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EXTREME SIZE WARNING: I’m proud of a lot this story. The dialogue was fun, I think the sex straddles the line between realistic and nuts pretty well (is magical unrealism a thing?) but there’s no denying that the sizes of characters involved is simply ridiculous. I realize that may not seem like a departure, but it’s the first time I feel the massiveness in question really clashes with the otherwise more real feel to the story. Still, I hope you all enjoy, and I hope you’ll consider dropping me a line at the contact info available in my profile page here to let me know how it worked or didn’t work for you.
I used to think being the top-selling Size-Queen erotica writer was something I’d love. In my head as I was writing, I’d always fantasize hung studs reading my work, getting turned on by it, and seeking me out for some extra-big-dick kind of action. And sure, over the years, I did have a “kind-of” big guy or two get in touch with me. Some nice dicks upwards of seven or eight inches long that thought they could please a size queen like me, but it was always kind of disappointing. I was never one to settle for “kinda big” and though it has made me a lonely woman to be so discriminating in my love for huge cock, I’ve stuck to my guns on the matter.
I never thought I’d find a true white whale; a monster-member that could disrupt the whole porno industry or topple countries for all its majesty and splendor. There were plenty of false ones of course. Guys who would send me photo-shopped pictures or boastful claims about their foot-long cunt-crushers or what-have-you, but I could spot a fake a mile away and rarely made it to undressing any of the braggarts. The few I did let talk me out of my bra were only packing average at best, and I’d let them know just how inadequate I found them.
Then one day, something very different happened. I was doing a reading of my latest book in Chicago, dead exhausted from the tight schedule my publisher was keeping me on during the promotional tour, and would have been happier to just pack it all in and sleep in my hotel room. Instead, I got up in front of a few dozen men, and did my best reading, giving them parts that were a lot of tease without much fruition. As usual, I saw most pants in the room tenting up with erections caused by my silly prose and sultry voice. I’ve always been a very avid crotch-watcher, and it’s nice to be able to appreciate the results of what I do.
At the end, just about everybody lined up to buy a copy or get the one they already had signed by yours truly. I did my best to put on a happy face and banter with the guys as they came through one by one, and to this day I could not tell you two words I said to almost any of them.
Until the last guy in line.
He was around my age, not notably tall or short, with light hair and a thickly built frame with broad shoulders. When he slid his book my way, I don’t think I even looked up at him as I asked, “Who would you like me to make it out to?”
He seemed nervous, but cleared his throat and said, “Make it out to ‘my biggest fan’.”
I arched an eyebrow, “Well that’s a bold claim!” I said, “A lot of guys really like my work, you know.”
“Not as much as me,” he said. Then, after an awkward pause added, “Or as big.”
I paused mid-scribble, “Oh come on, you think I don’t hear that a dozen times a reading?”
I expected him to shrink from my words, but he just shrugged casually, “I mean, if you’re interested I can prove it.”
I folded my arms beneath my tits, letting the gesture really showcase my G-cups. “Let me guess… you’ve got a picture on your phone for me? Some trumped-up photoshop job that you probably didn’t even do yourself?”
I get these all the time. I know guys want to fit the profile of the fantasy I write about… but at the end of the day, it is just fantasy.
He shook his head, “I meant in person… but Veronica, it’s fine. I love your writing and I don’t mean to pressure you. I’ve got the biggest one I’ve ever seen, but from your work I assume you see bigger all the time.”
That made me stop and think a moment. Most of the braggarts, even the big ones, didn’t make such bold claims with such humility. There was a vibe I was getting here that seemed at once honest and reserved, the kind of sense I’d get from somebody like me who was well-endowed but had learned not to brag or rub it in other people’s faces too much. I’d been quite the mean-girl in high school when I blossomed early and it took a few years of being an asshole teenager to grow out of it and hide my bra-breaking light under a bushel, so to speak. Christ what a terrible mixed metaphor!
By the time I’d snapped out of this little train of thought my fan was already halfway to the door, and I stood, calling after him.
“Hey, wait up. You’ve got me curious enough to uh… check this out. Do you have a place? Or were you just planning to serial-kill me in your windowless van out front?”
He turned, laughing a bit at my dark joke, “Now see, that’s why I love your writing, the great sense of humor.”
“By sense of humor you mean my huge jiggling illegal bahis tits, right?” I shot back, getting my stuff together to leave.
“Oh, most definitely,” he fired back, offering me his arm like a true gentleman.
“Holy fucking shit!” I gasped when he opened the door into his penthouse suite.
It wasn’t the last time I was going to be saying that tonight, but in this case it was specifically because of the incredible view, the incredibly spacious room, not to mention the incredibly well-stocked bar. He saw what I was ogling and moved around me to stand behind it. He smirked as though this wasn’t going to be the last time I said those words tonight, and damned if he wasn’t right about that. He made a sweeping arm-gesture, indicating the bar,
“What’s your poison?” he asked.
“Mama drinks whiskey.” I answered.
He judiciously measured out a pour from a bottle I’d never seen in person, then splashed extra in like the measure didn’t matter. I took the glass thankfully and inspected the label, nearly peeing myself when I realized what this was.
“Glenfiddich 50 year?” I squeaked in disbelief.
“Yup. I’d been saving it for a special occasion, I think getting my favorite writer over counts, doesn’t it?”
“I… hon, you could buy the services of like an army of super-hot prostitutes for what a bottle of this costs. I might not even be here to do anything.”
“I know. And that’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you into sex with expensive booze.”
I took a sip of the burning liquid; the density of different flavors was a thing of insanity in my mouth for a moment. “Delicious, but I don’t think my tongue is good enough for this,” I pouted.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said slyly, “I’m sure your tongue is utterly amazing.”
I took another sip before answering, “Well maybe you’ll get to find out. Let’s see this schlong, hot-shot.”
He grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”
The boy unzipped and flopped out right then and there, and I do mean FLAWWWWPED, because it took a second to get it all out. Not only did I have to admire the monstrous member he had just revealed, I had to admire his restraint; he could pull a piece like that out in public and he’d be more likely to attract the attention of journalists over the police.
“Holy fucking shit!” I gasped, greedily gulping down the rest of the scotch to brace myself. I couldn’t believe what was coming over me. For years fans had sent me pictures of the biggest porn stars, and in many cases pictures of themselves all photoshopped to look insanely huge, but Daniel was bigger than most of those fantasized images. For the first time ever, I was actually a little bit afraid of a cock!
“I…I wow.” I said, eloquently. I thought a few long moments, trying to somehow pry my eyes off this dangling flesh firehose, “Why on earth don’t you get rich using this thing?” I finally asked.
He blinked and gestured to the luxurious surroundings, “I uh, kinda already have.” He said.
“Your dick paid for all this? How have I never heard of you!” I gawped. The humongous member swung around a little as he spoke, it was dangerous-looking, like a massive boa-constrictor that would cuckold other boa constrictor’s wives.
“Well not directly. I’m in business. When you’re making a deal or trying to project confidence, nothing helps more than knowing you’re more man than the other guys in the room. I mean, I think that’s all bullshit, but other dudes get a hint of what I’m packing and they tend to sputter out pretty bad and just take whatever I’m proposing. At least the ones who don’t try to get me to fuck their wives.”
He shuddered. Daniel was an interesting guy; all the equipment he’d need to make cuckold-fetishists sing his praises but he clearly didn’t have an interest.
Then again, I knew what it was like to have nature stick a big old pair of G cups on you, and that didn’t make me interested in guys with breast obsession.
Speaking of pairs, nature hadn’t skimped Daniel in that department either! Dangling below his insane cock in a sack that looked positively tired with all the weight it was carrying were a pair of nuts the size of my fists. I put down the glass of scotch, grabbed the bottle’s neck and took down with me to the floor, ending up on my knees in front of him. He looked shocked to say the least.
“Veronica, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Oh, you know…” I said, dreamily, “Marveling.”
I looked up at him, craning my head so that I could look around his monstrous flesh-beast to actually make eye-contact, “And I’d really like to upgrade from marveling to fondling or stroking…”
He gave a little, trembling shudder. He’d clearly been dreaming of this moment for a very long time.
“Veronica,” he began, “You have my permission to do anything you want. You could break that bottle and stab me with it and I’d still just feel honored.”
I took a swig, then cradled his cock in my palm, the weight of the damned thing impressive even with it dead soft, the head going all the way to my elbow while I held the base. I shook my head and carefully illegal bahis siteleri pressed the bottle of scotch to it; he was longer by a few inches. The thing had to be at least a foot long. I took a bigger swig.
“I never thought they could come big enough to scare me!” I said, honestly. “At least tell me you’re not much of a grower.”
“I could tell you that, but I’d be lying,” he answered with a shrug.
I shook my head, then carefully dribbled scotch onto the topside of his root, angling his cock down so the drip ran down towards his head. Before it could reach the end I licked, chasing the trail of burning liquid all the way up to where his shaft met his body; I noted that he’d shaved or waxed himself quite recently. The clever boy had clearly anticipated that he might end up here.
He moaned as I licked, his voice almost cracking, “Oh, Veronica!”
“Oh, Dan!” I echoed back, using my lips to nibble around to the underside of his shaft, giving a long lick back to the tip. Now I held his humongous cock in both hands, feeding myself that flared crown, tongue-swatting all over its flushed surface with slobbery, passionate licks. I ate my way down one side of his cock and up the other; the trip was getting a little longer each time, he was getting harder for sure. Now I reached around, palming the backs of his balls, gently shoving them forward and massaging at them as I returned to nibble the head again.
When I sank him inside, stretching my jaws pretty damned wide to accomplish the miracle, he groaned helplessly, his knees buckling just a little as he grabbed the edge of the bar to keep himself upright. I slowly moved, taking him in about six inches; I already felt pretty proud of myself taking such a monster the depth of a normal man, but my jaw ached already. I’d written literally hundreds of times about sucking cocks of this magnitude, yet the reality of it was a lot more taxing than I’d properly appreciated!
I angled up a little and forced my head down, choking horribly on the girth of him, a hand going to my throat where my fingers could literally feel the bulge he was making inside of me. I strangled myself a little, moving my hands up and down my neck, literally jerking the semi-hard cock off through my body, making a few awful retching noises as I worked.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he sagely warned me, his voice still cracking with pleasure.
I pulled back with a rasp and a cough, giving his prick-head big smooches between gasps for breath.
“What if I want to?” I asked, licking back down his member to finally attack the preposterous balls with my tongue, lewdly tongue-slapping and lip-nibbling all over his leathery nut-sack.
He almost buckled again as I got work on those balls, showing them the love I had famously showed so many like them in print. They were so big I felt like I was losing a fight to them, unable to properly capture one in my mouth easily, and with his little motions of pleasure they swung wildly, battering my face with their potent weight between my worshipful sucks and licks.
“Oh yeah, suck my big balls,” he commanded, growling a little bass into his voice that made me suddenly aware of how wet I was getting. I don’t know why I love hearing that kind of thing so much, but it’s always done it for me. He seemed to sense my excited response and piled on a little more, “Yeah, get those big fat fucking balls in your mouth. You know you love it, sucking a real man’s nuts for a change. Show me!”
“Oh fuck yes, I love these huge fuckin’ nuts!” I shot back before awkwardly cramming one all the way into my mouth. He winced a little and I suspect the tight compression might have hurt him slightly, but he didn’t complain, his head rolling back in weak delight as I moved onto the other nut. Sucking both at once was out of the question, so I showed them all the best individual love I could, leaving each a sopping mess of lustful drool.
When I’d given both the best mouth-bath I could, I switched to his sack, carefully running every inch of the loose skin through my tightly-pressed lips, like I was inspecting for quality or something. I even flickered my tongue down his taint and teased at his ass-crack, trying to read if he wanted a full tossed salad course with the rest of this entre.
He sucked in a breath sharply, “Oh god, Veronica, I want that, I do… but I’m not ready for it yet. I can barely get it through my head that my favorite author is blowing me!”
I kissed my way back up his taint, balls, and shaft, finally stopping at the head, speaking into it like a microphone after I’d given it a big slurpy kiss too, “That’s fine, hon. Whenever you want it I’m there!”
I grabbed his cock by the base and swung it around a little, testing the rigidity, even slapping it against my tits a few times experimentally, loving the way it made them swing and jiggle.
“All right, stud, I can’t take the suspense anymore. How fucking big is this beast? It’s gotta be almost three fucking feet long!” I hit my tits even harder, coming from the sides now so they’d really swing around from the impact, amazed at just how much canlı bahis siteleri heft this incredible beast had.
He groaned as I cockspanked my boobs, but shook his head, “Oh no ma’am, I’m not *that* big.”
I growly, putting my teeth to his cockhead, threatening to bite; not that I would but I suspected he was hard enough to take it, “Okay, but how big ARE you?”
He flushed, speaking quietly almost like he was ashamed of it. “My cock is thirty-two inches long.”
“WHAT!?” I shouted.
He took a deep breath, speaking at a more regular volume now, “My dick is exactly two feet and eight inches long.”
My head boggled; I’d been joking about the three feet part, but the fucker was only four inches shy of a yard! Suddenly a lot clicked into place for me.
“That’s why you had to come meet me in person, isn’t it?” I guessed.
He nodded, “Well, yeah. Be honest, if I sent you an e-mail that said I was this big you’d never have believed me, right?”
He was right, in fact even with pictures or video I’d have only assumed there was manipulation going on. Did this explain why I didn’t have any truly huge fans come to me before now? It made sense.
I looked up at him, half-joking, half-serious, “Hey donkey-dick, listen up. I’m gonna make a fucking example of you.”
He looked worried, but I had his undivided attention, “An example how?” He asked, trembling a little.
“I’m gonna drain your big fat balls so fucking good that you’ll shout about it from the roof-tops. I want all your horse-hung fucking friends who are hiding to know that if they come to me they won’t regret a fucking second of it. Is that clear?”
“I don’t have any—OH FUCK!” whatever he was going to say to finish that sentence never made it out, I’d plunged my face down his cock, stuffing him between my lips, through my mouth, and deep, deep into my throat before he could say another word.
FUCK he was thick! I’d been sort of ready for the length, but the girth of the monster was even more challenging the second time around. I’d swallowed some pretty big things in my day but never with this combination of fatness, it was testing the capacity of my esophagus in a way I didn’t think possible.
“CAREFUL!” he begged, again so concerned for my safety. I gave him the finger and then rubbed my hands in the slobber that was spilling from my lips, taking that hot mess and rubbing it all over his already slobbery nuts, stroking both hands up the parts of his cock I hadn’t taken yet, jacking him off gently, not wanting him to unload but hoping the rest of his cock could forgive me if I couldn’t get the rest of it.
I bobbed my head on him for a long while as I twist-jacked him with both hands. This was no longer merely about pleasuring him, I wanted to put my money where my mouth had been all these years, to be the best huge-cock worshipper he’d ever had. I challenged myself, trying to take just a little more of him every dozen bounces of my head or so. It was slow going, each time a new part of his fat girth gaped my a new part of my throat my whole body seized and recoiled, seeming to be in disbelief over what I was trying to do.
I ignored my body, and instead paid his cock all the attention I could, making sure to let the slobber I was coughing out help to lubricate his enormousness, my hands playing in the filth I was making of him. I discovered that I seemed to have some hard limit; I’m not sure if was because it was the fattest part of his cock, or if it was simply hitting a bend in my body it couldn’t get through, but with half of his gigantic gash-grinder inside my esophagus, my reactions got too violent and sharp to ignore.
I blasted back, reflexive tears rolling down my cheeks, a giant wad of slobber rocketing onto the head of his cock, my stomach threatening to recoil as the flange of his glans raked my gag reflex at high speed before bursting free of my mouth. I coughed, I gasped for breath, I belched and blushed, shaking my head in disbelief at the sheer size of him.
“All right, you win,” I was saying it more to his cock than him. “Dan, you’re too much man for the Empress of size. How does that make you feel?”
He could barely hear me in the world of pleasure I’d put him in, “I’m sorry,” he managed weakly.
“Are you really sorry?” I asked, casually jerking off the parts of his cock I’d just been sucking, amazed I’d been able to manage sixteen inches of this beast, “or did you mean to say that I’ve just inflated your ego to proportions as unrealistic as your cock and made your balls feel big?”
Something about my taunting brought out a more dominant side to him, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and growled, “They feel dry. Fix it,” shoving my face right into his nutsack. He was a liar of course, they were already dripping with the mess I’d been hacking out, but I went along with his humble request, licking and lapping away at the pendulous pair before sucking each, rolling them around in my mouth one at a time. When he made a whimper of delight and threw his head back in ecstasy again I pulled back, cupping the huge pair a moment as I licked my way back up his head. I plunged down again, taking the sixteen inches I could before hitting that limit again, lurching back a second time. It was easier, I thought with practice I still might somehow be able to take more of him, but it would take a LOT of time.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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