This friendship with benefits involving Trevor - and Pamela - is officially all fucked up. The Woman With The Big Tits was napping in my other room when The Man With The Big Cock left my queen bed to visit the men's room. Turns out Trevor "visited" Pamela to consummate the relationship between The Woman And The Man With The Bigs.
I then proceeded to eject Pamela from my house. I also put Trevor on notice that I am completely in charge of our fuck going forward and he will do as I say or face criminal charges aka I will call law enforcement and report a sexual assault.
Okay, Trevor, I say. You understand the rules?
Well, yes, he says. But, answer this question: are you or are you not going to fuck me?
I think you know the answer to that question, Little Big Man. I mount Trevor's cock between my legs and slowly fuck it. Oh. My. Stars. Best cock ever.
I knew you wouldn't pass up the chance, Evie, he says. You're a slutty cockmonger. You'll do anything for dick, especially my dick.
So, you get yours and I'll get mine and that's the end of the road for us, I say. At that point, Shorty, you're back to beating off thinking about me and/or Pamela, because you're so fucking vertically challenged it's going to be tough out there. Good luck, my friend!
Evie, I wouldn't fuck you again if you begged me to!
Well, Junior, let's make that happen right now, I say to the Little Big Man as I ease my naked body up and off his 13 inch cock.
Damn! I'm going to miss that! But, Trevor's attitude has become most annoying, to say the least, and maybe better described as hostile. Therefore, I'm making the grand sacrifice.
Trevor's enormous primary sexual characteristic gave me the best sex ever. Yet, as much as I liked stroking the immense 13 with my hand as well as with Slot Machine, I've had it with stroking the fragile male ego that goes along with the 13.
Trevor! I exclaim, goddamnit, your bravado is hilarious. You would fuck me again. Every straight five foot six inch short man would fuck me. And, a few gay ones. And, I wouldn't have to beg. Face it, Trevor. I'm smoldering hot! You're short! And, your list of potential sex partners is a lot shorter. Listen. I know statistics, Trevor. Five foot six is minus one standard deviation from the mean of height of Caucasian men. Dig this, Little Man: fully 84 percent of those men are taller than you! You're a fucking loser! Now, get out of the house, you fucking loser! I'll give you five minutes. Five minutes, that is, before I call the police and report a sexual assault.
Trevor moves slowly from my queen bed. His cock is semi-flaccid, down to a thick 6 inches now. I guess strong women are frightening to him.
I watch him the entire duration of getting dressed. The fucker is handsome, in a short sense. Trevor has thick black wavy hair and brown eyes punctuating a beautiful face. His skin is white, like he doesn't tan in the summer. And, he doesn't need to tan because his V torso is sexy, pale or otherwise.
Other women would say, why, Evie? Well, Little Big Man is getting on my fucking nerves. My day began fucking a tall, good-looking sociopath. Then I met petite Pamela with the Giant Tits, and interrupted a great conversation with her to jack off a guy I didn't know in a public men's room. An hour later, that guy was in my queen bed helping me rack up 9 orgasms before that guy ran off from me to fuck Pamela. I kicked her out of my house, and now he's history.
Trevor's ready to go. His athletic bag is at his feet. He's wearing a red polo with black slacks. A rounded knot appears in his crotch.
You know, Evie, he says to my tits as he unzips his fly and pulls out his cock. Evie, we could have had outstanding sex all the time had you not turned into such a bitch on ice skates.
During this sentence, Trevor has jacked his cock back to the 13 size I so enjoy. Love Juice drips from my Slot Machine and dribbles down the insides of my long naked thighs. He has me. Right now. This time I want to suck the 13. I stare at it. I can already feel it. My nipples are bursting out of my areole. I gotta have Trevor's cock on my tongue, rubbing against the roof of my mouth. I want Trevor's cock filling up my mouth. My God! I need it. I need to suck it, to suck the knob and suck the long shaft. I need it. I have never been a woman who sucks cock, but now I crave it. That cock would feel really good in my mouth.
Suddenly, I snap out of the Dick Trance I so easily fell into. It hit me in the face: how desperate can a woman get, Evie? Sucking cock is demeaning. You're way better than that, Evie.
Well, the way I figure, I should move fast, because, as it has been said many times, desperate times call for desperate measures.
I know where my Glock 9 millimeter handgun is located. It's under the queen bed on the left side, away from the bedroom door. While Trevor is silently and mindlessly ogling me while beating off, I walk to that side of the bed. Wisps of my blonde hair fall to my face as I bend over to fetch the gun. My naked D cup boobs clack together as I stand up.
Trevor has brought himself to an orgasmic state while I searched for my Glock.
He looks as if he wants to tell me about it.
I'm going to come, Evie, he hisses as he gives his cock long strokes. Come here...so I can...come...on you! I want to come on...your...tits! Please! Fuck! This feels great! Come here...bitch...and jack my monster cock! I know you want it, bitch!
Trevor's face contorts. His breathing is labored. He's slack jawed and slumped over. The strokes of his right hand get faster. He's grabbing his balls with his left hand.
You know? A woman is gorgeous and strong when she makes herself come. Guys? Guys beating off look very ugly and vulnerable; they whimper and whine, they're kind of weird and pathetic creatures at That Moment, right before they blow a load.
He comes everywhere, like a porn star. On the rug. On the bed. Trevor aimed for me feet away and barely missed. His eyes roll back into his head.
Oh, oh, God! Evie! What did you think of that? Oh, oh, oh. My.
That's really gross. I can't believe I wanted to suck that.
The peace and calm orgasms bring men is instantly cut short for him as I brought my gun in outstretched arms to face level, aiming it at his now limp cock.
Well, I say with a laugh, looks like this naked girl can take care of herself! And, Trevor, thank you for the DNA deposit on my rug. That may come in handy!
Oh, look, I say, here's the safety on my Glock.
I click the safety lever.
Looks like the gun's ready to fire, I say. Oh, it's aimed at your cock. The 13 will not do you any good if it's splattered in your groin, now will it, Trevor. That's what I think of that!
Both my index fingers are on the trigger.
No, please, Evie, Trevor pleads. Don't. No. Let's talk about this. I didn't mean the bitch remark. I'm sorry I masturbated on your bedroom floor. Please put the gun down and let's talk through this.
I slowly swing the aim of my Glock 18 inches from Trevor's crotch to the left door jamb.
Evie! For God's sake! Don't shoot me!
I know my brown eyes are on fire as I pull the trigger. The kick is hard and the blast is deafening. There is a hole in the door jamb and in the wall to the left. Trevor bolts from the premises before the sheet rock dust clears. I'd say he's long gone and possibly still has not placed his dick back in his pants.
I stand naked, in a stupor. What led me to believe the Glock was loaded? I don't know.
My older sister Madison is correct: really crazy shit happens in college.
******
I'm a lucky naked woman. If that slug would have ricocheted and taken out his brain...well, Trevor's come soaked into the rug could have answered a lot of questions.
I can smell myself. It's not the sweet aroma that waifs in anticipation of good sex. No. The odor is a mixture of my stale Slot Machine with Comedy Carter's old come, Trevor's saliva, and this morning's crotch sweat. I have not bathed since 9 last night, yet another Carter specification. If I had Vagisil, I'd try it in an attempt to alleviate foul puss. I really can't recall ever smelling this badly. That could be because I've never fucked two different men in a 12 hour period.
Evie. What a slutty cockmonger you are.
Next time I could use some tenderness. The score: 5 men in an academic year. I'm talking sex, as defined by President William Jefferson Clinton in 1998. I was a four year old preschooler then, and Bill's ass was in a sling. He escaped impeachment. I grew to be an early twenties woman in search of top-drawer fucking.
