Big Cock (Revised) - Encounters
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I published this story on Nifty.org ages ago. I have revised it with more mature eyes.
The word "daddy" and "boy" refer to role-play only. Both characters are well over eighteen. This is purely a work of fiction.
Please send comments and constructive criticism to siktici@rcn.com
Big Cock Revised
By siktici
Copyright 2017
"Yeah, I like big cocks, but I'm no queen," I said to the tall daddy, with a squared jaw and buzz cut. He met me leaving County Line's backroom.
"Well, I'm your man," he said and pulled from his unzipped jeans an impressive cock, despite its flaccid state. His balls sat puffy in his big hand as he held the whole package up to the dim light. "It's bigger when it's angry," he said and wiped away the cum that dangled from my goatee. The gesture not only intrigued me but also caused my drippy cock to grow. "Interested?" he asked.
"Why me?" I asked.
"Easy. You look hot, and from what I saw back there, you suck like a nursing baby."
"I like you already," I said. "Let's have a beer and talk it over."
"Let's do that," he said, rubbing my ass, "but at my place. I don't put on no show."
My look of concern caused him to add, "Don't worry; workin' a hot ass is all I'm about.
"Shoot," I said, "I was hoping you got crazy."
"I didn't say I didn't," he said and smiled, expanding his goatee, his green eyes sparkling in the light. His smile caused deep dimples to form at the corners of his mouth.
I have always been hot for tall daddy-types, especially those who kept reasonably fit. What really winked my asshole, however, were their deep voices, their masculinity, and their quiet confidence.
This daddy had all three, and each time he spoke, the space behind my balls vibrated.
"You driving?" he asked, as he led me through the forest of cowboys and a few leather men. But he wore denim, nothing but denim. The cotton shirt, denim jacket, and jeans over keen-toed boots enhanced his look as a man in the driver's seat. And I guess I resided somewhere between a backseat passenger and riding shotgun.
I did ride shotgun on our way to his house. Occasionally, I looked at his ruggedness, his lanky body, with legs so long that he steered between his knees. I ran my hand along the surface of his leg and up his cotton shirt. Under it, I could feel the furry warmth of his stomach and then slight ripple of abdominals. He looked over and flashed a dimpled smile. My ass winked several times.
His condo held minimal furnishings, soft light glowed in corners, and luscious plants sat here and there. He went to the kitchen for beer, and I sat on a leather couch as smooth as my hairless ass.
"Nice place," I said when he returned. "Minimal," I said as if the observation mattered.
"Thanks," he said, politely, but my impression his place wasn't his focus. He searched my eyes and covered my mouth in a warm wet kiss. As short as the kiss was, it took my breath away. I drank my beer, recovered, and again, felt my ass wink; but this time my cock pulsed along with it.
"So, why aren't you taken?" I asked. "A big strappin' daddy like you."
"Who says I'm not?" he asked, and then leaned in again to take my breath away.
"Then you do have a lover," I said, leaning away.
"I don't want to talk about me," he said and began nibbling my ear.
My expression asked for explanation as I took up my beer.
"You want the story or you want this hard cock?" he asked.
"Can't I have both?"
"No. You choose," he said, then placed my hand on his angrier cock.
"No doubt, cock it is," I said and rubbed his impressive member.
He grinned, grabbed my hand, and led me to the bedroom furnished just as minimally.
"Don't sit down or take off your clothes until I come from the bathroom," he said.
I stood in silence. When he returned, my mouth formed an "O". Silky black hair occupied his entire body. Spiraling out like blowing wheat, it ringed bushiest around his cock, fought for space around his torso, and gathered in tuffs between his pecs. The silkiness of it shone in the light, as wave upon wave cascaded over his shoulders and down his arms. Small islands of it sat on his feet.
And although I drooled at the sight of a severely furry man, my mouth had formed the "O" at the sight of his cock. It had grown to a size that recalled fertility gods I spotted in New Orleans' French Market. Topped by a large dark-red hood, his cock speared northward, un-phased by gravity. One large vein sent tributaries along the shaft that resembled a double-barrel rifle.
"This is when they find some reason to leave," he said with a softly sad expression that replaced the bravado he displayed in the bar.
"But that's not what I'm going to do," I said and walked into his furry arms.
"You're staying?" he asked in husky voice.
"Is a pig ass pork?" I asked with a sly grin.
"Well, I don't know," he said, "I've never eaten a pig's ass."
"Oink," I said.
And we both laughed.
We kissed as I slid my hand along his cock. The length of it intoxicated me. He fingered my ass, causing the lips to fold out in a small donut. And it occurred to me that if heaven did exist, I had found it on earth.
He broke the kiss because I couldn't. My mind and body had become an instrument, and I wanted him to play me.
"Wait a second," he said and took from a nearby closet a small black chair with a commode seat and no bowl. I used this on special occasions," he said. "Sit down and let me taste some pork."
His tongue in my hole sent shivers to the top of my head and the tips of my toes. Their trips along my surface made me quiver, made my cock pulse precum, and turned my body into one big nerve ending. He flicked aside folds and stabbed areas never touched. And at each probe, my hole expanded beyond limits I thought impossible.
"A talented hole," he said between explorations.
His words brought from me mounting desire, and his slow and loving technique contrasted sharply to any rimming encounter I had experienced.
"You fucker," I said. "Eat my hole, daddy." The words came from my core; they came naturally and eagerly; and they came as if from a far-off place. If I had tried to script them, I was sure I wouldn't recall
their phrasings.
I don't know how long he worked my ass. Time didn't matter, but it had to be considered. Morning always came too soon when an encounter became more than cursory.
"I'm gonna fuck that ass, boy. I'm gonna fuck it hard and deep. Can you take it?"
"Yeah, daddy," I said, my words coated in lust.
"Tell me, boy. Beg me for it."
"I want you cock, daddy."
"I don't believe you, boy," he said while moving me to the bed and motioning for me to get on my back.
Presenting my hole to be used, I asked, "What do you want me to do?" The words didn't come from my mind; they came from my hole, as if an entity resided there.
He grabbed lube from a nightstand. "I'm gonna make that hole nice and squishy, boy," he said between shallow breaths of lust. I felt his fingers gently enter my hole with large dollops of lube. His fingers
coaxed my ass lips into spreading wider.
"Nice and warm in there," he said, then moved between my legs like a grizzly ready to maul me. Taking a heel in each hand, he raised my legs in a "V," but never looked from my eyes. I watched as his grin
appear and disappear, interrupted only by the effort of getting us in position.
Slowly and smoothly, he entered my ass until I felt of his cock head plopped through my entrance. A dull aching moved to a sensation of fullness, a fullness that brought more expansion. I felt like a balloon
beyond its capacity. And still his cock moved into me until I thought like the balloon I would burst.
"Yeah, baby, your taking all of daddy's cock," he said as he continued to hold my legs in the air and slowly moved back and forth. My ass clamped and released his cock that was so deep in me I'm sure he felt my heartbeat.
"Oh!" I realized he had more cock to move into me. As he pushed forward, my flesh moved aside to allow him to move even deeper. I felt as if I were inching a fireman's pole into my ass.
"There," he said between big grins, "I knew you could take it all--Finally, I found you."
What he said really hadn't registered. I focused on the incredible fullness in my ass. I closed my eyes as he again moved in short strokes. Each stroke, however, became longer and his breathing grew shallower. I felt his silky hair on the back of my legs as he tucked them on each side of his torso. For the moment, he seemed content with moving deep in my hole.
Occasionally, I opened my eyes to see his grin come and go as he mumbled his own desires.
"Fuck me daddy, I said. I need it hard, I need it deep."
Wordlessly, he pushed my knees to my chest. Half-standing and half- crouching, and in one smooth motion, he pushed his cock into my hole until his balls rested just under the entrance. He moved his pelvis in slow circles before rising to start again.
I cried out at the fullness in my hole and moaned at the relief of his retreat. Desperately, I wanted to grab my cock, but stroking it would surely make me cum.
But he began the long stroke by pulling his cock's head to my entrance, before pushing it all the way in. And each time he did, his pace quicken. Movement, graceful and masculine, sent me above myself. Each thrust and retreat moved me higher and higher. And just when I thought I could go no higher, I squirted watery cum over my face, into my opened mouth, and all over my chest.
"That's what I wanted to see," he said and quickened his pace even more. "Now it's daddy turn."
"Come in me, daddy. Fill my hole with cum," I said. Turned on by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of my hole, and watching his grin appear and disappear under beautiful green eyes, I watched as my cock hardened. I began to stroke toward another orgasm.
His body stiffened, he bared his teeth, and pain flashed across his face, as the first of his load shot into me. "Here comes daddy," he said in what in any other situation would have seemed a cliché. But his
declaration of being my daddy was the impetus to bring my cock to eruption.
Load after hot load filled my quivering ass as I sprayed come over my chest and stomach. Each downward thrust from him pulsed another flowed into me. And little by little, we slowed to happy fatigue.
He lowered his hairy body over mine and we kissed at that moment when it meant more than putting a period at the end of a sentence. With my legs over my head and his hairy body lightly resting on me, we kissed and breathed until he found the strength to withdraw and lay beside me.
I waited for him to change. Even after the most passionate encounters, I have had men crave my absence. I prepared for an explanation of early commitment, but nuzzling my neck, he whispered the question, "You want to stay the night?"
"I thought you had a story you didn't want told," I said, not realizing it was I who had changed. I had prepared for early dismissal and hadn't noticed the sincerity of his words.
"Well, I did say that, but-- "
"That usually meant that there was someone else," I said.
"I never said that."
"That's true," I said.
"Listen," he said after a long sigh, "when you look like I do, it's best to protect yourself."
"Protect yourself? From what?" I asked.
"Most guys are either put off by my hair or scared away by my cock." With silence hanging between us, he covered his eyes with an arm.
"I understand if you have to go," he said.
Hearing sadness in his words, I rose to one elbow, removed his arm, and looked deeply into his beautiful green eyes. "I promised myself if I ever got to heaven," I said with a husky voice, I promised myself that I would never leave."