I like to Fuck. There I said it.
I have an affinity for sex and love making too. But fucking will ALWAYS be my first love.
I used to choose my partners based on whether or not I thought they'd be able to fuck me right. Not could they work their hips and lay down the daddy long stroke, but could they drag me to that place where I'm at my sluttiest and subsequently my most comfortable. I wanted to be fucked by a porn star without fucking a porn star. When I mastered the average size dick, as you can imagine I just believed that natural progression would lead me onto the next BIG thing (see what I did there). I was looking forward to a rock hard dick that was almost a foot long rearranging my internal setup. So I did what any self-respecting sexual deviant would do and found me a nice tall man with a nice big dick who was looking for a woman who was up to the challenge. He picked me up and drove me to a hotel. I dressed for the occasion in a coat and heels and nothing else. I was there with purpose and I hadn't even decided if I was gonna stay the night yet. He started with some small talk…how my day was (blah blah blah). I took off my coat and told him I was waiting for my day to get started. He made me keep the heels on…I stand about 5'6" but most of that is legs so wouldn't you know my legs are a long path to a deep place when they're sitting atop some heels. He walked toward me, staring at me in the eyes while he unbuckled his pants. He dropped his pants and revealed to me Xcalibur.
I stooped down in my heels, admiring every inch of his butterscotch frame on my way down. I looked at the challenge in front of me and let my carnal side take over. My mind reminded me that his length was well complimented by his girth and despite my ability to run my mouth earning me the label of 'Big Mouth', I had never in fact opened my mouth that big. I started with my tongue. I needed to explore this environment and my tongue was the most prolific feeler I had. It sent messages to my body that prepared us for the beast. I licked him base to tip and it was a loooong trail. I traced my fingers around his balls and when I cupped them I massaged his perineum. He jumped a little and I wasn't sure if it was because it was the first time anyone had ever touched him like that or if it was because he was surprised I knew that he would like that. His moan was guttural and manly and it made me ready. I licked my lips, and slid his head into my mouth. I was filled almost immediately and I knew this was going to require work on my part. I took him out of my mouth and stuck out my tongue to make room in there (don't judge me, it made sense to me). I was winning and not winning all at the same time. I needed to be a little more comfortable than perched atop 6" heels doing my best Roxy Reynolds impression. I stood up slowly and lead him backwards into the chair in the corner. He sat down and watched me for a moment. He took in every inch of my body with his eyes and the more he looked the more I wanted to show. I turned around on silent command and bent over. There I was, naked and ready. I looked at him mischievously through my legs upside down and asked him if he saw anything he liked. "Come here and let Daddy sample it"…I had never been so wet.
I dropped to my knees and crawled towards him and took my second taste. The pre-cum had never tasted so good. He had lit a fire in me that I didn't know was there and I attacked his dick with a voracity unlike any either of us had ever seen. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the challenge; but I opened my mouth wider than it had ever been and played the sheath to his sword. I had a brief moment of concern when I considered what would happen if his dick got lodged in my throat. I surmised that I'd suffocate happily. Having conquered the entry of the beast I was now focused on turning him steel hard. I was certain he'd probably fuck me in half and I was certain that was exactly what I wanted. I slobbed and bobbed for what seemed like an eternity. I had recently perfected my twist and shout method and he was getting my best work. He was hard enough to sit on but not the hard that I was used to and I wasn't prepared to stop until I achieved greatness. After all, in my mind my ego was very much in control. I could continue to give you the sordid details about him not being able to bear it any longer and throwing me on the bed. Demanding I stare him deep in the eyes while he applied the right amount of lube to Xcalibur. I could tell you how he penetrated without warning or hesitation and pulled my hair while he whispered in my ear that I was gonna beg for mercy. I could also mention that he bent me over and fucked me with obvious surprise as I took the backshot like a champ. We could probably discuss how I came all over his dick and when he pulled it out it was an obvious mixture of Astroglide and Vanity Glide and he pulled my head back hair first and let me taste this mixture we had created. I could also end the conversation by noting that watching my face glisten with the aftermath of my orgasm brought him to his peak and he slapped my mouth shut and gave me the kind of facial you won't find on the menu at your local spa.
Overall, it was a good night. I couldn't figure out though why he wasn't harder than a lead pipe. I worried that it was me and I got so lost in my thoughts that I actually appeared to be staying the night. He cuddled up behind me and asked me if I was alright. I hadn't noticed at the time that I was so sore one may argue I actually gave birth to my orgasm. I asked him if he was satisfied and he scoffed. He said that it was the best fuck he'd ever had and then asked if it offended me that that was what he called it. (Note to self: gotta give people a chance to actually get to know me). I asked him why he wasn't harder and that was one of my first lessons. He let me know that it wasn't me. The size of his dick (I'm telling you this dude packs a mini cooper) made it difficult for him to get as hard as smaller men. In hindsight, it makes sense scientifically. The amount of blood he needed to get his dick as hard as I wanted it to be would basically render him dead in every other area of his body. He blah blah blah went on some more about neurotransmitters and blood flow (the truth is I stopped listening when he said it wasn't me).
So let's talk.
The bigger they are the harder they're not?
I don't think I've gotten a clear answer on this one so gimme a hand job here. Any truth to this?