry, Rachel," I said, "I'm prepared," and got a rubber out and rolled it down my d.i.c.k. When my p.r.i.c.k entered her slick p.u.s.s.y, we both groaned as our bodies merged. She came quickly. I was able to time my finish just as she came again, moaning and groaning loudly.

After we calmed down, she apologized for her brazenness, telling me that she just couldn't control her desire. I a.s.sured her that no harm was done, since the s.e.x drive is stronger than most people realize. Her religious background had held her back until then, but it was like trying to hold back a big eighteen-wheeler going downhill without brakes.

I invited her to join me several other times at work. She never turned down an invitation, and each encounter was just as pa.s.sionate as the first.

Out of all of the women in this town, I would have picked her the most unlikely to be unfaithful. The whole ordeal has taught me two valuable lessons: Never underestimate the power of religion, and if you have a good rap with a gal just about anything is possible.

-G.R., Provo, Utah.

Drive My Car.

I am now age sixty-two, but this story will live in my mind until the day I die. It began in the early fifties when I decided to get out of the military and go to college.

I was staying with my parents at the time and I had found a job for the summer to save some money for college. It was an electronics firm and I worked in shipping and receiving. My supervisor told me the business was run by a woman who was only twenty-six years old. He, like the rest of management, referred to their lady boss as "Poker Face."

Her father had died and her mother had pa.s.sed away only one month later. Because she was the only child, the business was left to her. And I learned her father had taught her the business well. Knowing this, I had imagined Miss Poker Face to be ugly, ill tempered, and spoiled.

The first time I set eyes on this lady (whom I will call Samantha) I was quite surprised, to put it mildly. She was gorgeous! She was tall, about five feet ten inches, with shoulder-length blonde hair and legs that just wouldn't quit!

I stared at her through one of the windows that surrounded her outer office as she talked to another coworker. I stood nailed to the spot, and got a hard-on just by looking at her. No female had ever had that kind of effect on me! She happened to look through the window and notice me. She smiled and waved.

A couple of days later I met her face to face and we talked. We exchanged names and other pleasantries. She was very friendly and smiled a lot, or at least she did to me. Many of my coworkers said later that she had never acted that way toward anyone else at the plant, not even people who were in management positions. I said I didn't know why she was so friendly, and that was the truth. All I knew for sure was that I liked her looks. But I let it go at that, because I wasn't in the same league with this lady. She was from the upper crust of society, doing charity work and G.o.d knows what else. She was constantly in the society pages of the papers.

A few weeks pa.s.sed, and my supervisor came up and said that Miss Poker Face wanted to see me in her office. He wanted to know what the h.e.l.l was going on. The only answer I could give him was, "How should I know?"

I went to her office and her secretary announced me. Samantha came to the door and asked me to come inside. She told her secretary to hold all calls and that she was not to be disturbed.

When we sat down Samantha spoke first. She said she had a job for me, and she had taken the liberty of having a friend who worked for the state Justice Department check me out. She rattled off some things about me that I had long forgotten. She said she needed a driver for her car and that if I wanted the job I would have to move into her home. She also said it would pay well and my expenses would be included.

She swiveled around in her chair to face me, leaning back with only her toes touching the floor. Her skirt rode up, and I noticed her light-blue panties with a fringe of wild blonde hair clearly visible. I had an aching hard-on. It was just too much. She then said, "Why don't we go out to the house, so you can see your room and then give me your answer. You can follow me in your car."

When we arrived at her home, we went straight to her office. She asked me to make her a scotch and water and whatever I wanted, and then excused herself for a few minutes. When she returned she sat behind her desk and turned toward me. There was that flash of panties again! But now she had on white panties. She had changed. My c.o.c.k was so hard it was giving me fits! I stuck my hand into my pocket to hide my hard-on and got up and turned on the stereo. The theme from the movie Picnic was playing and I started swaying with the music.

Samantha got up and said, "I see you like good music, too," and moved right into my arms and started dancing. I tried not to touch her as my c.o.c.k was so hard a cat couldn't scratch it. But, as fate would have it, she caught her heel in the carpet and stumbled into me and my hard c.o.c.k!

I apologized and she said, "For what? I feel the same way toward you as you feel toward me. In fact," she said, "I'm glad you like me." We moved closer together with the music. She laid her head on my shoulder and kissed my neck while she moved her mound against my hard c.o.c.k. Suddenly she put both arms around my neck and said, "Hold me tight!"

I thought, What the h.e.l.l, I was looking for another job anyway, and slid my hands down, cupped her a.s.s with both hands, and pulled her tight against my hard c.o.c.k. She took a deep breath and shuddered. She had come while rubbing my c.o.c.k! I was about to come in my shorts. She whispered in my ear that she was so glad I liked her because I did things to her no man had ever done.

I replied, "Sure I like you. You're gorgeous. In fact, you look good enough to eat." She whispered in my ear that n.o.body had ever said that to her as we started kissing and exploring. We were dry-humping each other as I grabbed her skirt from the rear and hiked it up to her waist. She didn't protest as I backed her against the desk, laid her back, and pulled her panties off, dropping them to the plastic mat that the chair was sitting on. Her panties were so soaked that they made a wet splat when I dropped them. I could see that she was so absorbed in this l.u.s.t that nothing else mattered. I sat in the chair, spread her legs, and parted her thick pubic hair. I really wanted to eat p.u.s.s.y for the first time in my life! She had the most beautiful p.u.s.s.y that I had ever set eyes on, and I had seen plenty of them when I was in the service!

The first lick ran from bottom to top. She took a breath, let it out, and said, "Yes, yes, yes! Oh, G.o.d, yes!" She wrapped one leg around my head and the other across my back, pulling my face toward her p.u.s.s.y. Very soon she held her breath and slowly tightened her legs until I knew she was going to come. So I just wrapped my lips around her c.l.i.t and flicked my tongue over it until she exploded in o.r.g.a.s.m. The way she was humping my face, I thought I might drown in pleasure. She was discharging the sweetest p.u.s.s.y syrup one could imagine. I sat for a minute, staring at her and this incredible flower of hers, hypnotized.

Enough of this, I thought. My c.o.c.k was leaking on the floor and needed some relief. As she lay there, still in the process of catching her breath, I put her legs across my arms and eased the head of my seven-inch d.i.c.k into her flooded c.u.n.t. She was tight! I knew she had been married briefly and then divorced, but this was virgin p.u.s.s.y! After a bit, I had my meat fully in the core of her c.u.n.t. I could feel her cervix with the head of my c.o.c.k. I just held still as I felt her grip and release my d.i.c.k. I knew I was going to lose it if I didn't keep still for a couple of minutes.

After a moment I began to move my a.s.s in circles as she moaned and groaned, mumbling, "So good, so good. Yes, yes, yes. Do it to me!" Again I tried to hold still, but she wouldn't. I gritted my teeth as I didn't want to come just yet. I wanted to enjoy it because that was by far the best p.u.s.s.y this old boy had ever had in his life! (Getting her pregnant wasn't a worry because I had had a vasectomy some time before that-and this was long before they were in vogue.) But holding back was not to be-I shot a hard line of come against her cervix and she got crazy in a hurry!

Her calves were over my shoulders as I held her to my c.o.c.k, holding on to her thighs as we came like gangbusters.

After a while, when we had gained a little control of ourselves, she said, "You flooded me, bless your heart." My c.o.c.k was still hard, so I started to thrust into her again. The smell and sounds of f.u.c.king filled the room along with the steady dripping of come on the plastic mat.

Afterward, we sat there for about ten minutes coming back down to earth. She was slumped forward with her head on my shoulder as we listened to our juices drip on the mat. Still impaled on my c.o.c.k, she spoke first. "Well, I've experienced a few firsts today. Can you believe that?"

"Like what?" I asked her.