Hey, hey, hey!
Still here? To be honest, I wasn't sure you would be. People probably think I'm a bit much to take all in one go. It's true. I can be a total motormouth most of the time but that's just my way of hiding how nervous I get around others. The same goes for the cussing. I swear for a reason. Men are always coming on to me and I've discovered the best way to put them off is to use the language as a kind of weapon. Works every time. But it's not really who I am inside so don't judge me by the way I express myself in certain situations.
Seriously, I'm a really nice girl at heart.
All this was Babette's idea. Typing it down. Baring my soul as it were. Which is all well and good if you think you know how things are going to go. But what happens if they don't? What if your comfortable successful life is about to take a major detour and there is nothing you can do about it?
That is the scariest thing of all. The one thing that frightens me the most.
The unknown future.
Oh, and by the way, this is a love story. Honest.
Medusa. XXX
***
Big Fat Sam was a big fat man. Late thirties but looked older. Short back and sides with a matching Chaplineque moustache and chubby face with rosy cheeks. And he was one hairy motherfucker as he removed his shirt and started on his pants. Down they came followed by his XXL blue boxers leaving me with a ringside seat of his bare ass which needed widescreen to do it justice.
Jesus H. Christ. He was going to squish me like a bug.
Then he turned sheepishly around and I nearly fell off the bed in shock. Between his meaty thighs hung a thing that was not so much a cock but a baseball bat.
"Is that yours?" I blurted out like an idiot.
He should be in a fucking circus. Women would pay top dollar and line up to see something like that. I'd seen some big wangs in my time but his took the prize. Tarzan could swing from this fucker and even Mary Poppins would think twice.
Fat Sam was as bashful as they came. A really swell Oliver Hardy type kind of guy. The sort that would do anything for anybody. He was the quiet one who sat at the back in meetings, laughed at everyone's jokes even if they were about him and pretty much tried to avoid the company assholes in the department where he worked and people around him in general.
Hand on cold heart, I kind of felt sorry for him and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull when I asked him if he wanted to go for a drink after work. Fuck knows what the guys in his department thought. Not that I gave a shit about them. I liked Big Fat Sam and wanted to show him that someone somewhere cared enough about him to matter.
And I liked him even more after getting to know him after a few drinks. So much so we ended up back at his place and about to jump in the sack. Or at least that was the intention. Let's just say I got naked real quick as I stared at his penis and fell at his feet to have a closer look. Holy cow. We are definitely not fucking worthy.
"It doesn't really get hard," he said suddenly, looking down at me. "Even when I, uh, you know, masturbate."
I swear I blushed. He was right. It didn't get hard but kind of flopped around as I played with it with him standing there chewing on his knuckles. Easy there, partner. Don't sink before you can swim. Getting to my feet, I stood there trying to figure out the best way to do this.
"Alright, Sam," I said, looking up at him. He was staring at my tits like a kid on Christmas morning. "Samuel."
His head jerked up. "Huh, yeah. Oh."
"Listen to me," I told him. "I'm going to lie on my back and I want you to get between my legs and stick that thing in me, okay?" This was going to be like reverse parking a nuclear fucking submarine. "Don't get on me. Just take your weight on your hands. And if I tell you to stop, you fucking stop. Got that?"
Sam nodded like an eager puppy.
Bouncing back onto the bed, I lay back and spread my legs as wide as they would go and watched as my latest lover came closer with his jello elephant dick swaying back and forth hypnotically. Oh fuck. This is going to hurt. My poor pussy.
Once in place, I reached down and grabbed his cock. The head was cut and looked kind of gnarly as it leaked lube and I pushed it down so that it pressed between the lips of my sex. Rubbing it up and down my slot a few times to spread the juice, I began to force it in as best I could as Sam grunted and mumbled over me.
My ass was wriggling around like it was sat on a hot plate as I winced in pain trying to get the head inside of me. After a couple of minutes, I was greased up enough for the purple pussy destroyer to pop beyond my vaginal ring. "FUCK!!" I yelped as it pushed a couple of inches deeper and I had to grab my legs to stop them twitching.
Sam was drooling. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy," he kept muttering as I impaled myself on his immense pole. "Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy, Miss Peterson!"
The more he penetrated me, the more he suffocated me as he lowered himself between my spread thighs until I couldn't see a damned thing below my jiggling boobs. Under a mountain of blubber, somewhere deep inside me, his immense dong was slithering up my carnal passage.
"Samuel, Samuel, for Chrissakes," I gasped as his penile battering ram hit a brick wall. Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Alright, that was most definitely enough. There was absolutely no way he was getting any more of his prick inside of me. I was bursting at the seams and I could even feel my asshole stretching in sympathy. "Stop, stop, stop, STOP!"
The big oaf looked down at me cross-eyed with a face contorted like Goofy on crack. I reached up with both hands and grabbed his ears. "ENOUGH!" I warned him as he mumbled something to himself. "Pull it a little bit back out and push it a little bit back in, okay?"
"Ug ug," he nodded and did as he was told.
Oh. Oh, holy guacamole. It felt like I was being turned inside out as he withdrew and I squealed like a stuck pig when he pushed back in. Never have I felt so thoroughly skewered and fucked. I had no idea how the bed was still in one piece as Sam got into some sort of rhythm and began rocking his hips back and forth letting out the odd fart which had me howling and yelping at the same time.
I could barely move as I grasped his shoulders and clung on for dear life. This was a shag and a half and I knew my big fat lover was about to blow, what I anticipated to be, a big fat load.
And I wasn't wrong.
"OOO, Miss Peterson," he gasped. "I dunno but I think I'm about to.."
It's a scientifically proven fact that ninety-five point six percent of women don't feel it when a man ejaculates inside of them. Other than the BAM BAM BAM sudden rabbit kick, you wouldn't know that he'd cum at all. At most, you might get a tingling inside like someone is tickling your ovaries but that's about it.
Not so with Big Fat Sam.
It was like someone had turned on a firehose and let rip. There was a hot whoosh that flooded my whole sex like I'd sat my ass on a hot water bottle. And I swear, this lasted a good thirty seconds before it began to fade.
Five minutes later, Samuel finally rolled off me and lay gasping on the bed as I sat up and stared at my distended and well-fucked pussy. From the orifice, a thick stream of white spunk seeped and oozed out onto the duvet. Wow. Holy shit. Look at that!
The amount of stuff he shot inside of me was insane. Talk about being a complete cock socket and spunk bucket. I turned to my lover and saw that he was fast asleep which was kind of endearing in its way. Hell, I was so tired I could barely stay awake myse...
***BEEP BEEP BEEP***
Huh? The heck? Oh. Dang. Grabbing the alarm clock, I rolled over and shoved it under the pillow. The dream of Fat Sam faded away as I lay there blinking in the early morning sunlight that flooded my bedroom.
Yawning, I got out of bed and hauled my bare ass to the bathroom and as I sat there taking a pee, grim reality began to set in. It was the morning after the day before. The day Clark Kent had walked into my life and saw me getting reamed by a little old French lady in my office bathroom.
So what do I do?
Find him and explain what happened or spend the rest of my working life hiding up my asshole? Tough call. Fuck knows how Babette is dealing with this. She practically ran for the hills in embarrassment. Well, don't blame me. She knew what she was getting into when she jumped aboard my perverted little rollercoaster.
Nope. Just act normal as if nothing happened and if we bumped into each other I'll just play it by ear and if he gives me any grief, well, he can take a running jump.
Looking up, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Fuck me, I look hot. All that messed up hair, dark eyes, pert nose, and full red lips. Wanton. Sexy. Intensely fuckable. No wonder I could stop a conversation when I walk into a room.
I stood up and admired my body. Yeah. I've definitely got it where it counts. Perfect tits. Peach like pussy. Decent but firm ass. You know what? I'm a fucking prize. The man who gets me is going to think he's died and gone to heaven.