Life Of The Party 5

I'm not sure how many cocks had fucked me so far, but I did know that the one now working its way up my ass was definitely the biggest one I had taken so far that night. Maybe ever -- I felt like I was being invaded by a living creature and I was very thankful I'd let everyone go bareback and that most had deposited loads. I needed the lubrication!

Let me set the stage for you. My name's Leslie Dramas (pronounced dra-MASS). I'm 48 years old, brunette, five feet tall (on a good day), I weigh about 110, and most of the body fat I have lives in the fun bags on my chest. I've been overly endowed almost since puberty. That's been quite the journey for me. Fortunately, my Mom had been through all of that when she grew up, and she did all she could to ease my way into womanhood. She and Daddy were straight shooters when it came to life, and they were unabashed in helping me cope.

It took a long time to get that the guys going nuts over my boobs (hell, even over my bra straps) wasn't personal. At some point I realized that most of the time they didn't even know there was a human being over here -- all they could see was their hormone driven urge to grope and fondle. The insecurities of growing up female could be a book in and of themselves, and I'm not about to write it -- although I certainly could. If you hear of anyone working on one, I'll be happy to contribute about big boobs, boys and coming to grips with being a sex object.

By the time I came home from college for the Christmas holidays, I didn't have a virgin orifice left. I was away from my home, on my own, experienced enough to know that I liked sex of all sorts, and well educated enough by Mom and Dad to know how to be responsible for myself. I visited the campus clinic, put myself on the pill, and always carried condoms. I had no desire to get pregnant or to catch something nasty. And I stuck to my guns; no matter how hot the guy, if it was a first time, he either wrapped or he walked.

I think I was atypical. I know I never found other girls who had the same attitude. (Fortunately, more than 20 years later I have women friends with similar outlooks) Any way, my freshman and sophomore years pretty much exist as a blur for me, but I do know that, when I wasn't studying, I attended lots of parties, had lots of sex, and took advantage of my boobs as best I could. I learned the art of showing cleavage. I mean, really! I used to play a game with my girl friends (and yes, I did have some.) where we would bet on how much I had to show before a guy began talking to my boobs. Pretty soon I had it down to a science and hadn't run into a man who didn't succumb to flashes of my pretties.

Until I met Ernie, that is. He was about six feet tall, had brown hair and a dark complexion, with amazing green eyes that drew me in like a moth to a flame. What was so amazing was that he didn't seem to be aware of how attractive he was, and what was so incredibly infuriating was through more than a few beers and conversation I never caught him trying to peek at my boobs. Here I thought I could wrap men around my little finger by opening another button or leaning forward, or squeezing my boobs between my arms. Up until now it had been effortless -- flash enough cleavage and I had all my drinks paid for -- but not with Ernie. Not having him come under my spell was beginning to frustrate me -- not to mention that I was about two buttons away from indecent exposure!

After the initial frustration wore off, I found myself enraptured by his sillky voice and intelligent conversation. Maybe it was the alcohol, but at some point I simply blurted out my frustration:

"I don't understand it" I said. "I've unbuttoned my shirt to below my bra and I have yet to see you even glance at my tits. Are you gay or something? Usually no guy can keep from checking them out, and you haven't even glanced down once."

"Oh, I know you have an extraordinary rack" he said. "And I have it in the back of my mind that I want to do more than glance surreptitiously down your blouse. Besides, I thought you might appreciate a guy who was interested in who's home -not just the display porch. I imagine every guy checks you out and lots wind up drooling over your ample charms -- but I also imagine that while you've come to terms with it, there's gotta be some wish to be seen as more than the content of your bra."

"Damn, Ernie, how did you know?" I asked.

"I have three sisters. Two are older than I am and one is younger. Of the two older ones, Sandy, the oldest, is relatively flat-chested. Alison, the second oldest, however, has a chest like you do. And Gale is a year younger than I am, and I've been party to many conversations between them. Alison struggled for a long time; hearing some of the things that she had done to her, both physically and emotionally, I did my best to not be your typical guy enamored of big boobs and too chicken shit to talk about them. Judging by your comments, I've gained some skill in that area. So now, if you really want me to get acquainted with your amazing chest, can I suggest we go some place personal and private and I assure you I will have it be worth your while. But in public, I'm going to remain a gentleman and respect you as a being."

"Then pay the check while I powder my nose. Once I'm back we have a choice -- my place or yours." With that I got up from the table and went to the ladies' room. Since my panties were now soaked, I dropped them to pee and then took them off. Ernie had not only engaged my mind but my body as well. I was hoping he wasn't all talk. I walked back to the table with an extra swing in my step, hoping he'd notice, and he did. Remember, I'd gotten good at watching men's faces. As he stood up, I reached out with my hand and pressed my damp panties into his. "Yes, this is my way of letting you know you've already gotten lucky tonight, so have no doubts about where this is going. Now, shall we go?"

"Indeed. We're heading to my place, since I don't know how to get to yours, and you may not be able to give me directions."

"Why is that?" I asked, already looking forward to what I figured he had in mind -- and noticing a prominent bulge in his pants that suggested the answer.

"Well, I have an additional dessert you might be busy with."

"Oooh, goody!" I responded. I admit, I was a horny little slut at heart and somehow he'd unleashed me. It had never happened before (without lots of alcohol or drugs) and I was determined to take this as far as I could. "Um, can I trust you? I mean, we're going to your place and I have no idea if you're a serial killer or some evil creature."

He handed me a business card, of all things! "I'm a writer and work from home. Go ahead and take a picture of this and send it to someone you trust; let them know where you are going. I want you to feel safe tonight." Damn! This was too good to believe. I did as he suggested, sending the picture of the card to Helen, my BFF and roommate, and let her know I was planning to spend the night there. And planning on a fucking good time. "Go for it" she sent back!

We made it out to the parking lot. I moved my car to the street and he came up next to it to pick me up. It was a shiny new Ford 150, and for a minute I worried about flashing the world as I climbed up into it -- and then just did it and those that caught a glimpse were just lucky.

"I like the seating" I said. 'Bucket seats may be stylish, but they aren't very conducive to socializing. At least not the way I mean it." I grinned at him.

"And just how do you mean it?" he asked, grinning back.

I moved next to him and ran a hand down his stomach and over his crotch. There was something large and hot under my hand and I began to squeeze and probe, trying to get a measure on what seemed to be a larger than average cock. "How's this for starters?" I asked.

"Not bad at all" he said, "but I promised you dessert, didn't I? Let me prepare it for you" he said as he unzipped himself and let his cock spring free of his pants. And he had the male equivalent of my big tits -- he was at least eight inches and not yet fully erect. Thankfully he was circumcised -- I had a preference, what can I say -- and I saw a drop of moisture at the tip, so I bent over and began to lick at it like a lollipop.

"Delicious!" I said. "Can you drive safely if I.....?" He answered by pressing his hand on the back of my head. I opened my mouth and took him as deeply as I could. All those stories and things about blowing the guy behind the wheel don't ever mention that it's not only an awkward angle, but most guys can't get fully exposed. Not that those things stopped me from devouring his hot meat, however. "I can do a lot better than this when we have more room" I said as I stroked him, delighting at the way he was growing harder, thicker and longer in my hand.

"Duly noted" he said. "I will look forward to that when it happens, but in the meantime, I think you may simply want to do your best under the circumstances and we won't worry about ratings. Deal?"

I didn't say anything -- I just bent back down and filled my mouth with his cock. I loved sucking cock almost as soon as I started doing it -- I loved the power it gave me over men -- hell, I still do! And in Ernie's case, I also found that his smell and his taste were unique and delicious. Pre-cum was now steadily leaking from the head of his cock, and I managed to get him to the back of my mouth at the border of my throat, bobbing up and down and moaning. I had one hand around the base of his dick and was working hard to get him to come right away so I could not only taste him, but once we got to his house I wouldn't have to worry about anything happening prematurely. And somehow he knew what I was doing!

"You can ease up. I'm not planning to come while I'm driving. Not only that but I plan to keep it up for a long time for you."

"Well damn," I said, sitting back up but continuing to stroke him, "you may not want to come right away, but I do! How about a hand?" I spread my legs wide and hitched up my skirt. I felt his long fingers caress my outer lips, and touch everywhere except my throbbing clit. I moaned with impatience and grabbed his hand and pressed it firmly up into my privates. "I really need you to rub my clit. Don't be shy. Finger bang me and make me come!" Within a minute my insides were twitching and spasming and I came close to blacking out -- especially when he continued to rub me while I came again!

I grabbed his hand again, this time to stop him. "Hold on. Once I get to three orgasms, if I'm not lying down I will collapse! Are we close to your place yet? "

"Another two minutes" he answered, "so we can take a break. For now." I took the hand away from my crotch and brought it to my lips where I sucked my juices from his fingers. I swear I felt his cock get even harder. Then we pulled into a driveway, he pressed a button and as the garage door rose we pulled into a pretty clean space. Once we were in and the door was closing, we looked at one another.

"Ernie, I'm a slut and I'm proud of it. I love sex and pleasure and make no bones about it."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"Because I don't ever intend to change that and if I ever have a relationship it's got to be part of it. I don't think I can ever be a one man woman. I figured I better get that on the table right away. I'd be fine if tonight was a one night stand, but there's something going on that suggests more. I want more."

"Okay. First, let's get through tonight. I plan to fuck you silly and make you come so many times you'd need skilled assistance getting out of my bed. When the night is over and we wake up in the same bed after whatever we do to each other let's see if we can look each other in the eye. And we can start from there. But for now, I am dying to get my hands on those enormous boobs that you have been flaunting all night, and there are at least two holes that I intend to explore in depth. Three if you're willing."

I started unbuttoning my blouse. "Well, what are we waiting for? Christmas? I bet I can get naked before you!" I had my blouse off as I got out of his truck, and as I entered his house through the garage I was unfastening my bra. That just left my skirt, and I stepped out of it as I entered his kitchen. Inspired, I used a chair to get myself up on his kitchen table where I leaned back, spread my legs wide and waited for him to come in. His big cock led the way, and when he made it into the kitchen he too was naked and I got a good look at him at last.

Ernie was fit -- he had a swimmer's physique. And he was practically hairless,. He was obviously a swimmer. That lack of body hair had his big cock seem even bigger. He looked at me on his kitchen table, grinned and said "dessert" before placing himself between my legs and fastening his mouth to my pussy. Fuck, this guy was magical! He found my clit with his lips and began to batter it with his tongue while at the same time getting one, and then a second finger up inside me. I came almost immediately and, just like before, he kept going and I came again. And again! Finally I pushed his head away and fell back on the table. Blood was pumping hard throughout my body and I felt as if I'd been blown up and reassembled.

And that was just the start of the most memorable night of my life. I eventually managed to take his cock down my throat and milk a load from him. He spent what seemed like a lifetime playing with my tits, and while sucking on the nipple of one and squeezing and twisting the other, for the very first time I came just from having my boobs manipulated! That inspired me to offer him my ass -- even before my pussy. Hell, if he'd wanted me to stand on my head while we fucked I would have done my damnedest. By the time we finished fucking, he'd come in every hole I had and I come more times than I could count.

When we woke up the next morning, we had no problem looking into each other's eyes. I saw myself in his eyes and he saw himself in mine. We eventually got out of bed; he did his thing in the bathroom and went downstairs (still naked) to start breakfast after letting me know I could take my time. I took care of my business and stayed naked when I walked into the kitchen to the delicious smells of a home cooked breakfast.

As we ate, we began to share with each other all about ourselves. Maybe he thought it would shock me when he revealed that he was bi, but since I was as well, that was no big deal. He had a couple of regular friends with benefits (both male and female) and wanted to know if that was a problem. "No" I replied, "unless they can't accept me as part of the package from time to time. And by the way, I have some similar friends."

I was worried how he was going to take the next piece -- my gang bang buds -- but he took the same approach I did with him. "As long as I can play as well" was his response. Damn! This was too good to be true! I stopped talking for a minute and he asked me what was going on.

"It seems too good to be true. Like you and I are two halves of the same coin. Is that possible?"

"I was thinking the same thing. I don't know how to proceed from here, but I intend to find out. Are you game?"

And that's where we began. Both of us horny, adventurous, young and excited. We'd found a seeming other half and that in and of itself was exciting. We were soon inseparable, whether visiting his girl friends, his guy friends or my friends. He attended my gang bangs and fit right in (pun intended). And he was incredibly supportive when it came to school. He graduated before me and began working; we moved in together and I eventually graduated as well. My Mom loved him immediately, especially when I began to tell her about our sex life. I went so far as to hint that she was more than welcome in our bed, but by then she'd found a steady boy friend and so we just traded some stories! His parents were wonderful.

Even through two kids, we kept up our sex lives. When I was swelled up and enormous, he still had friends to visit and play with -- friends who, after the babies were born shared baby sitting with us! As we raised the kids we were also gregarious swingers. With memberships in various clubs. Eventually I wound up writing a nationally syndicated column on sex and relationships as he made partner in his law firm. Both kids were in college when things changed.

Cancer. The word itself is evil and ugly. When Ernie was diagnosed, we did everything and anything we could to fight it. In addition to chemo we changed diets, took up yoga -- all the things people do to resist the inevitable. Sex was a casualty -- it became private and precious and soon we had withdrawn from everyone in our fight against it -- all to no avail. I lost Ernie and life became cold and empty I tried to put on a brave front with the kids, but they knew I was hurting.

It took some coaxing from basically everyone I knew before I took any steps to deal with things. My folks were now both gone. Ernie's Dad has passed and his mom was in another place and time with Alzheimer's. It was my editor, Caroline, who finally took me by the hand to a survivor's meeting. ("I'm running out of your material, and there are only so many times I can republish any given column. I need you back on the job.") There, amongst other women and men who had lost their partners, I began to process Ernie's death. I started telling myself the truth -- being numb was just keeping the pain in place, and keeping me from dealing with the twisted mental world where somehow I was to blame for his death. Not only that, since nothing I had been able to do kept him alive, I held myself as unworthy. The idea of sex without him repulsed me -- I couldn't keep him alive, so I didn't deserve to be happy, let alone sexually fulfilled.

I guess all that is material for some other story. In short, I came through the eye of the needle and emerged to resemble my old self in some manner. I was aching and raw and prone to tears at the least little thing -- but that was far better than numb and deadened, although it didn't always feel that way. Caroline got her wish -- I used my struggles as fodder for my writing. I found a deeper understanding of what makes people tick. It wasn't an overnight process, but I began to reach out to all the people who had known us both, who had come to his funeral and left messages that I hadn't returned or even acknowledged. I finally gave in to my son's urging and did a program he had been urging me to do even while Ernie was alive. That was where I forgave myself for being stupid enough to blame myself for not being able to keep Ernie alive. It was as if I suddenly got him back in my life and I began to once again appreciate life itself. My son will be forever welcome to his "I told you so."

Anyway, all this began with a gang bang, remember? I'm not sure I can detail how I got my sex drive back, but within two weeks of completing that program I found myself in bed with Helen, my oldest and best friend and her husband. They were wonderful -- I did more crying than anything else, but by the end of that weekend they were tears of joy. I did what I realized Ernie would have wanted me to do -- I enjoyed myself!

And then things progressed from there. More of our friends with benefits were happy to welcome me back to land of the living -- let alone the land of fucking and sucking. Where he and I used to talk about our sex with others, I took to writing about it as if I was telling him. It had a couple of benefits. First, it kept me aroused -- and that kept me alive! Second, I began to consider that maybe I could write and publish the stuff. I mean, why not?

So I began researching that -- what was now being written? I remember reading porn twenty five years ago, and it was almost universally written to get guys off. Women were merely plot devices. Surely, in the age of the internet things had changed. And indeed they had! I discovered Literotica -- a website with amateur porn of all sorts with thousands of stories in lots of categories. And I found that there was a burgeoning market for female authors. Romance was now being combined with hot sex, including everything from bondage to gangbangs.