Does size really matter? If I hear that stupid question one more time I'll scream! YES!
Of course size doesn't matter! It doesn't matter if the length of your erect cock is 5 inches or 10; it all comes down to that big, sexy, erogenous zone between your ears, ok?
That being said, I am one of those 'Size Queens'. So for me, it all comes down to that big, sexy, piece of meat between your legs.
I crave big cocks. I need a big fat prick regularly or I go insane. So I flirt a lot, and propose a lot. I get a lot of positive answers and I guess I'm lucky since I get a lot of great lovers.
But not all of them have what I really need. Evidently some do, so I leave them my number.
I have been asking myself for a while: what if there was a way I could know for sure the man I'm about to fuck has a nice big prick... besides asking him -of course he'll say yes he's not that dumb!
And I found a way: the wonderful wicked web. So many meat markets online... I was sure there would be one suitable for my needs so I hunted and recently found one.
I started chatting and emailing a couple of men and Richard caught my attention. Figures, with a nickname like his...
When he (finally!) sent me a picture of his cock, I knew I had to have it! We set a date to meet and fuck. I didn't want (still don't) all that getting-to-know-you-better-let-me-buy-you-flowers-oh!-you-look-so-beautiful-in-the-pale-moonlight-the-sun-is-nothing-in-comparison romantic stuff.
But I digress. Which I do often, and which I enjoy doing just to see if you're paying attention. Of course I don't want to lose your attention either so I'll get back to the point.
I had a feeling Dick (oohh such a nice name) wouldn't be the last of my online conquests so I labeled him 'Number 1'.
We were to meet in a park, after the lunch hour rush. Dick is a lawyer and conveniently could take an afternoon off to 'work from home'. At least that's what he told me.
I was pleased when I saw how elegant he looked in his dark suit, sitting on a bench near a fountain. I licked my lips and swayed my hips a little more than usual.
He stood when he saw me, a big grin on his face, and extended his large hand. He was tall! And handsome. I wondered if his wife knew what he was about to do...
I shook his hand and inhaled his cologne. "L'eau D'Issey..." I smiled appreciatively.
"You have quite a nose," he replied with a deep voice that got me thinking about all the dirty things he would be saying soon.
"The scent brings back memories," I sighed and waived, wanting to get through the chitchat quickly.
He surprised me and grabbed my hand, directing it on his crotch. His cock was limp but the gesture got my blood boiling nonetheless.
"That's what you want, isn't it?" he stated.
I curled my fingers and fondled his balls over his expensive pants, looking into his eyes, biting my bottom lip, nodding.
He impressed me when he took me by the hand and quickly walked me to his car. His steps were huge and purposeful. I almost needed to run to keep up with him. I hoped he would fuck me the same way: not fast, but with passion and want.
He opened the door of his brand new Sedan for me. The smell of leather seats was exhilarating. God I love leather! He quickly took his place in the driver's seat and started the silent engine.
I was so hot I hiked my skirt up my thighs a bit. Dick glanced at me as I spread my legs and slowly stroked my firm flesh.
"Don't tease, Alexandra," he warned.
I just giggled and undid the first button of my pink blouse.
He licked his lips and sighed. His cock was getting hard. Good. I unbuttoned my blouse a little more and reached inside to brush a thumb on my hard nipple.
I wasn't wearing a bra and the warmth of my hand felt so good on my perky tit. I opened my blouse and exposed my ample breasts.
He was good, driving as if his cock was limp. Even his face was not showing how excited he was. But the tent in his pants was betraying him.
I squeezed my tits and moaned. "Where are you taking me, Dick? Are we there yet, Dick? Do you like my tits, Dick?"
I guess he got tired of my fooling around as he reached over and stuck his hand on my pussy. I wasn't wearing panties (eh! Why bother with underwear when you obviously know it won't be appreciated) and his hand parted my lips instantly.
He roughly rubbed my pussy and let out a low, eager growl. I liked how he took charge. He was not one of those pussies with no spine afraid of me or intimidated by me.
He was a bit boorish I admit, but I admired his spirit when he turned into a back alley and parked. Something from being in an expensive car in a deserted alley, about to get a nasty fuck drove me wild.
Him too, apparently, as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his fat cock.
I didn't pounce on his cock right away. I was mentally evaluating how big he was. I licked my lips, reached for my Vuitton and pulled out my tape. I just had to measure that dick!
He gasped as I carefully unrolled my measuring tape and meticulously took his measurements. He nervously laughed when I commented, "Not bad... 27.5 centimeters."
Sure, he kept bragging his dick was 12 inches, not 11, but I didn't make a big deal out of his exaggeration; he was still big enough.
"You wanted it, you got it. Now suck my cock, slut!" he said, slapping his meaty dick on the palm on his hand.
He reached over, grabbed a handful of my dirty blonde hair and pulled my head on his lap.