Thursday, September 17, 2015




He howled as intense spasms of pleasure shot through his body, noticed with tremors of movement by his taunt cock.   What generally was a more sedentary mass was enlivened by her utterly amazing skill set. 

Previous women sharing the oral challenge would muddle about with someone of his size, be flummoxed as to how to handle his girth, hem-and-haw to the point of ad nauseam, feign effort, gag, choke, tear, eventually, the interaction would become a vista of blunders ending in an unsatisfactory debacle.  Every once and a while, a young James would find his inner lummox and masturbated splashing huge quantities upon the purveyor of his disappointment's face, closing her eyes, filling nostrils and saturating hair.  As an adult he understood the trial that came with his abnormality and found more passive ways to enjoy his orgasms. 

But, Cyndy had captured him in her net of delight pointed out so, when his hips bucked against her mouth as the need to cum built inside him, but now, she only allowed the head past her lips.  He fought to go deep, but she held him at bay, pulling at his nad sack.  Why?  She understood the tease.  Plus, there was the immeasurable love of delaying gratification.  And ultimately, she wanted his ejaculation to be a huge event.  Huge!

Unable to speak beyond the pounding need that thrummed through his body, he could only moan as Cyndy continued to goad his throbbing member with calculated assaults of her tongue, licking first, followed by a thorough ball lathering.  Her ministrations so thorough and consistent, hinting at leaving a series of pocks, not a physical marking but that of his psyche, not in an aberrant way but more of an everlasting memory.  She could tease to the point that he'd break and take her the way he wished.  But James was a patient man and he hopped onto her goat-drawn cart and relished the bumpy dirt path the buck traveled.

Certainly, he wanted to shove his cock into her mouth, as deep as she had taken it, why, no one had done that before and it was eons of dreaming beyond stellar.  Once that deep he anticipated his cum in a hot, endless rush, deluging right into her stomach.  Could he drown her?  Maybe.  She'd let him know when to withdrawal. 

James felt that event would be otherworldly and he coveted the prospect.  The internet was filled with the accolades of women who claimed that they could, but the general dating life of a small town man never knew that reality, it being a crapshoot of those who claimed a proclivity, yet having none.  Bragging was the barbed-wire fence that cuts, yet, does not disturb the view of the truth. "Meh," slipped.  This had nothing to do with being a detractor, and everything to do with the simple truth.  Not even a single manila file folder's worth of possibilities could be filed away in his mind.  Cyndy proved herself a maven at the subtle craft of deep-throat. 

It was difficult to resolve that having a huge cock was a liability.  Men envied him, women claimed they covet such and society brought the pedestal on which he was to perch.  Unsolicited advice was the junk mail pop-ups.  But the real truth was it hurt women, was difficult to manage in tight or loose pants, and whereas, the most sensitive part of the penis was near the base, he had many unsatisfactory sexual encounters.   The beauty of a glorious future was reveled because Cyndy was the first that offered the unique possibility of pleasure and ironically, he was captivated by her. 

His ride on the slow boat to China was deep-throat free.  But this night, this very moment he had arrived at the epicenter of nirvana.  Cyndy never extolled her talent,  stalwart ability that was for his betterment, and a world, his world, filled with oral acrimoniousness was instantly altered.  So at that very moment he did not want to be the nail, but instead wanted to be the hammer, thus, he tried to force a result, down her throat.  There was the rainbow, the pot of gold, but this rainbow also had the color black. She held him back.

Everyone's life was the challenge of writing your final draft without an eraser.  Who had made the mistake?   

Her preternatural oral gift was alluring and haunting, but Cyndy's asking him to think a second resonated with James, getting the humbling gist that he was being selfish.  This was their first time, not just his.  He knew that their future together would offer many chances for him to explore the powerful deep-throat skill she had.  He envisioned a lifetime full of such memories, enough to fill a rosy-tinted file cabinet with thick, precisely placed multicolored folders. 

He felt like an octopus trying to pedal a bicycle, awkward.  They were to be paramours, having a single soul dwelling in two bodies.  Reigning in their united world with accord.  Now, though, he had to share a sense of love with her.  That was the true linchpin, love.  She was not to please him but they were to please each other.  His succinct understanding imbued him with such glowing certainty of her needs, it caused him to want to crow.  It was interrupted by her next move.  Might this be an internecine act?  James could not imagine anything at this watershed moment being destructive to either he or her.  But..., the fire of iffy glowingly hung like a whipping hooked fish with a fragile mouth.

Lovers were the sheltering tree that cuddled, reconsidering his array of gestures to slither his cock by her lips.  Cyndy's empathy for his sexual equivalent of fast food, providing the illusion of love making without the expense of fully participating.  She got it.  Always got it.  Men liked what she could do with her mouth.  A pretty face was a passport, but oral talents had no expirations dates.  And she was happy to be the salt on his food.  She'd cocksuck for her man.  And she had a plethora of playful taunts to use before allowing the final blow by blow by blow to spent itself.  

Their sex was like his shadow, if he followed, it fled and if he walked away it followed.  It simply wasn't the right time to ravage her face.  He had to stop her, but he couldn't force another objection past his lips.  The oil of refined politeness complicated the mechanisms of propitious judgment, no, he was not weak, just a man lead by his libidinous urges.  

He felt paralyzed especially when she abruptly took the rest of his thickness into her mouth, pressing and rocking against his erection, swallowing, gagging, pressing until he was down her throat, until her tongue slipped out and touched that sensitive spot at the back of his balls.  He gasped as she sucked deep.  His cock contracted and more pre-cum leaked down her throat.

Cyndy was like a trick of sleight of hand, that to be admired, but not requiring understanding.  She was his dark forest, enchanting but worrisome.  She scuttled his quest of balanced love.  Granted the common belief in the sex wars, men were thoughtlessness, while women the epitome of vindictiveness.   Was she being the vixen, thwarting his compassion?   Those thoughts were deluged into storm drains, rushed away, as she did things to his cock he thought were impossible.  

The quarrel between new lovers, even if contrived, added to that bond, as if the callosity formed about a broken bone, making it stronger.   James wanted her to stop, yet, not yet.  Her devotion to excellence was applaudable, and he was giving her a standing O, or was she?

As if she sensed he was very near to falling over the edge into bliss, she grabbed his ass, fingers digging as she pulled him into her mouth even further.  His head banged against the wall.  With an obligatory response, he drove his cock into her like a jack-hammer, setting off shattering moans.  The chaos were loud cannon booms, witnessed in his mind, echoing desires to have it last a great deal longer.  Could he throat fuck her?  Yes.  Should he?  Great question.

Questioning lessened minor passion and enhanced the great ones, so, as the spring winds doused the candles and kindled a fire, he wanted her more.  Life without Cyndy would be death without a witness.  Painfully lonely. 

His physical reactions made her feel like a Queen to his Pawn, while his vocalizations were harmonious music to her impressions.  While playing the mouth organ, he became her finely tuned instrument, and if she tongued him just right, he made the most glorious sounds, raw, intense, absolutely melodious noises of pleasure as she played him with her mouth, lips, and tongue.  The collateral consequences promised little discord, but the sort of chaos that was tantamount to perfection.  Soon, he'd experience the greatest of pleasures and she would be the one that was responsible for that orgasmic contentment. 

Did she sense his turmoil?  No.  How could she interpret gushes of uninhibited bliss and unrestrained hip lunges as tumult?

In every man's being was that secret nerve that responded to the vibrations of lust.  The litmus test for a primal beast was the flash to action.  James knew the raw creature stalked his thoughts, but never witnessed its ballyhoo.  Cyndy was the right person to free his fucking-fiend.  

He wrenched his hands from hers, brusquely grabbed her hair, yanked and pulled her, ragdollying her head, rowdily fucking her mouth.  His aching member ferociously jettisoned itself down her throat, ignoring her gag reflex as the root smacked her lips wrathfully and balls bounced onto her chin.  Then his cock nearly accomplished a full exit, granting her a breath, before ramming her again, punctuated by her spasming throat muscles.  (to be continued)

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