The Art of Jealousy

Hey all! Here's a little one-shot I did that I hope will please my more down-to-earth fans. I've been doing a LOT of stories lately that are downright absurd, and while I love writing them and love the fans that love them, it was nice to get down to merely unbelievable sizes (as opposed to impossible) for a change. As always, please contact me with comments, complaints, and questions via the contact info in my profile page here. I hope you enjoy!

*****

"Maybe I don't fucking CARE what you think it represents, did you ever consider that!?" I knew I was shouting, but I just couldn't help it, if I didn't shout I could have clawed his eyes out, and that's just rude.

Luke glared at me, his mouth opening and closing until he set his jaw in a tense tooth-grinding clench. "Well I'm sorry if you don't like that I have thoughts about your art, Danielle, but news flash, everyone is going to have thoughts, and you have to get used to it. Besides, I said I liked it! What's the problem!?"

Luke and I had been dating for a year and living together for about six months. For the most part, it worked well. He was willing to put up with my messiness, willing to give me my space, and when I needed him, he was there with a kind word, a gourmet home-cooked meal, and of course, that tall hot body with the lean swimmers muscles that just made me swoon. But we did fight on occasion, especially about art, and I'll admit I'm probably not always reasonable there, but when you get close to something I've painted you're poking a cub with a stick right next to momma bear.

"That's NOT the POINT!" I spat in response, throwing up my hands with an exasperated groan before I stormed out of the room. Who was he to tell me he thought my work had fucking "spirit" and "a deep understanding of how to fully contextualize the subtlety of light" for fuck's sake? Even if Luke were the greatest art critic the world had ever seen that still wouldn't mean any of his words had weight with me; my work would always be some indescribable part of my soul, and any attempt to put it into words is to already drag it all down to a level it should be above.

It didn't help that this fight came right on the heels of another series of spats in which he chewed me out for not cleaning, and I tore into him for not communicating with me about being out late with his friends. It's not that I care if he wants to do that mind you, I'm not some jealous cunt, I just don't like that for some reason he feels like it's not important to tell me that he's going to do it.

As I cleared the threshold of my work-room into the living room, Joe looked up at me from where he sat on the couch. Joe was our other roommate, surprisingly he was even taller than Luke, but also more filled out, with broad, powerful shoulders, a deep, potent chest, and a square jaw that was usually speckled with stubble. While Luke works in an office, Joe is in construction and the constant heavy labor shows in the corded muscles that surround his stockier frame.

I'll admit I was in a pretty vindictive mood; I wanted to hurt Luke when he inevitably gave chase so I crossed the room, put my hands to his spectacular biceps, and helped myself to a surprisingly comfy seat in his lap.

"You don't mind, do you? I just wanted to feel protected for a change," I said the last part just loud enough that was sure Luke could hear.

Joe's eyes went wide a moment, then he frowned, "Hey, I don't wanna be part of something between you and Luke. Besides, you're kinda making my leg go to sleep." Was he making a crack at my weight!? I might have a big round butt and a decent pair on me, but I work hard to keep things TIGHT.

Still, my weight could be better distributed in his lap, so I shifted my butt over, settling down and pulling his wrists to rest those rough hands on my hips. I barely registered all that in my anger, but then something DID cut through the veil of rage.

"Oh, do you wanna take that out of your pocket?" I shifted a little, unsure what he could have that felt so soft and long along his thigh.

Joe's face flushed and I might have caught the tiniest smirk in spite of his protests, "I uh, I don't have anything in my pocket." That deep voice resonated through my body.

It couldn't be, could it? I squirmed a little. I've felt a penis or two in my day and this was like that, but it didn't feel right because it was simply too large. If I didn't know better I'd swear he'd crammed a soft dildo or a roll of socks into his underwear, but then it gradually dawned on me. What I was sitting on was...warm. Alive. So so HUGE.

It startled me a bit and I was about to stand up when Luke finally entered. He didn't look angry; his head was a bit low, his eyes downcast with his hands clasped together. He was clearly about to apologize, until he raised his head to meet my gaze and saw that I was sitting on our hunky roommate.

"Danielle, I... What the Hell are you doing?"

My eyes met his and I gave a deliberate little wiggle, grinding my ass onto Joe's lap; I could feel that unused tool pulse ever-so-slightly, beginning to swell beneath my butt. What had Joe been hiding all this time!? "I'm getting comfortable with someone who had never once felt the need to pack my work into a tiny little box."

Luke groaned, "Oh come on Danielle, this is pathetic. What a transparent attempt to make me feel jealous!"

"You're right," I said, putting both my arms around Joe's neck, my double-D cups just below his nose at this angle, the tight tanktop low-cut so I was giving him an eyeful. "I'm obviously trying to make you feel jealous. Now tell me it isn't working."

With the move and the display of boobage Joe's lap got more interesting, the ridge of flesh I was sitting on now feeling like it might almost make it to his damned knee, the thick tip of it easily as big around as a can of soda. I was getting very distracted from my mission, because, well, this THING was just plain distracting. I could feel my tits get tight, heart pounding the insides of my ribcage, breath quickening.

Joe finally groaned, kind of winking at me with a look that said, "You OWE me," as he played along, grinding me into his lap with his brawny arms a bit, making things as hard on Luke as possible.

Luke's shoulders slumped in defeat, "Yeah. It's working. You're just so beautiful, it hurts to think of you with someone else." He turned on his heels and went quietly into our room; not angry, just clearly sad.

His words raked through my heart like a knife; the bastard always knew the right thing to say and I was stung with guilt over what I was trying to do... twice as guilty that I had actually been starting to get into it... TRIPLE guilty that when I leapt up from Joe's lap to cut myself off from his magnetic pull I could not only see the tremendous bulge I was leaving behind, but a clear stain of liquid as well. Even with me angry, Joe had gotten me wet; yikes.

"I... Uh. Later, Joe," I stammered out before fleeing back to my studio. I looked at the painting that had started the whole fight and ripped the canvas apart, destroying it utterly. I know I don't have the best control over myself at the best of times, but it still hurt every time I lost it like that, and now my minimalist color-study would only serve to remind me of this fight, so there was no point to it anymore.

After the destruction, I decided to zen out with more work and put a new blank canvas to my easel. I just played with the paint really, not letting myself think about what I was doing, just splashing color around and paying no attention to shape or form, letting subconscious thought and muscle memory take over in how I attacked the tabula rasa before me.

I lost track of time, but could feel fatigue overtaking me and finally joined Luke in the bedroom, curling up next to his sleeping form to fall asleep instantly. My mind wouldn't let go of Joe's lap though. Thoughts of that massive shape, that powerful, primal attraction crept back into my thoughts as I began to drift off. What was wrong with me? What seemed so right about Joe?

The next morning I woke up alone; that wasn't because of the fight, Luke often rises early while I'm still sleeping. Bleary-eyed I crawled out of bed in one of Luke's shirts that nicely covers my 5'5" frame and flows awkwardly around the curves of my 36-23-36D-cup body. I took a moment as I brushed my teeth to make eye contact with myself in the mirror, the blue still looking a bit sharp after last night's crying. I tied my brown hair back in a pony-tail before heading out of our bedroom.

Luke apparently heard me as I stalked into the living room and called to me from my study,

"Morning, hon. I've got coffee." I knew there was a reason I still loved him.

I walked in to join him, finding him with a bemused smirk on his face as he handed over a piping-hot mug, still looking at the canvas I'd been working last night.

It wasn't an illustration, but there was no mistaking that what I'd drawn was big and phallic, far from the usual kinds of subjects I depict.

"So uh..." he said through that little smile, "THIS is a departure."

Part of me flared up in a panic, like a kid busted with stolen candy. I felt the need to misdirect him and in my mind that meant only one option.

"Well I've had something on my mind..." I said as I abruptly sank to my knees before him, setting my coffee aside and freeing his morning-wood from his pants.

Luke's gasp of surprise almost instantly turned into a groan of pleasure as I sucked his cock. But even though I'm damned good at worshipping a penis when I want to, I found that my heart really wasn't in it. I'd never given Luke's 5 or 6 inch length a lot of thought, but suddenly, with Joe's monster floating through my brain, the thing seemed, well, small. I bobbed my head on it, glucking and sucking my way through what turned out to be a very short blowjob, immediately sipping the coffee after Luke spasmed his load into my mouth; I like my cream with coffee apparently.

Luke was pretty dreamy with me the rest of the day. He had that sort of smug yeah she wants me swagger to him, and I couldn't really blame him for that. Any man getting serviced with a blowjob first thing in the morning has to feel like he's the kind stud of cock mountain, but of course, the only cock I was thinking of hung between the legs of Joe. Luckily, I was free of the temptation most of the day; Joe left early and was at a part of his current project where he tended to stay late at his work site, so I went through the usual paces with Luke.

In the evening we went out to a nice dinner and then saw a movie; I barely noticed the picture of course, I was still obsessed. When we got home there was some quick, pump-and-slump sex with Luke; my morning performance had clearly taken some of the libido out of him and his efforts were mercifully weak and short as a result. Afterwards, as I lay in the dark I found myself tossing and turning and even sometimes touching myself a little. As I got more and more frustrated with the lack of sleep and the horniness that wouldn't leave my brain alone, I realized that I had to put an end to this; that I had to confront Joe and put this sexual tension to bed once and for all. It was simple; we'd talk, we'd get it out in the open, and I'd finally be free and able to carry on with my life.

With Luke snoring soundly, I crept from bed and slipped my robe on, making my way down the hall to Joe's room. I didn't knock, simply stepping swiftly inside to minimize noise. Joe was still awake and he set down the book he'd apparently been reading when I came in.

"Danielle," he said in that bass voice of his, his tone confused at my sudden appearance.

"Joe..." I said, not even totally sure what I was doing. I got to the foot of his bed and knelt down, drawing his covers slowly down, making eye-contact with him the whole time. Once the blanket was gone all the remained between me and the enormousness that I'd felt before was a pair of black silk boxer-shorts. I reached up and grabbed the leg-hole of one side between my finger and thumb, slowly tugging that down just as I had the sheet.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked, starting to smile a little despite himself.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. The base of that meat finally came into view, a thick root attached to his body just beneath those nicely sculpted abs. As I got the boxers lower it was curved slightly where the bulge of the humongous balls it rested on elevated the middle of it slightly, the head drooping down beneath to touch the bed. Dead soft it was easily an inch or two longer than Luke was hard. I stared at it a long moment before adding to what I'd said a moment earlier, "I don't know what I'm doing, Joe. But I do know what I want."

I crawled up onto the bed, moving slowly as I straddled his legs and made my way up his body, leaning in to abruptly kiss him right on the lips. Joe was clearly struggling a little; he liked me, but he didn't hate Luke, his shocked, open eyes were conflicted. I put a stop to that, grabbing his wrist to put one of his hands on my big left boob as I used my other to seize a meaty handful of his pendulous balls, scooping them awkwardly onto my palm even though they overflowed it by a bit.

That made the decision is for him, he growled softly and closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss. We made out like that a bit, his big mitt mauling my tits while I massaged and gently squeezed his nuts, rolling them around, testing their impressive heft. I don't know if they were heavy because they were especially cum-filled or if it was just the massive size difference, but they were in a whole different weight-class than Luke's little grapes. I would definitely have to investigate them further...

I slid my body down, dragging my tits on his face, down his muscular chest and stomach before finally resting the big pair on his thighs so I could get access to the balls I was massaging. I cradled them in my palms and bent low, kiss-licking them all over. They were so meaty and big and heavy, my tongue could scarcely believe that a man could taste this good! He groaned softly, "Oh FUCK, Danielle I've been dreaming about this ever since..."

I sucked a huge nut between my lips and let it burst from my mouth with a slobbery pop, "...Since I sat in your lap the other day?" I sucked the other, rolling it around a little longer than the first before releasing it too.

"No. Ever since I first laid eyes on you." He groaned as I fought to get both those monster-nuts in my mouth. Something about it felt so nasty, so raw, and so RIGHT. Why wasn't Luke built like this? Why wasn't Luke a real man? I went a little too far, one of those fat orbs big enough that its oblong end entered my throat and hit my gag-reflex, making me abruptly retreat, coughing both balls out in a sea of slobber. I nuzzled his wet sack, smearing my makeup on it as I caught my breath.

"Joe, you're so... so BIG!" I whimpered, kissing the big nuts over and over and over, adding more lipstick to mingle the mascara I'd just left there.

He chuckled, grabbing the base of his dick and gently tapping my cheeks with it, like he was either getting my attention or applauding my efforts, "Not gonna lie, you're not the first to say that. I'm beginning to think it might be true." I put my hand above his on his cock, seeing there was room for more. He topped me, putting another hand above mine, and I put one above that; his hands were big so our four hands together just about exactly covered the thick organ, but it was insane to think of it fitting that many!

"Just how big is this monster!?" I finally asked.

"Thirteen inches long, six-and-a-half around the thickest bit," he said proudly, taking his hands off of it so I could just stroke its magnificence a few times, shaking my head and marveling at the huge meat.

"Unbelievable," I said, "but probably not as unbelievable as it's going to feel!"

"Only one way to find out," he said with a chuckle.

"I have to earn it," I said stubbornly, bending to start licking at the cockhead, loving the taste of it every bit as much as those balls.

"What do you mean?" He asked, blinking.

"Joe, I USED you the other day. I was just trying to make Luke jealous, and on top of that, I left you confused about what the hell was going on in the process."

"So?" He really was a simple man, but then again, a MAN.

"So I'm going to give you the epic fucking blowjob you deserve. You can just sit back and enjoy it!"

He got the goofiest grin, folding his big paws behind his head and leaned back, spreading his legs a bit wider to give me access, "Not gonna lie, pretty hard to argue with that!"

I was determined to show him what I could do. I noticed to start with he was already leaking a big bead of precum; I put two fingers to it and just smeared it around his head, lubing the big prong-top up for what was to come next. I realized his shaft might want some too, so I seize him just beneath that head and squeezed and tugged, milking more of the hot slop out to stroke down his shaft, getting him glazed in a layer of his own sauce.

I formed my mouth into a soft-lipped 'O' and lowered down over his head, not sucking yet, not going deep, just letting my lips roll over his crown again and again, peeling and unpeeling them over his wetness, letting myself drool freely to add plenty of my own; I've never met a man who didn't like his blowjobs extra sloppy, and Joe was clearly no different from the way his breath caught in his throat, the feeling making him shudder a bit with pleasure.

Finally I introduced my tongue to the party, fluttering it along the part of him in my mouth, coaxing out yet more juice as it grinded against him. I've sucked more than a few cocks in my day, but this was different, his sheer girth made my usual motions a lot more difficult, but also had the benefit of teaching me new tricks, like spreading the flat of my tongue around him as it just smooshed around from pressure. My eyes were astounded too by the sheer amount of dick left to suck; there was no way I was fitting all of this thing.

Was there?

I clearly wasn't the only one contemplating this question. Joe lost control or patience or both and had suddenly tangled his fists in my hair, shoving me down as he thrust up a bit. I gagged hard thinking he'd just about done me in with that, but after the gag I found myself reflexively swallowing, throat coaxing inch after fat-ass inch deeper inside. I slapped his hips; it was just fear instinct, I don't think he was hurting me, but he stopped, letting me realize that I could breathe through my nose and stay down.

I reached up, hands playing at my mouth where his thick cock was jammed between my thick lips, then walked my fingertips lower, feeling the immense bulge of him in my throat, the line of it going all the way down to where my collarbone began. There were inches still left unsucked at this point, but I didn't want to push my luck. I squeezed at that bulge, choking myself a little but bringing a shocked moan from him, "Oh fuck! I've never been wanked in a throat before!" he practically sobbed. Of course I wasn't really wanking him, but I was happy he was enjoying.

Slowly I drew back, unthroating the massive cock with a nasty wet cough that left a big mess on his big nuts; I eagerly lapped that up before looking up at him, "I could suck this all night Joe, and I will if you want me to, but..."

He laughed a little, stroking my cheek with one of his big mitts as he greedily fondled a tit with the other, "But you wanna know what my big dick feels like inside of you. Is that it?"

"Uh-huh," I whimpered, unable to have put it any better myself

He grabbed his glistening meat by the base and leveled it upwards to give me a mounting point, but I shook my head as I put a hand to his glorious chest, "Oh no, I've been a complete bitch, so you're going to take me like one."