Larger than Life
It was incredible. It was unbelievable. It was the hugest cock she’d ever seen — and not to brag or anything, but she’d seen a lot of cocks. This one was not just the biggest, but it was beautiful too; thick, rich and heavy. It lay against Brian’s tight abs reaching his belly button with its length, and the girth — it was the size of her fucking wrist.
Paige nearly gasped in amazement — but it wasn’t in her nature to show men how she worshipped them… not them, exactly, but their cocks. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d overwhelmed her with it.
She was the one who had unzipped Brian’s jeans as her lips absorbed themselves with his, her tongue pressed to his, her eyes squeezed shut with the warmth of his mouth, his body, his hands streaming across her skin, beneath her shirt, running up and down her spine.
She unzipped him without opening her eyes, one handed, as her other hand pulled him, mid-back, close to her own body. She dug her nails into that beautiful flesh like a cat, exposing and then retracting her claws. She wasn’t trying to leave a mark and she did her best to hold back, but she was good at a lot of things — and restraint wasn’t one of them.
As his fly finally opened to her eager fingers, she ran her hand along the hard muscles of his abs, sliding along the band of his bright blue underwear, which contrasted delightfully against his smooth, dark skin. He moaned and rose to meet her hand, his body begging her fingers to move lower. Hearing his moan gave her a deep pleasure, a pleasure fueled by power, a power that came from knowing the effect she was having on him.
She teased him for several agonizing moments, her fingers tickling his low belly, just above the waistband of his underwear, tracing the hard muscles of his abs. Her desire to see his cock fought a good battle against her desire to keep the anticipation going— and to hold the power over him a little longer. She felt his need for her, his body itself begging through its gyrations toward her, his moans tight and desperate.
Finally, unable to restrain herself any longer, she shoved his boxer briefs down roughly, his glorious cock revealing itself.
She resisted the urge to gasp as she pulled away from kissing him to glance down, pausing everything just to stare, absorbed in what a beauty it was.
Her pussy throbbed, aching with a strong craving for him to fill her. But as she admired it, she wondered if it would even fit inside her. She judged its size against her on-again-off-again, favorite lover Shay’s who, at the time of meeting him, was the biggest she’d had. But this was beyond even his. And she would love to tell Shay, deflate his ego a bit, “Hey babe — I fucked someone whose cock was twice the size of yours!”
She was pretty sure he'd love hearing it — hate it, of course, unless she let him fuck her just to prove to her again that he was the best she'd ever had, that no matter how big another man’s cock was, he could fuck her better.
While he was inside of her, he would love hearing about this other man’s giant, delicious, immaculate cock. It would fuel him to fuck her better than ever. This was at least half of why she loved fucking other men — to torture Shay with the stories.
Brian’s cock wasn’t actually twice the size — that would be impossible, Paige thought — but there was no harm in exaggeration when the exaggeration was used to deflate a man’s ego, especially Shay’s. His ego was at least as large as his cock, if not larger.
She smiled menacingly, a new kind of pleasure entering her: the pleasure of telling her lover — who was currently not her lover (they were in an off-again stage) — why he wasn’t worth a backwards glance from her. How she was able to move on, find a bigger, better cock, attached to a man confidant enough to not need her to stroke his ego.
Paige finally snapped out of her micro-fantasy and looked at Brian’s face. His eyelids were lowered sensually over his honey-gold eyes; he was looking right at her, waiting for her to respond to the body part he was undoubtedly used to receiving reactions to.
She merely lifted the left corner of her mouth in a half smile, her chin rising to complete her expression of confidence, cockiness even. He wasn’t going to intimidate her — nor was his giant cock. She swung her leg over him, pressing her pussy, clad in her favorite black silky panties, the ones trimmed in black lace, against his upper thighs. She looked down at him as she slowly removed her shirt. He watched, patient now. Now that he was exposed he’d become calm, as if he knew that as soon as she saw his enormous member, she would do the rest of the work.
And he was right. She let him admire her body for a moment before slowly reaching behind her back to undo the clip of her red, satin bra. His eyes held hers as she did this, finally traveling down in an expression of admiration as he took in her full breasts, small, erect nipples and curvaceous body, though he too made an effort to reveal nothing. It was a stand off.
His hands told their own story though as he reached up to grab her thighs. She could feel the tension, the energy, the need in his tight, bruising grip. She loved the thought that later, she would have small purple marks where his fingers dug into her skin, marks she wouldn’t hesitate to show Shay.
She returned Brian’s look, holding onto the moment, reading him, letting him read her. Then she placed her own hands on his well-formed shoulders and slid her body up, running her silk-covered pussy along the length of his hard member.
She kissed his neck, her long, dark hair falling onto his skin in a whisper. She inhaled deeply. The scent of incense, which filled the room with a thick smoke, had soaked into his skin and mingled with the rich scent of his body. She breathed in again, gulping the smell down deeply like a warm, sweet drink. It was a drink she knew would be too rich if she had too much of it, but it had been a long time since she’d had such a treat, and so for the time being, she gulped it eagerly and shamelessly.
Paige had met Brian at the theatre earlier that night. He was on stage dressed in armor that displayed his well-formed shoulders, and a crown. He was playing Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream and performing a soliloquy when they saw each other, him from the stage, her in the front row. She absolutely loved Shakespeare and A Midsummer Night’s Dream was her favorite play, one that didn’t get performed very often.
When Brian — or shall we call him Oberon — saw Paige looking up at him, his actual words were, “I know a bank where the wild thyme blows/ Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.” But his eyes were saying something slightly different.
You are beautiful, I will take you there, they said as he spoke: “With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.”
You are sexy as hell and I’d like to fuck you, she responded with a raised eyebrow and half smile.
Please — please do, came his reply before he dragged his eyes away from her face and returned to his character.
“A sweet Athenian lady is in love/ With a disdainful youth: anoint his eyes;/ But do it when the next thing he spies/ May be the lady.”
After the play, she’d waited in the lobby, a glass of champagne forming an extension of her elegant wrist and slender hand as she leaned lightly against a tall, round table. The dark rose colored dress she wore hugged her body all the way from her slender shoulders to her perfectly-formed toes. She ignored the lustful eyes of men who were following their wives out of the theatre, and the envious eyes of the wives. There was only one person she cared to feel the gaze of, and that person was still backstage.
He didn’t take long though, to emerge through the door that led to the stage, and she watched him as he scanned the room, anxiously looking for her, his body tense, his posture actor-perfect and powerful. Several audience members eyed him too, surprised to see one of the actors off stage, perhaps wanting a piece of him, just as she did. They appeared intimidated, as though they wanted to talk to him, but didn’t dare.
Paige watched him, a tiny smile playing across her mouth, enjoying knowing that it was she whom he was seeking, whom he was afraid he may never see again.
When he caught sight of her, his manner changed drastically. A calm confidence ran through his figure as if he’d suddenly walked into a dream. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, lifting her glass of champagne to him in a quiet toast.
She watched him walk towards her slowly and noticed that, although he’d changed into jeans and a button-up pinstriped shirt, he still had make-up on. Her smile grew. She loved a man in make-up — it showed how confident he was in his sexuality, and, well, it was sexy, his eyes lined in black liner, his cheeks bruised, his lips red. She wore very little make-up herself and there was something lovely in the complementary nature of this fact.
A few hours later they were in his bed in the hotel room the theatre had set him up with, satin-white sheets, a small kitchenette with an island counter on which he’d laid out a chocolate tart from the restaurant he’d taken her to.
“We’ll take the dessert to go,” she had told the waitress at the end of their meal, looking right at Brian as she said this. She was running her foot up his pant leg and he was struggling to keep a straight face, to retain his composure and not lean across the table, kissing her hard, pulling her body towards him, knocking the glasses of red wine to their sides, spilling and staining the white tablecloth.
To hell with purity, he thought, to hell with proper behavior, I want to fuck this woman here and now.
But he’d been a good, respectful gentleman, leading her out of the restaurant by the small of her back before hailing a cab. In the cab they sat silently as he began to stroke her thigh, playing with the fabric of her satin dress against her smooth skin. She looked out the window, communicating her consent only through the subtle gesture of lifting the fabric, inch by inch, higher on her leg until just before arriving at his apartment, he was able to touch her skin. The cab pulled over to the curb and slowed to a stop.
The elevator ride was similarly torturous — though shorter than the cab ride, it was closer to their destination, and therefore, relatively longer.
She sat straddled over his nude body wearing only her black satin panties and leaned down to kiss him. He met her lips with his own, full-sensual lips. There was just a trace of the rouge he’d worn for the show.
He pulled at her hips and slid her panties down. She pulled them the rest of the way and took his giant cock in her hand. Her pussy was already plenty wet, but she was nervous and figured the more lubrication the better, so she licked him from the base of his cock to the tip, making herself grow wetter. He moaned slightly and wound his hands into her hair, not pulling, just holding her head as she moved her way around him, licking and then putting the tip into her mouth. She couldn’t get it very far but she did her best, her tongue making up for it, reaching to cover more surface area.
He moaned deeper and she tasted his precum, only encouraging her to go deeper, deeper until she was gagging on him but still, she didn’t want to stop, feeling herself growing wetter, throbbing, aching for him.
She kept at it until his hands clutched her head, preventing her from moving. He was going to cum if she kept going. She waited, his cock still filling her mouth and then pressed just the tip of her tongue against the shaft, flicking it the smallest amount, edging him just a little closer than he realized he could go. He moaned. She glanced up at his body, his back arched in ecstasy, his head thrown back, his neck stretched.
She crawled back up to him and licked his beautiful neck, nibbling his ear and whispered, “Afraid you’re going to cum?”
“You have me going crazy, baby,” he said, gripping her hips and glaring at her, lifting his head and pulling her lips in, kissing her deeply.
“Not as crazy as you have me,” she replied, working herself up to it, nervous, excited, wondering how long she could wait before needing him inside her, afraid but excited by the prospect of pain, afraid though, ultimately, that he wouldn’t fit and would leave her horny and unsatisfied.
Swiftly and smoothly he lifted her hips away from him and turned her so she was lying on her back against the white sheets. “Your turn,” he said.
He began kissing her belly, and she pushed his shoulders down, lower, getting him closer and closer to her throbbing clit. Finally he placed his full lips over her warm, wet space, leaving them there for a moment, the warmth and gentle pressure causing a gush of liquid to spill from her pussy. He hummed in appreciation as she cried out in surprise and pleasure. Maybe she wouldn’t have to worry about being left unsatisfied after all.
Edging her closer and closer with gentle, soft movements of his lips and tongue, she closed her eyes and imagined his cock in her mouth again, imagined what it would be like to feel him cum in her mouth. Lost in the fantasy, she forgot her goal of fucking him. She began to feel she couldn’t hold her orgasm any longer and cried out, “Come here. Give me your cock. I need it it my mouth.”
He complied, and she lay on her back as he thrust his huge, hard member into her mouth. She opened wide, sucking and licking it, the arousal keeping her at the edge of cumming. He pulsed and began moving harder, faster, while she gagged on him. He reached down and pressed his thumb into her clit, his fingers entering her. She resisted the orgasm, breathing deeply all the while she continued to gag and suck on him, craving feeling him release into her mouth, kneeling above her, looking down at her with deep black eyes through sexy, lowered eyelids.
Finally she couldn’t hold herself back any longer, or maybe it was he who started it but she began cumming just as she felt him thrust deeply, filling her mouth and throat with his hot seed which she welcomed with open mouth.
Afterwards, he kissed her. “I didn’t get to fuck you,” she said.
“There’s time enough for that,” he promised.
