“Oh. My. GOD. You have to tell us everything!” Courtney said as I returned home wearing Mr. Chapman’s sweatpants and t-shirt looking like I had just run a marathon.

“I plead the fifth,” I said, heading into my closet to change back into my PJ’s. I was excited to get a bra back on. My natural E cups had been braless for a couple hours now and those puppies needed support.

“Oh, come on, you were over there for almost two hours and came back in his clothes with your hair still wet. Did you guys have shower sex?” Jasmine asked, giving me an exaggerated gasp.

“No, we didn’t have shower sex,” I said. It was mostly true. “Where did you guys go? You left me there without my towel, what were you thinking the whole time I was gone?”

“Well, first we panicked and ran, but then wanted to make sure you were okay so we went back. We saw you walking into his house with his shirt on, you didn’t look too upset. We figured maybe he was going to call the house and tell your parents so we came back here ready to cover for you,” Courtney said.

“For two hours?”

“Well, we didn’t know what was going on. Any longer and we were gonna call the cops,” Jasmine said.

“Stop changing the subject Missy, what happened? Did you guys bang? Did you give him your number? When are you guys meeting again? Are you going to have his babies?” Courtney asked, unable to contain her excitement.

“None of your business, still none of your business, no, I don’t know, and I hope not,” I said. That last question reminded me I forgot to take my birth control and there was a gallon of my neighbor’s sperm inside me. Not literally, but it felt like it. I casually went over to my makeup bag and took my pill, trying not to draw attention to it so they didn’t freak out.

“ ’None of your business’ means you guys totally did it,” Courtney grinned.

“So this was, like, a one-night stand? He’s just gonna hit it and quit it?” Jasmine asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “We didn’t really talk about it.”

“Hailey, come ON. He’s hot, rich, hung… why are you not trying to lock this down?” Courtney asked, grabbing my shoulders and looking me in the eyes like she was about to suggest an intervention.

“Honestly, I’m still trying to process what happened. It all went so fast, I didn’t have time to think. I just kinda… reacted in the moment. I didn’t consider what any of it means for the future.” I plopped down on my bed and felt Mr. Chapman’s seed sloshing around in my stomach like when you’ve eaten too much soup. Given how much I swallowed, it wasn’t surprising.

“Typical Hailey, stonewalling us to the very end,” Courtney sighed.

“I just need time to process it, OK? My body was just home to an anaconda and filled to the brim with man milk less than an hour ago. Besides, we have homework to do,” I said.

“So he was big!” Jasmine smiled. My eyes widened as I remembered just how big he was. Both Courtney and Jasmine’s jaws dropped and they became giddy with excitement.

“Stop me when I’ve got it right,” Courtney said, holding her hands up in front of her about six inches apart and slowly widening them. 

“Guys, seriously, drop it,” I insisted. I was both embarrassed, excited, and confused. I had never done anything like a one-night stand before in my entire life, and to have such an intense one as my very first time? It was a lot to handle.

They reluctantly dropped it. I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to sleep. Unfortunately, we had to finish our homework and my little sexcapade put us two hours behind schedule. We took a good dent out of the assignment but didn’t have time to fully finish before my body crashed. We had a few hours in the morning before we had to leave for class though, so we agreed to finish then.

The three of us went to bed, and I had the most peaceful night’s sleep of my life filled with dreams of my wild night.

Mr. Chapman (I still didn’t know his first name) panted on top of me. His large, muscular body was wrapped around me like a blanket. I was belly down on his couch, still covered from chin to belly button in sperm from his first orgasm. I felt his massive, and I mean massive, cock still inside me slowly deflating, but no less impressive. His heartbeat pumped through his thick cock and I felt it pulsing between my legs. I imagine he felt my heartbeat as well, since he was clutching my ample breasts. 

His large, black hands contrasted vividly against my pale white skin. An unfamiliar smell caught my attention. It reminded me of chlorine. Whatever it was, I didn’t much care because he had rocked my world and given me the most intense experience of my life. It was a hell of a way to lose my virginity.

“What just happened?” he asked, keeping his dick as deep inside me as he could even as it grew soft.

“I think we just became friends,” I said.

He laughed. “You’re a hell of a friend.”

I was hoping maybe he’d elaborate, suggest something else we might be, but I suppose it was too early in our relationship to come to any conclusions.

“Should we get cleaned up or something?” I asked. My hands, chin, and breasts were sticky as his sperm started to dry. I felt his second load leaking from between my legs and knew that would get sticky too if we didn’t wash it off soon. Plus, I just wanted to relax in some warm water. My body took a pounding.

“Yeah, I’ll get it ready for you,” he said.

He slipped his length out of me and I heard a slap as his dick hit his own thigh. My body suddenly felt lighter, empty. A deluge of sperm came out of me as his cock left and I quickly squeezed my thighs together to prevent it from getting all over his couch. That meant his warm seed was trapped inside me, but that was something I was just going to have to live with. He stood up and sauntered down the hall to a nearby room. The sound of water hitting tile came from inside, followed shortly by billowing steam. He poked his head out. “Ready when you are,” he said.

“Could I actually get some water? I’m really thirsty,” I said, my voice raspy from bestial moans and heavy breathing.

“Sure, let me get it for you.” He sauntered back over, his dick swinging with each step, and went into the kitchen. I heard the fridge open and close. He walked over with a bottle of water and a roll of paper towels. I stood up and heard a sticky peeling noise as my cum-covered skin came off of his black leather couch. I looked down at the mess we made. His sperm not only coated my chin, breasts, tummy, and thighs, but also a good portion of his couch. “It’s ok, I’ll clean it up. You hop in the shower and rinse yourself off,” he said. 

I took the bottle of ice-cold water from him and took a drink. My nipples perked up because of the cold. I noticed he was staring at my chest. 

“Not sick of them yet?” I asked.

“Never,” he smiled.

I gave him a wink and made my way into his bathroom. It was huge, compared to my bathroom at least. There were two marble sinks along one wall with plenty of storage drawers and cabinets. The sink was bare except for an electronic toothbrush in the corner. Clearly there wasn’t a woman in his life because there would have been makeup and hair products everywhere, I thought. 

A large TV was mounted into the wall and underneath it was a large jacuzzi style bathtub. You could probably squeeze four or five people into it if they liked each other. Immediately to my right was a standing shower tucked into the corner. To call it a shower was misleading. It was a small glass room with a giant shower head on the ceiling, a smaller one on the wall and a drain on the floor. It was large enough for me to sleep in. 

Warm, steamy water fell from a square shower head that took up a generous portion of the space. I stepped in and thought it felt like rain because the shower head was so large. A loofah, a bar of soap, and a single bottle of body wash/shampoo was inside the shower. Again, if a woman lived with him I thought there would be a lot more products. 

Given how impromptu our sex was, I sincerely doubted he cleaned up any signs of a different woman before I walked in. How was a guy like this single? Was he just a playboy? A guy with a fetish for petite, busty redheads that were pale as the driven snow? There aren’t many of us out there. Maybe I just got lucky. Maybe he was a serial killer.

I grabbed the bar of soap and lathered my body, rubbing away the globs of sperm coating me. It was tough. I had never dealt with sperm before, so I wasn’t entirely prepared for how difficult it would be to clean. Eventually I started lightly using my nails to get the more stubborn globs off of me, but it took a lot of elbow grease. I considered using the loofah, but I didn’t want to get it full of cum. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but I didn’t want to make assumptions. A few minutes later the lights dimmed. It was dark, but my eyes still made out shapes and details without much trouble. Mr. Chapman had mood lighting. 

I was grateful for it. Despite being on full display in his living room while we had sex it was a bit of a different scenario cleaning up. I felt more vulnerable, exposed. We had both finished two orgasms each, our libidos were sated and the sparks that were flying between us had extinguished. Now I was just a girl covered in cum in his shower, not the nubile object of his desire from before. He opened the glass door to the shower and stepped in with me.

“Getting all cleaned up?” he asked. The waterfall shower head was so large that both of us could stand under it and stay warm without even being that close to each other. 

“It’s a lot to clean,” I laughed, still scrubbing with my bar of soap.

“I’m a heavy cummer. Sorry about that,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

He bent down, and I’m not ashamed to admit I stared at the contours of his thick butt. Sooo yummy. He grabbed the purple loofah off the floor and held out his other hand, palm up. I looked up into his impossibly blue eyes. There was a kindness there I didn’t expect. Mr. Chapman was basically a stranger to me. A stranger that had just unloaded his massive balls into me twice in less than an hour, but still a stranger. 

I expected him to be eager for me to get out of his hair, so he could go to sleep. His balls were empty, my job was done, what did he need me for? But when he stared down at me I saw a certain contentment in his eyes. A happiness. I handed him the bar of soap and he scrubbed it into the loofah with a sly smirk on his face.

Loofah in hand, he scrubbed and explored my body. He started at my stomach. I had already lathered it thoroughly, but there was still some of his sperm clinging to my pale skin. He used the loofah to scrub the particles away, sliding his other hand over my skin to feel if it were smooth enough for his liking. Once satisfied, he slipped the loofah down the sides of my hips and around to my lower back. He stepped forward, almost touching our bodies together, but not quite. His big hands slid down my lower back and cupped my booty. He gave it a generous squeeze, which made me smile. 

He acted like a teenager, horny and eager to have me with him even after unloading himself into me. Twice. Have I mentioned that yet? He looked down at me with the slightest bit of apprehension in his eyes, like he was keeping watch for signals from me. I placed my hands on his muscular chest and pushed my booty back into his palms, turning my heels out to spread my cheeks for him a little. 

He took that signal as a green light to slide the loofah and his other hand over my thick booty and between my cheeks. I was surprised to feel his fingers slip all the way between them, going so far as to press against my back door. He didn’t apply any pressure, just felt the sensitive flesh. That was new for me. Once he felt it, his lips turned up ever so slightly and he massaged between my cheeks for a moment before kneeling down in front of me. 

His hands slipped around my thighs and he scrubbed them with meticulous care. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched and felt his curious hands. The difference in our skin tones was striking, like the white and black of a chessboard. It made a very distinct line where I ended and he began. I liked it.

The manly smell of his soap wafted up to my nostrils and the steamy heat helped me relax. Or rather it would have if I wasn’t being pampered by a Nubian god. I stood there and let him clean my body. His hands scrubbed my thighs and down my calves before slipping back up. 

His fingers slipped between my legs for a fraction of a second, gliding over my vagina lips and sensitive clit. A shot of electricity sprang through me and I couldn’t help myself from smiling. His fingers started to rub circles around my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me that became all too intense. I lightly pushed his hand away, but smiled up at him. 

“I think I need a break,” I said, hoping he didn’t become offended. 

I felt his hands slide around and cup my booty again as he stood up. They slipped up my back, scrubbing for a moment before they rounded my ribs and came to my breasts. He ran the loofah over each one and scrubbed softly to clean off the last remains of his massive loads. It felt like he was brushing dust off a fossil, with great care and pure amazement. 

Once the sperm was officially off my body, he dropped the loofah but continued to massage my soapy breasts. I felt my nipples perk up under his hands and as soon as they did I saw his cock twitch. He stared down at my chest and chewed on his lower lip. The sensation of his hands slipping over my breasts while covered in thick, foamy lather was new and exciting. The lack of friction felt lovely and even after our previous romp I was getting aroused again. 

Oh, this guy is good. Despite my desire, I didn’t think I could handle another round. I took a deep breath of steamy air and stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting them on his firm butt. Doing so pushed my soapy breasts against him. It was my way to slow his affections, trying to keep our lust in check. 

When I felt my soapy body slide against his, I got an idea. I swayed my shoulders back and forth, rubbing the lather from my body onto his, using my breasts like loofahs to spread the soap. He realized what I was doing and laughed. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said.

“I’m just trying to help clean you off,” I said, trying to sound innocent as I rubbed my breasts over his abs and down his thighs. His dangling cock slipped between my cleavage and I pushed my chest together for his benefit, soaping his shaft in the process. 

“My god, Miss Hailey…” he groaned, rocking his head back and looking up at the ceiling as I stood back up and rinsed off.

“Feel all clean?” I asked, looking into his piercing blue eyes.

“I’m feeling pretty dirty after tonight,” he said with a smirk. 

I felt something bump against my leg. I looked down and saw he was getting hard. Again.

“You must be joking,” I said, looking up at him with a smile.

“I’ll be honest, I’m as surprised as you are,” he said with a fake shrug.

“Uh huh,” I said, looking down at his shaft as it grew.

“It’s your fault. If you weren’t so damn hot maybe he’d behave himself,” he said, sounding guilty.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“I’m telling you, there aren’t that many. I promise.”

“Riiight, dicks too big, you might kill someone?” I said in a tone that was clear I was just ribbing him. 

His thick cock swelled and pointed toward me like it had a mind of its own. Did he really have any more in him? Was there any possibility I could coax another orgasm out of my big, black, Adonis? There was an easy way to find out. I reached down at gripped his shaft, feeling its weight. Good god, it was heavy when he was excited. I used the leftover lather to slide my hand up and down his length.

He thickened further under my grip. I reached down with my other hand and got that one involved too. He was definitely long enough for me to need both hands. I imagined most men weren’t. As he swelled up, I lifted his shaft so it pointed up between us instead of directly at me. Once he realized I was actually going for it, his hands lifted once again to my breasts. 

As a large man, he had big hands, but my natural E cups were still a lot for him to handle. He seemed more than happy to try though. Honestly, it was kind of a relief to have him hold them. They’re so damn heavy when I’m not wearing a bra. My comparatively tiny hands slid up and down his massive black cock. I wondered what the hell I was doing again. 

You don’t know this man, what has gotten into you? I asked myself. HE got into you and pumped you full of some magic sauce. I snorted. 

“What is it?” he asked, his voice breathy and eager.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. He didn’t need to hear my internal monologue. 

He continued kneading and playing with my breasts while I jerked him off. Whatever brand of soap he used was remarkably slippery, and I pushed him out of the waterfall so it didn’t immediately wash the soap away. He leaned his head down and put his forehead to mine. I kept staring down at his humongous shaft as I slid my little hands up and down it, trying to make him cum for the third time that night. 

Both of my hands slid together, one on top of the other, and worked to milk another thick load of cum from this man I barely knew. For a woman with as little experience as I had, I was warming up to dick real fast. Maybe it was something about Mr. Chapman himself that had me so eager to please. 

As my hands bobbed up and down his shaft, and his hands kneaded my breasts, I felt his chest rise and fall in front of me. I looked up at his pecs. They were big and firm in a masculine way. He had small nipples that balanced his pecs out perfectly. I leaned forward and gave one of his dark nipples a lick, and I felt him shiver a little as I did, like the sensation surprised him. 

I flicked my tongue out again for another lick and he moaned. With my hands working together to milk his cock, I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around one of his nipples, sucking it into my mouth and rubbing it with my tongue. He clutched my heavy breasts harder, and I felt his cock harden in my hands. Oh, you like that? I thought.

His breath quickened and his hands stopped kneading my chest altogether. Instead, they pushed my breasts together, creating a valley of cleavage for him to look at. He was getting close. His rock hard cock and breath were more than enough to clue me in to that. I slid one of my hands down to his balls, cupping them and squeezing them gently while my other hand slid up to his throbbing cock head. I curled my fingers around his tip and kept rubbing them over it like I was chalking a pool cue. 

His moans turned to shuddering groans. Short, quick breaths signaled he was about to blow again. I knew how big his loads were and having just got clean, I didn’t want to have to start all over again. I took a step back, just far enough to lean over and wrap my mouth around his cock head. It tasted like soap. Both of my hands kept working him until finally I felt his cock buck in my grip. A warm, thick spurt of cum shot into my mouth. As his third load of the night it was much less, and therefore easier to handle.

Thankfully, it replaced the soapy taste. His cum filled my mouth with a sweet and salty dark chocolate pretzel taste and I loved it. I gulped down spurt after spurt, forming a tight seal around his cock with my mouth by sucking on the tip like he was a massive straw. The flesh of my breasts molded around his fingers as he squeezed them. His grip on my chest was tight, but I could tell he was holding back so he didn’t hurt me.

He let out a few ragged huffs of air. I kept my hands moving, massaging his balls and rubbing his tip with my tongue while his orgasm subsided. Only when he pulled his hips away from me, his head too sensitive for any more of my attention, did I stop pleasuring him. His dick slapped against his thigh as it slipped out of my mouth and I let go of it. I smiled up at him and swallowed the last of his orgasm. 

It was a powerful feeling to be the source of his pleasure. It made me want more, made me yearn to keep his balls empty because of the look he gave me after. A wide, weary smile spread across his face. I licked my lips and pushed a clump of my red hair out of my face with a clean pinky. Seeing his face after swallowing his load washed away my previous fatigue. I wanted him again.

With a delicate grip, I pulled his hand between my legs.

“I thought you were tired?” he asked, already massaging my clit and wrapping his other arm around my slim waist.

“A good meal always gives me a second wind,” I said, suddenly feeling foolish for saying it. He let out another one of his deep, genuine laughs and it put my insecurities at ease. His eyes lit up and he reached for the smaller shower head on the wall connected by a long metal hose. 

“I never get to use this, maybe you can tell me if it was worth the money,” he said, sounding excited. He turned it to a fast-paced massage setting. He held it out for me to take.

“I want you to do it,” I said. I turned around and backed into his arms, letting him wrap them around me while lifting my own up to hold behind his neck.

He lowered the showerhead between my legs and moved it around. I moaned to show my approval but started moving my hips slightly to help find a better spot. He spotted my adjustments and moved the showerhead slowly in different directions and angles. I had never used a showerhead powerful enough to elicit any real pleasure, so this was a very unique sensation for me.

After a moment of exploration, he found a good spot and I moaned to let him know it. Using my hip as a brace, he rested his forearm against me so he could hold the showerhead at that position for longer. My fingers dug into the back of his neck and I closed my eyes to focus on the sensations. Each pulse of the showerhead felt like it was stacking bricks on a proverbial Jenga tower. Pulse by pulse it built up my pleasure and I knew it wouldn’t take long before the bricks came tumbling down into another orgasm. 

His other hand slid up my body to cup my breasts, something he never seemed to get tired of. I leaned back against him, loving how solid and muscular he felt. As the pleasure increased, my hips would periodically move on their own to try and get away from the sensation for a moment of respite. It only took a few of these retreats before my booty was pressed tightly against him and I felt his shaft against me.

With nowhere to go, I was forced to endure the waves of pleasure from both the shower head and his playful groping. I breathed in the steamy air and held the back of his neck, putting my weight on him because my legs were threatening to give out on me. The pulsing shower head tirelessly pleasured me, sending relentless sensations I was unfamiliar with. 

My legs wobbled. I pushed my body back into his and hung from his neck like my life depended on it. My Jenga tower of pleasure was at its tipping point. Heavy pants came from my chest, pushing my breasts into his hands as my orgasm swept over me. My legs buckled. I felt Mr. Chapman’s muscular arm wrap around my chest entirely, holding me up as my hips squirmed against him.

Loud moans escaped my lips and echoed in the confined space. I dug my nails into the back of his neck and clung to him as I rode out the tumultuous waves of pleasure. The shower head kept going, incapable of getting tired, and the feeling became too much. My hands let go of his head and blocked the pulsing water, pushing it away as I collapsed into him and caught my breath.

After a long night of sex and studying, I slept in. My body needed it. Courtney woke up first and was kind enough to make Jasmine and I breakfast. By ‘make breakfast’ I mean she poured Cheerios into three bowls and took the milk out of the fridge. For her, that was an act of selflessness. I was still full from last night’s sexcapades (I swallowed a lot of cum), but I figured some real food would be good for me. 

“You gonna spill the beans yet?” Courtney asked as I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of orange juice. 

“There are no beans to spill,” I said.

“What do you mean? I bet you rocked his world,” Jasmine said.

“Yeah, he’s probably already shopping for a ring,” Courtney joked.

“But seriously, it was your first time. That’s special. Tell us something,” Jasmine said.

Thinking about it made my heart speed up. I took a sip of my orange juice and sat down. This might sound weird, but I felt kind of empty. Not empty like a shell of my former self, but empty as in there wasn’t a forearm’s worth of cock stuffed inside me. I literally felt empty. Like I wanted it to be back in there, filling me once more. Is that normal?

“When was the first time you guys had sex? What was it like?” I asked.

“Not like yours!” Courtney said, grabbing my glass and taking a sip of my juice.

“My first time was with Danny Golan in high school. He got inside and finished in under two minutes, twisting my nips like he was tuning a radio the whole time,” Jasmine said. She looked off into the distance as she recalled the memory. Then she curled her lip and shivered, shaking the memory away.

“Mine was with Jordan Acks. He pounded me like a jackhammer for I don’t even know how long, but couldn’t actually cum because he masturbated too much. He said he couldn’t feel anything with the condom on but I knew for a fact he went through a box Kleenex a week. I told him tough shit and sent him home,” Courtney said.

“Did you enjoy it though? Like, were you excited to do it again?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, it still felt good, but it was not the experience I was expecting. I don’t think I had ‘good’ sex till college. And I certainly didn’t have my mind blown by a rich black guy with a horse cock,” Courtney said.

“I never said he had a horse cock,” I blushed.

“I used my allowance money to buy a vibrator and just took care of myself after Danny was done. After he left, of course,” Jasmine continued as if she weren’t listening. She gazed off again before shaking the memory once more.

Obviously my experience was much different from theirs, but it sounded like the emotions I felt now, the craving for more, was not something they experienced. Why was that? Was I such a sad and lonely person that one taste of dick, no pun intended, was enough to get me hooked? Or was I just some lovesick puppy who craved attention?

“Will you tell us how your first time was now?” Jasmine asked as she put her empty bowl in the sink.

“Maybe another time,” I said.

“Ok, fine, we understand. But you have to at least tell us if it was good,” Jasmine said, looking at me with mischief in her eyes.

Was it good? Well, yeah it was good. It was like discovering the Internet after using outdated books your whole life. It had opened up a part of my mind that I didn’t know I had, made way for a world of possibilities I hadn’t previously considered. Emotions I had never felt came crashing over me like a hurricane and I was still recovering from their aftermath. It was as if his lusty affections were a drug and I was already jonesing for my next fix. To say it was good wasn’t doing it justice. I literally felt like a different person.

“Yeah, I think we had fun,” I said.