Unexpected in Every Way

I was taking a trip across the country, and I needed a place to crash halfway to my eventual destination of Des Moines. There was a girl I knew a little, Shannon, who lived in Indiana, and I was hoping to stop at her place. I had only met her once, at a friend's summer place on a lake for one week. She had come along with yet another friend of mine, Tom. Tom had basically had a crush on her for his whole teenage years, but now that we were well into our 20s, it was clear to everyone but him that that was not going to happen, they were stuck in friendship mode. In any case, I had gotten along well with Shannon, and she had offered to let me stop by when I had mentioned my trip to her that week on the lake. But now that the time was actually approaching, I was nervous. I was never the most forward person about asking anyone for a favor, and was definitely at my least comfortable when it came to girls. I wasn't a virgin, but I was not exactly the most experienced guy in the world.

Shannon was cute, hot—not supermodel hot by any means, but when you're a normal guy, and you see a chick in a bathing suit for a week, you get to lusting after her no matter what. And she did have the looks to back up that lust no matter what the circumstances. She was short, maybe 5'4", a cute round face with big dark eyes, sweet full lips, and nice cheekbones. She had shoulder-length brown hair, a nice round, tight ass that packed her worn-out jeans well, and was in good shape—not skinny, but no extra weight, and perhaps most prominently, she had the feature that probably should have been first on this list: a fantastic rack, a heavy set of D-cup knockers that weighed down nicely on her chest, not saggy, just big and real and round. Her nipples were the object of my constant attention during our week on the lake—they were pretty long and stood out proudly through her swim suits, even though she wore somewhat conservative one-pieces. A one-piece is still pretty fucking hot if worn by the right girl in the right way, and I had spent half the week with a woody in the water, watching her tits bounce up and down, her ass saunter back and forth, and we all played and talked on the beach.

Yes, she was clearly the kind of chick that I was perfectly happy to jerk off about for weeks afterward. Asking if I could stay with her, however, was intimidating, even if she had already invited me, especially since there was the somewhat forbidden aspect of the whole situation, since my friend Tom was still secretly in love with her. It made me even a little guilty just to jerk off about her.

But I did need a place to stay, and even if I was a pussy and knew I would never actually hit on her, I also couldn't stand it if I didn't at least put in the minimal effort of talking to her again, so I called her up. She was totally glad to hear from me, perky even, and we set it up. I jerked off again just anticipating seeing her, knowing that was going to be as close as I would get.

I drove in a few days later, and knocked on the door of her apartment. She opened the door, and immediately I had a stiffy. She wasn't dressed in an obviously hot way, just a tight grey t-shirt and jeans, but that t-shirt was clearly showing off her best assets in a way that made it hard for me not to stare. She gave me a hug and was really friendly, touching my arm a number of times. She really seemed glad I came. We went out to dinner, and I was feeling like maybe something might happen after all, against all odds, at which point she dropped the info that killed off any of my anticipations: she had a boyfriend. He was away for the weekend, he wouldn't be back until tomorrow after I left, and he was sorry we couldn't hang out. Well, fuck, that sunk it. But we still had a nice dinner, and then went to a movie. We walked around a bit and she showed me the college town, and eventually I started to wonder again. What was the deal here? She kept looking at me in the eyes, kept touching me lightly. I'm no expert, in fact I'm a body-language idiot, but it seemed to me that she was sending signals.

When we eventually got back to her room, it was pretty late, so we got ready for bed. She dressed in a threadbare white t-shirt that hung just slightly below her crotch. The view of her long nipples brushing against that shirt, tits swinging around freely without the confines of a bra, gave me enough material for weeks more of jerk-off sessions. I was in a t-shirt and boxers. She got in bed, and I made as if to lay on the couch, but she suddenly said, wait, that couch is really uncomfortable, it's got loose springs, just come in the bed, there's no harm done, I've got a boyfriend, right?

What the hell. What was I supposed to do here? My cock clearly told me that I was supposed to jump up immediately and get in bed. However, my ethical side told me that I was possibly screwing over my friend Tom, not to mention her boyfriend Justin. And really, was my mind just playing with me? What if I got in bed and nothing happened, but I couldn't hide my hard-on, and it became obvious, would she kick me out? I was in a land of mixed signals from her, and mixed motives from my own brain. I said the couch would be fine. But she insisted, and after a few more back and forths, I got in bed with her.

I laid down, and she did too, facing each other, and we talked a bit. I had to put an enormous effort into not coming in my shorts right there. But after her big moves earlier, she seemed to change course yet again, and eventually we dropped off to sleep, with me turned around facing the side of the bed so as not to let her see my engorged cock.

A little later in the night, however, I felt some kind of soft crawling touch, and slowly re-entered the world of consciousness. A hand was slowly making its way across my side, slowly moving across my front, slowly making its way down to my hips, slowy—going inside my boxers! Her small hand lightly caressed my cock, feeling its column of flesh, touching my balls, and it was impossible for it to remain unresponsive. It slowly started to grow under her ministrations, and enlarged to its full size within a minute. Oh my god, I felt so goddamn good.

My full size, it should be noted, it not bad. I'm no porn star, but I've got eight inches under my belt, and it's thick as a paper towel tube. Basically, I may be a pussy, but I've also got a cock that the ladies love, if I ever get the balls to let them see it. So when I inflated to full size, I heard her gasp as she realized what she was holding. This wasn't just going to be a little fling when her boyfriend was gone, it was going to be something special. Little did either of us really realize at that point just how special.

She hesitated a second, not really sure what to do now. She may have originally just been thinking about a little feel-up, just to touch it, just to see, just to fuel her own masturbation sessions—nothing that would cross the line over into actual cheating. But now that the equipment turned out to be different than expected , she wasn't able to just let go. I've learned that a cock can have a certain magnetic force of its own. She started moving her hand up and down, a slow hand-job. I reacted by getting even stiffer. After a minute, precum started leaking out, and I got nice and oily. I didn't know what to do. If I let her know I was awake, she might get too startled, and stop!

Soon she did in fact stop. Oh god no. But she got up, out of bed, and crawled around to face me, knees on the floor. She gingerly pulled the covers down off me, and slowly, ever so very very very slowly, pulled my member out of my boxers, through the hole. Then she oh so very very very slowly put her mouth over the top of the head. Dante's visions in the Paradiso had nothing on me. I was beyond heaven. Her wet crevice of a mouth, a gingerly-moving sponge-like envelope, was an ungodly ecstatic experience.

The head was now entirely in her mouth. She mouthed it, slurped it with her lips, licked the bottom with her tongue, trailed the precum from the slit back into her mouth. She slowly, slowly, slowly moved the loose seal of her lips further down, the shaft slowly getting sucked in, getting wet, the head hitting the soft back of her mouth. She struggled for a moment. I had had a few blowjobs before, and nobody had gotten much farther than this. I was too thick. I could already feel the skin of her mouth tighten around the circumference of the shaft. But then, pop! it went into her esophagus, two whole inches in a split second. A brief gagging sound, a jolt, then slowly, slowly, slowly again she moved her way down. I lay there, stiff as a board, as she finally came to rest with her nose in my pelvis, my entire phallus engulfed in her mouth and throat. Oh. My. God. Because of the angle, it was even more impressive—I was basically sideways in her throat, the curve in my cock bending to the side inside her throat.

I could hear her breathing heavily through her nose. Then she started moving up and down, releasing and re-engulfing my member, a process so delicate and powerful, I couldn't hold back any more. I grabbed the back of her head with both hands and pulled, jamming her head as far down as it could go. Oh god yes, I moaned. I looked down, and her face was a mask of fright—for a second. She had been caught, and clearly felt guilty. But it obviously came to her a second later—what was she scared of? Me asking her to stop deep-throating me? It was more likely for a snowball to survive a blast furnace. She got a slutty, devilish grin—as much as she could, considering most of cheeks were stretched as tight as they could go around my cock—and started sucking. We both knew now that we were both going to have a very enjoyable night.

As her efforts redoubled, and moved from the slow, subtle, painfully skillful fellatio of a minute ago to a wild, energetic, suck job, my body became overwhelmed and a year's worth of sexual energy coursed through me. I grunted out that I was going to come, and I let go of her head, assuming that she, like other girls I had been with, was not going to want to swallow. She pulled her throat off my cock, as expected, but left the head in her mouth, at which point I erupted a volcanic amount of cum, filling her mouth almost immediately. The volume obviously surprised her, and her faced registered it, but her wanton lust shone through, and she swallowed the wet gobs of white slime down with a smile, then quickly pulled my cock out and jerked it off more on her face as it continued to shoot, letting my shower of sperm fly all over her cheeks, her lips, her nose, and her forehead. When my fountain finally turned off, she sat there on her knees for a minute, basking in the glow, one eye closed with a particularly large clump of cum. She looked like such a delicious slut, with wild hair, cum on her face and sluicing out of her mouth, reddened cheeks and lips, pupils dilated to the extreme, heaving chest from her heavy breathing, long nipples poking through her thin t-shirt, thighs spread so that I could now see that this whole time she hadn't been wearing any panties, showing off her parted wet pussy lips to my desirous eyes.

"Wow," she said, cum dripping from her nose down onto her waiting tongue. "I needed that. And I guess you did too—you must have been storing that load up for a long time! I hope you've still got some in there though, sport, because I'm just getting started."

I smiled and moved over. Cum was never a problem for me. I was always a big shooter, although that had been a big load even for me. I was pretty sure we were not going to have to worry about that well going dry, not with the sexual toolbox she clearly had at her disposal. I was a shy guy, I think that's clear by now, but once I got started, I was a pretty horny, dirty bastard. If cum was what she wanted, cum was what she was going to get. And what I wanted was to get me some of those tits that, up 'til now, had remained hidden.

To be continued...