*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor. No, I do not want an editor. If this fact bothers you that much, kindly stop reading now. Yes, there's too many people to keep track of, yes it jumps around too much, yes it's too long, yes it's too short, yes this is stupid shit and yes I am a horrible writer, hardly legible, barely literate.
This is a flash story.
Ayla Prejean said she was fat. She wasn't fat, probably had fifteen to twenty extra pounds on her. Since most of the excess weight was in her bubble butt and in her thighs, it actually looked good on her.
She had long carrot orange hair and a plethora of freckles all over her five foot three inch tall body. George had made her squeal with mock indignation when he suggested that she let him count all of them. That had been on their second date. He had lightly begun running a fingertip over her jawline and cute little pointed chin and then started counting the freckles he could see.
After her squeal and light slap, she had kissed him. It was a soft kiss, with promises of more.
The 'more' took another date with the adorable red head, some good marijuana and a fifth of Bacardi Rum. And he had tried his best to count her beautiful freckles. Even her pasty white buttocks were dusted with the reddish brown freckles.
George Austin was thrusting his seven inches into her as she knelt on his bed. Each stroke in caused her cute butt to jiggle. Each stroke back caused her tight pussy lips to pullout. It looked as if her pussy was reluctant to let go of his fat cock on his outstroke.
George took his left hand off of Ayla's hip and reached around to again play with her small breasts. This elicited a moan from her. He left her small bobbling breasts and travelled over her small belly to her sparsely covered slit.
"Oh know what that shit does to me," she grunted as he again flicked her clitoris with his finger.
He gathered some moisture on his finger and then brought it up to her tightly puckered rosebud. The reddish brown ring of flesh was crinkled as tightly as she could squeeze it.
"Oh, baby, what you doing?" she asked, but she knew what he was doing.
He began by worming the lubricated finger into her rosebud. The ring of flesh seemed to swallow his finger, like a mouth. He twisted the finger in her bowels, twisting and corkscrewing it around.
"Mm! Mm!" she groaned deep in her throat as another orgasm welled up in her guts.
George continued to push his cock into her snug pussy. He pulled his finger out of her ass. Then, when he pushed his finger into her ass, he pulled his cock out of her pussy. Her pussy had increased in pressure, as if she was trying to coax an ejaculation from him before he could work his fat cock into her tight little ass.
They'd been together for almost two years now. Ever since he'd come into Stolzle's Shoes where she was a part-time clerk and bought a 12EE construction work boot.
The first time he'd fucked her, he'd managed to pound her to three grunting, moaning orgasms. Then he had pulled his still quite hard cock out of her drooling pussy and brought it to her tight little hole.
"I don't, man, what you doing? I ain't never done that no," she protested, even though he'd been finger fucking her ass for two of her last three orgasms.
At first she protested, she whined, she begged him to stop. Then she'd stiffened and let out a guttural scream. She spent the next ten seconds grunting and shaking in orgasm.
Then, when her orgasm subsided, Ayla had implored him to fuck her, driving herself back to meet his forward thrusts. Her pussy had been quite tight, the nineteen year old girl had admitted she had not had much experience.
It was almost cute, how she tried to avoid anal sex, even though she liked it. Ayla had admitted to him, when they'd both smoked some really potent Acapulco Gold that afterward, she always felt like a cheap slut. Someone, probably her overly religious mother, had told her that only whores ever did anal sex. Oral sex was almost as filthy, as wanton.
George nodded his head in understanding. And, truthfully, Ayla was terrible at oral sex. She couldn't get her throat to relax enough; she could only get about four inches into her mouth before she started gagging. Violently gagging. And her teeth were always in the way.
She grunted in orgasm again when he'd worked a second finger into her anus. Then he pulled his cock from her pussy and aimed it at her ass.
Her pussy was tight. Her ass was excruciatingly tight. The first time he'd shoved his cock into her back door, his rod had actually bent nearly in half.
"Ugh!" she always grunted as if she was in true pain when his head forced into her back door.
George paused for a moment, thinking of the last Worlds' Series, inning by inning. Then he forced another inch into her.
"God, oh God, you, you're fucking killing me yeah," Ayla moaned.
Even as she protested, she was slowly pushing back against his invading cock.
"Then in the bottom of the fourth," George thought as more and more of his cock disappeared into her tight ass.
He did not look down. He loved the sight of his thick cock pushing in between the globes of her pasty white flesh, loved the sight of her brown ring stretching to accommodate his girth. But the sight was sure to bring his spunk bubbling to the surface far too quickly.
Then the scruff of his pubic hair was resting against her stretched and raw hole. They both shuddered and gasped for breath.
"Nuh uh, aw shit!" Ayla protested when George reached around and began playing with her wet pussy.
And in moments, he was driving his cock in and out of her ass. She was driving back to meet his forward thrusts. His fingers flicked at her clitoris until his balls tightened. Then he pinched her clitoris while his semen blasted into her bowels.
She gave a guttural scream as she could feel his warm semen jetting into her. She grunted and shook then moaned when his cock slipped from her aching hole.
George got to shaky legs, went into his bathroom and wet a face cloth. She was still grunting and gasping when he gently sponged her bruised looking anus clean of the dribbles oozing from her hole.
George then cleaned his soiled cock. He dropped the filthy wash cloth onto his nightstand and reached for a tightly rolled joint. He sparked it up and they lay back in his bed and smoked the joint.
"Oh, oh, how's that new bank coming?" she asked, letting a thin wisp of smoke out of her lungs.
"Fucking electrician's taking his sweet ass time putting in the fixtures," George complained. But can't put up the dropped ceiling until he's finished so we're all standing around with our dicks in our hands."
They kissed and George lightly played with her small breasts. Ayla hated that she only filled a 30A bra, but George told Ayla he thought her tits were perfect. They were also well dotted with freckles, and had large areolae and nipples that seemed always excited.
"Hey, I uh, you uh, you ever think about us, you know, getting married?" George blurted out.
"I uh, what?" Ayla asked.
