Simon and Becy

I'm Becky, I'm twenty-two, I'm Simon's partner and lover, and I want to make sure you hear some of our story in my words, so we've decided that I'll write some chapters and he'll write others. I'm the woman who 'seduced' him in Ch.01, and if you haven't read that, it wouldn't hurt if you did. I'll pick up the story about a year ago, the day after Simon and I met.

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After the trip hammer had finally stopped pounding away in my head, and after my mouth stopped tasting like carpet, I finally got around to thinking clearly about the night before. I had got well and truly smashed on a night out with a group of friends, and that after I'd promised to stay sober and drive them all home. I was going to have to go round and apologise. Most of them would still be at Jan's, where they'd had to sleep over because of me and I had to collect my car back anyway, so that would be the ideal opportunity. Not that I fancied that job very much.

I would also have to go and see Simon, who had been roped in to take me home. He was due a big thank you for acting as taxi, and also a very big apology for what I'd done on the way. He'd stopped to let me out for a pee, and by way of thanks I'd pretty much raped the poor sod. It was just that I was already feeling randy, and his accidental hand on my boob triggered such lust that I couldn't help it. I just had to have a fuck and I had no idea he was a virgin! I can see the look on his face now when I came on to him, it was sheer terror, not that the fact had registered through my drunken haze, all I saw was a potential shag. How I was going to face him now I had not a clue, but it would have to be done if only for my consciences' sake. He was a nice guy really, totally unlike the wanker I'd been going to bed with previously, and I felt guilty for what had happened.

I think I'm going to have to explain a couple of things, and then the rest of the story will make more sense. I don't know if you know about Simon's past, how he had the confidence with girls knocked out of him while at school, when a spiteful lying bitch put it about that he was a pervert, but if you do and I tell you a bit about me, you'll understand why such an apparently mismatched pair actually fitted well together.

So let me start by saying that I'd had a childhood sweetheart named Bill, who became my first love and eventually my first lover. One of the things that attracted me to him was his complete disregard for my feelings. I know that sounds stupid, but when you're young and naïve it's very easy to mistake arrogant selfishness for self confidence, and I regarded him and his swagger with awe. I've always fancied strong minded men, men who won't take no for an answer, men who take what they want from life as well as from their women. It's just that I couldn't differentiate then between thieves who take what they're not entitled to, and men who can take what they want because they've earned it. I'll let you figure out which camp Bill belonged in, though it took me a long time to realise it.

I remember that when I finally reached the age of consent Bill's seduction technique was to take me into his bedroom and inform me that he was going to make a 'proper woman' out of me. Foreplay was minimised, discomfort was maximised, and the pleasure was all his. From then on he treated me sexually as a receptacle for his spunk and nothing more. Yes, I admit that I enjoyed sex with Bill some of the time, As I have said, I like a forceful man and I didn't know any different, and so, having got over the pain of that first time, I soon began to respond to his attentions and orgasmed fairly regularly. I have no doubt now that had he taken the trouble to work on my pleasure a little more I would have orgasmed every time, and often a lot more than once.

I don't think I would ever have known anything different if it wasn't for a chance encounter in the local supermarket. I was wandering around the aisles, wondering what to buy to eat when I began to notice that a certain man was turning up nearly everywhere I went. He was a guy at least twice my age, with greying temples and a smartly dressed 'company director' look about him, if you now what I mean. The look he kept giving me was making my legs turn to jelly, it was highly sexually charged but without any obvious come on. A kind of discreet 'I want you and I think you want me' look. I couldn't help but give him a sexy little smile just to let him know I understood and agreed. Then, when I looked again, he had gone and both I and my pussy sighed with disappointment.

But that was far from the last I saw of him. As I walked from the checkouts to the car park he was waiting just outside the doors and approached me openly. His words were nothing if not direct, but they worked like magic.

"I think you and I would be brilliant together in bed. If you agree just follow me." With that he turned and walked across to a large limo, where he opened the door and held it back for me to enter.

I was like someone hypnotised, I followed like a lamb and without a single word passing my lips. I was so horny that I could feel my pussy literally running with juices and my nipples standing up and pressing hard against the inside of my bra. Now, I know that I was being stupid, that I could have been murdered or worse, but his self assurance melted me and I just could not resist. I put my shopping on his back seat, climbed in and waited, with my heart hammering from a mix of nerves and joyous anticipation. Somehow I knew that this was going to be a sublime experience.

We went to a local motel where we fucked for five solid hours. He was superb. He initiated everything, positioning me how he wanted me, going from one act of sex to another when he wanted to, and never once did he ask if it was ok. But the big difference between him and Bill was that he thought of my pleasure too. He seemed to know instinctively when something didn't do it for me and he moved on, and when he saw I really liked a particular act he kept it going. I don't know how often I came, but it was an eye-opening afternoon and one that turned my conception of sex on its head. I never knew his name but now I knew what true sexual confidence was.

When I got home I rang Bill and told him I didn't want to see him again. He laughed at me and said I'd soon be around begging, I laughed to myself and knew I wouldn't. Then I told him to fuck off, and our paths have not crossed since. My only regret was that I had wasted about three years of my active sex life on a jerk. I can actually be quite hard and self willed when the situation warrants it. But I did miss sex with a man and I suppose this was subconsciously an opportunity for revenge on men in general, and that's why Simon was so abruptly seduced. So you see, Simon and I have more in common that it seems.

If that makes sense to you, I'll go back to where I was in my story, and that was where I had to go back and see Simon the next day.

When I knocked on his door there was a bit of a delay before he answered and I very nearly chickened out, telling myself that I had tried and it wasn't my fault he hadn't answered his door. But whilst I was still wavering the door opened and he looked out, his face full of surprise at seeing me stood there, and it was too late for me to back off.

"Good God, Becky!" Shock was loud in his voice.

I'll give him his due, he gathered himself quicker than I did, and after his initial exclamation he silently waved me in, backing away from the door to let me past. This time it was me who hesitated, but I knew I had to talk to him, so in I went.

He ushered me through to the lounge then asked. "Coffee?"

"Yes please, white no sugar, and thanks."

He disappeared to make coffee and I tried to compose myself.

When he came back I thought I'd better take the bull by the horns and say it straight out. I took the coffee and then took a deep breath.

"I've come to apologise."

"What the hell for?" He was putting the cups down and looked genuinely surprised.

"For my behaviour last night." What else did he think it was for?

"Which bit of your behaviour do you have in mind exactly?"

"Don't make this hard for me." I was pleading a bit in case I bottled out. "I'm apologising for taking advantage of you and for preventing you from saving yourself."

"Saving myself? Oh! I see! You think I've stayed a virgin deliberately?"

Why else would he have stayed celibate until now?

It was at that point that he told me about his early problems with the vindictive girl and the effect it had on his life. Then he told me about how everyone then thought he was either gay or anti-woman because he could never pluck up the courage to try it on with a woman in case they laughed at him. I sat there stunned. I felt so sorry for him, and so angry with the stupid girl. I'd no idea about any of that and while a part of me felt good at having broken his duck, so to speak, another part of me felt guilty for belonging to the gender that could so thoroughly mess up a mans life out of spite. He finished off his story by telling me that the only thing I needed to apologise for was introducing him to a pleasure he might never enjoy again.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Well, so far the only woman who has ever wanted me to fuck her is a pissed up girl who is already spoken for, and she only wanted me out of lust. Where do you think I'm going to find another woman prepared to go to bed with the town 'saint'?"

"Well, thanks very much for the compliment. I don't go for any cock that's available just 'cos I've had a drink you know. In fact, for your information, yours was only the third cock ever to go up there!" I was livid, but he was suitably apologetic - I could see it in his face.

"Oh." He stumbled over his words. "Becky, I... I don't know what to say now, except sorry! I was feeling a bit hard done by."

"Anyway, what's this 'spoken for' bit? I'm single and very unattached I'll have you know." I don't know why I needed to say that, unless it was to let him know I hadn't been cheating on anyone. My anger was rapidly receding in the face of his 'little boy sorry' look. I went on to tell him a bit about my ex, and finished with "See? I'm free as a bird".

"I'm not getting much right, am I? But I'm sure that last night you were wearing an engagement ring, though I can't see it today, so I thought you had someone special."

"Special?" I snorted, thinking of Bill, and then the penny dropped. "Yes, I was wearing one, but that was only to stop men hitting on me when I'm out with the girls. A lot of women do that, just like some take their wedding rings off to attract men."

"So have you taken it off now to let men know you're available?"

For a moment I bridled at the remark and was about to give him a mouthful, but then I realised that the cheeky sod was actually flirting with me. I couldn't help but smile.

"I might be when my hangover has gone!" Two can play the flirting game.

"But you couldn't cope with a man right now then?"

"I couldn't cope with you right now, and that is a fact!"

His face fell like a stone and I suddenly understood just how fragile his ego was. He hadn't realised that I was talking about the size of his cock.

"I mean, not many women could take what you carry in your trousers without prior warning, could they?" I tried desperately to rescue things, but he just looked at me forlorn and uncomprehending.

"Now I'm not getting things right." I knew I'd have to explain properly, but I could feel my face warming with the embarrassment already.

"Simon. What I said wasn't having a go at you. It was just a silly remark intended to compliment you on your equipment." He was still looking lost. "When you fucked me last night I was surprised by how big you are. You're hung like a bloody mule, any man would be proud of what you have between your legs. I certainly enjoyed it!"

I hadn't intended to add that last bit, but it was true and it seemed to be what he needed to hear, for his face brightened and he smiled.

"So did I. But why, I'm only ordinary."

Now he was either fishing for compliments, or had no idea what 'ordinary' was. Much later I found out it was the latter. As his only experience came from watching men in porn films, he thought every guy was made like them.

"Oh no, it certainly isn't ordinary! If memory serves the average is supposed to be around six and a half inches, and you're way over that." My pussy guessed at about nine inches long and wide with it, beautifully long and very thick.

His face brightened some more but uncertainty still showed in his eyes. "Are you sure? I thought it was more."

"No, whatever folks might tell you, most guys don't have such big cocks. You are neither ordinary nor average."

Why was I letting myself get drawn into a discussion on the size of his penis? I was no bloody expert. Then I glanced down and saw a bulge in his jeans, the sight sending a sudden tingle through me. He had a hard on, and it was very clearly not average at all.

He saw where my eyes had gone. "I'm sorry, it's thinking about last night!"

I knew just what he meant. The memory of that fabulous cock inside me last night was having its effect, my breathing was not as in control as it should have been, my eyes couldn't keep from looking and my pussy couldn't stop wanting. Somehow I was going to have to find a way to enjoy it again.

"Well, while is good and hard, go get a tape measure and drop your jeans. We'll check just how big you really are." That came out on a sudden impulse, and I'm not sure which of us was more surprised, and of course it was really just an excuse to get hold of that cock again. He looked at me blankly until I repeated myself, squirming inside with embarrassment at my own bravado, then he dutifully went and fetched a tape measure and handed it to me. Then he stood and waited expectantly.

"For God's sake, do as your fucking told and drop them." The tone of instruction came out of desperation in case I chickened out before we did it.

Looking shocked at the language he automatically unzipped and then, hooking his thumbs into both jeans and boxers, he slid them down to stand naked from the waist down, his clothing pooled around his ankles.

"Sit down." He obeyed that instruction too.

Tape measure in hand I knelt in front of him, intent on settling the matter of size once and for all, mainly, it has to be said, 'cos I wanted to know just what I'd managed to accommodate the night before. Unfortunately, he was no longer fully erect; his gorgeous cock had flagged under the anxiety of exposure.

"Sorry." He said half heartedly, "Give it a minute and it'll be back."

Maybe it would, but I thought I'd like to be sure, so I reached out and took hold of it, softly running my hand up and down its shaft. My fingers rested only gently on his cock as I let them wander from glans to base, sometimes stroking with the pad of my fingertip and sometimes dragging my nails lightly across the sensitive parts. Simon groaned with pleasure, closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, more interested in the preparations now than the actual measuring.

God, the close up view of Simons weapon, and, yes, it did deserve that name, was doing wonders for me. My lust kicked in again and I felt my pussy begin to open and dampen ready for action.

A few minutes stroking and Simon's cock was ramrod straight and rock hard again, standing proud at full size and ready for the verdict. But even though it was unlikely to get any larger, I just had to try and I slowly lowered myself towards him, opening my mouth wide as I went. I could to take the head into my mouth without too much trouble, but there was no way I could take most of his shaft, so I settled for sucking and licking the head while wanking the rest of his shaft with my hand. Simon groaned louder and settled deeper into his chair. He was going to enjoy this no matter what, I could tell. I suppose I couldn't blame him after so many years of celibacy.

It did feel good having Simon's cock in my mouth again, I ran my tongue around the shaft, swirled it around the head and sucked hard, pumping as much as possible of him into my mouth. I wanted it back in my pussy, and I was determined now that I was going to get it too.

It didn't take long before Simon's breathing started to become erratic, so I stopped before it was too late and reached for the tape. I was impressed with the results. He measured eight and a half inches in length and five and a quarter inches in circumference, which is pretty big regardless of what you're told. Any woman who doesn't find that to be enough must have a bucket for a cunt.

"And is that good?" He asked, still breathing rather heavily, when I told him what he measured.

"Oh yes, good enough for most women I'd say, and certainly enough for me."

"Oh, now that's promising!" Simon was grinning lewdly. He was beginning to come out of his shell a bit, perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

"Now, where was I?" I still had my hand wrapped around his shaft, so I pointed his tip back at my face and opened my mouth. This time as it entered I knew I wasn't going to let it leave until he came in my mouth. I'd never given Bill a proper blow job. True he'd cum in my mouth, but it was through him holding my head still and fucking my mouth rather then me working on him. Now I was going to make a man cum my way.

Simon leaned back with a groan and let me get on with it; did he ever want to take an active roll? This time I wanted to do a good job, so I ran my tongue around his head to liberally coat it with saliva and then used my hand to spread the saliva down his shaft. When the whole thing was wet and shiny and slippery I began to suck him off with long slow nods of my head and long slow strokes with my hand.

There was no way I was going to get all of him in my mouth, but I did do quite well, taking a little more each time until I was handling, or is that mouthing, the head of his cock and several inches of his shaft. That was enough and I was gagging a little each time it hit the back of my mouth – I had not yet learned the art of deep throating. Even so, it was a beautiful feeling, and he must have agreed, because his eyes were closed, a little smile hung on his lips and he began a tiny and very gentle up-thrust with his hips to answer my mouth descending his cock, very nice it was too.

My free hand had been resting on his thigh, but after a little while I used it to fondle his balls, laying my hand under his scrotum and rolling the contents of his sac back and forth over my fingers. That felt fabulous too, it was as if I was getting a tactile preview of the spunk that would soon be pumped down my throat. I was feeling very, very randy by now and longed to feel him shoot off into my mouth, and that was something that I sensed would not be long.

I got more warning this time than I expected, mainly because I felt his balls tighten in my hand as they got ready to fire, and so when he did cum I was able to deal with it. Not that it was easy, he came like a fire hose, pumping spurt after spurt of his lovely thick jizz into my mouth, but I never spilt a drop. To cope I had to pull back just a little to make room, and then swallow as much and as quickly as I could. Even then his flood threatened to overflow through my lips and down my chin on more than one occasion. But it was good, so fucking good. The flavour was somehow more wholesome than Bill's, as if it was fresher, creamier, and altogether tastier. It was also thicker and there was more of it, a good heavy mouthful of fabulous man cream. I wanted more, and I sucked and milked his cock until I was sure I'd got every last drop.

Simon didn't try and ram his cock down the back of my throat when he came, as I half expected. Instead he just went rigid in the chair, gripping hard onto the arms, and let out a single long animal like cry. I hoped his neighbours didn't hear, they couldn't have been used to that and might have come round to check everything was ok.