George texted me a few days after the gala. "I did what you wanted," his message read. "When can we get together?"
I gave him my address and some dates, and we settled on a weekday afternoon. That afternoon, Dylan called and asked if I would like to come over for an early supper and whatnot. "I'd love to," I said, "but I've got plans. I'll call you later tonight."
"What kind of plans?" he asked.
"George plans," I told him. "I'll tell you all about it later on."
When George arrived, he started excitedly telling about what had transpired the night of the affair. "Whoa, slow down," I admonished him. "Sit down, let's have a glass of wine and relax, and you can tell me the story."
George sat on the sofa while I poured two glasses of Chardonnay. I sat next to him and rested my hand on his thigh. He took a sip, and I said, "All right, let's hear about your night."
George put his glass down and began telling me about the night of the party. His wife was surprised by his suggestive remarks on the dance floor, but eagerly so, and she let him know it. At home, he had gone down on her, which was unusual for him, and between the novelty and her enthusiasm, had really gotten into it. She apparently had had five or six orgasms in about an hour, then she rolled George over on his back and climbed on top, swallowing his erection into her chubby vagina. She then had one more big one as he went off inside her, and now it seems she has a newfound respect for him.
George's story had begun to arouse me. I told him, "Well, keep after her, George. Don't let it fade, and hopefully you can keep things hot for a long time." I finished my wine and began unbuttoning my blouse as George stared, wide-eyed. When my breasts were bare, I took his hands and placed them below my nipples. My boobs are heavy, and they hang down, but they still point straight ahead, which Dylan loves to point out to me. George hefted them in his two hands and fondled my nipples, which began to crinkle. We stood up and I began undoing his trousers. When they were on the floor around his ankles, I started on his shorts, intentionally fumbling around a bit and reaching inside for a touch or two. When I finally lowered his underwear, his cock was hard, but small as I remembered from the gala, maybe three and a half or four inches, and his bush was sparse. His scrotum, however, hung way, way down, as if he'd been patiently stretching it for thirty years. I lifted his balls in my hand and imagined them slapping me on the ass. Then I grasped his little penis and kneeled down as I held it in front of my face.
I'm not a size queen. Don't get me wrong, I like a big dick as much as the next gal. But on a list of what's important, it's probably about Number 27. I've enjoyed men with all size penises, big and small. When they're large, I compliment them on it, which they love. When they're small, I don't tell them, "It doesn't matter," or, "It's big enough," because they know I'm lying. I find other things to compliment them on, their skill, their gentleness, their attitude. If there's nothing to compliment a man on, then I've made a mistake, and probably won't be seeing him again. But I'm never disappointed because a man has a little cock. So many men do. Dylan's penis is, of course, noticeably large without being huge, and he has the skill and gentleness as well.
I remember being with this Latin boy once. He was very young and very pretty. Slender, with black hair and no beard. His black pubic hair was neatly trimmed and had a sheen on it, and his penis was short and very thin, with an uncircumcised foreskin well past the end of his glans even when erect. When he climbed on top of me, he knew exactly where to put it and what to do with it. He used it like an artist uses a brush, like a master violinist uses his bow. He kept me right on the edge for the longest time, and when he finally brought me off, it was like rolling thunder. When I finished, I couldn't even move. I just lay there. He brought his limp cock right in front of my face, and all I could do was suckle on that foreskin.
I teased George's cockhead with my tongue, working the cusp on the bottom of the glans, and touching his pee hole. I licked circles around the head a few times, then took the whole shaft into my mouth and sucked deeply, while gently tugging his enormous sack. He let me work his dick for a while, and then I stood up again to slide off my slacks and panties. I placed his hand on top of my pubic bush, and said, "Okay, George. Do to me the same as you did to your wife."
I led him into the bedroom and he eased me down on the bed, parted my legs and knelt between them, and he started, very gently, to lick my vagina. He ran his tongue all over my hairy mound, went up and down my outer lips, and finally parted them and found my protruding clitoris, going all around and then lightly over it, up and down. He actually was quite good, and I became very wet as my arousal grew. He slid his hands under my asscheeks and pulled me to his face as he slowly increased the pressure of his licking. I began to feel little shocks running from my vulva down to my anus, which gradually grew stronger. Slowly I tightened up down there, and my clit swelled to the size of a fingertip. I rolled my hips around, trying to rub my pussy harder against George's mouth. Just as I approached my climax, I let go a huge squirt, getting George in the face, and then I came. Big and hard. And I came. And I came some more; it felt like it went on forever. The guy was good!
When my contractions subsided, George immediately went back to being gentle, but did not stop licking, avoiding direct contact with my button but going all over my labia and my vaginal opening. After a bit, he once again picked up the pace and the pressure, and kept it going until I exploded once more under his face. And then again. And one more time, the fourth orgasm leaving me completely wrung out, lying before him, my eyes shut and my weakened legs spread wide.
George crawled up my body and began sucking my left breast. I felt his little erection poking my thigh. I rolled over on my belly and forced myself up on my hands and knees. "Fuck my pussy, George," I groaned. "You said you wanted to put it in me. Let me have it. Fuck me good and hard. Fuck me all night." He climbed up behind me, put his hand on my ass, took his penis in his other hand and found my wet hole with it. One thrust and he was all the way inside me. He began pumping in and out, his heavy balls swinging against my mound. My clit, sensitive from all the earlier climaxes, began responding again and I felt my vagina start to clamp down, getting ready to come once more. George pounded me harder as I fucked it back at him. I squirted again, soaking his thin pubic hair, then let go an uncontrolled shriek, "I'm coming! Coming!"
