My first foray into writing with the "Those Eyes" series was fun enough that I wanted to tackle this idea for another story that I've had. A big "Thank You" to those who provided positive and supportive feedback on my other submissions...that is what fueled my effort and commitment to authoring this.
I'm submitting this as one long story in respect to a couple comments about the "Those Eyes" series. It was much harder for me to write in this fashion but now that it's done I'm glad it is in a single story format.
I really put my personality into this one and those who read any of "Those Eyes" know I like to inject humor, pop culture or whatever other mainstream references I can to really personalize the story and bring it and the characters to life. I hope that it makes it as enjoyable for you as it is to me.
PLEASE NOTE: All characters in this story are 18 years old. There is some history and backstory provided by the main character about occurences happening prior to his 18th birthday but all sexual encounters and/or any other interactions of a sexual nature described or detailed in this story take place between adults.
I did my own editing (Which seems the fools errand. Haha) but it's done and any remaining errors are all mine. Please read past them and enjoy!
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THE STORY OF "CUE"
"Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet.
Little Miss Innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah."
From the song Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard
When I finally pulled my spent cock from her I looked down on that incredibly taut athletic ass, and seeing our mixed fluids start dripping from her swollen pussy lips, I couldn't help but pause and admire the view.
She rocked forward off her knees and lay down fully on the bed, rolling to her side and pulling up into an almost fetal position. I say almost because I'm not sure her 6' 4" height allowed her to tuck into a full fetal. But she curled up as much as she could and I watched her legs continue to spasm periodically out of rhythm with the soft moans that were still escaping her mouth. Part of the erratic breathing she seemed unable to control.
Damn. That was an experience. She was an experience. And the trust she had put in me to make our get togethers an experience for her was not lost on me. Looking at the state of her now, following the "marathon" we had just completed together, made me believe that I'd fully lived up to the trust she'd given me.
I'm not sure when she'll be coherent enough again to validate that belief, though. She is pretty much a puddle of goo right now...and truthfully, I wasn't far from that myself. I may need to reassess my ability, and stamina level, to meet the needs of girls less than half my age.
Ha ha. Shit. Is that really something I'm going to give serious consideration to? No fucking way. No chance in hell.
If you looked on the correct university volleyball team roster, the girl laying there is #11, a middle blocker from Altadena, CA who is just starting the spring semester of her junior year in college. To me, she's just Hanna. A really, really sweet and sexy girl.
And did I mention her fine as fuck ass? Like many tall women, her facial features are a little longer than most but hers not egregiously so. Her elongated face and naturally curly hair gave her a kind of regal air with a classical look and from there on down it is just slender, athletic and finely tuned. Even her mid-sized breasts seemed firmer than what you'd expect.
Me? I just turned 46 and up until a few months ago I was content being the sad, lonely face in the crowd. A loner wallowing in my own pity. That's who I had been for almost two decades. But it all changed following a chance encounter with someone from my past. A meeting that has me again looking forward to getting up each morning and wondering, "What's next?" Or maybe, "Who's next?" Ha ha.
A crazy turn of events for sure.
As my life now seems to be going a hundred miles and hour, I feel compelled to at least try and organize my thoughts, write shit down and start keeping a record.
This isn't meant to glorify my current actions or as a way to brag, even though I'm sure it can't help but come across as self-indulgent as fuck. But it truly is intended to help me keep the record of events straight in my head since it seems at times I no longer have control, or can maintain an accurate account in my mind, of all that's happened recently.
No complaints from this end, though, because life is good. So fucking good.
"Glory days, well they'll pass you by
Glory days, in the wink of a young girls eye."
From the song Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen
There's definitely some background that needs provided to hopefully help all of this make sense. Not make sense rationally, because my current situation is a total mind fuck. Just background to provide context for how this situation even came about and why it happened to me.
In a nutshell, the "why" is easy. My name is Michael Rairdon and am generally known by my family and the other adults in my life as "Mick". A nickname since I was a young boy that my dad gave me while I was being silly one day. Strutting around like Mick Jagger lip-synching to "Brown Sugar" from the Stones. My dad would play his music WAY too loud out in his garage while tinkering on whatever shit a guy can come up with to avoid being cornered by his wife to clean the attic or take out trash.
Standard middle class up-bringing. Nothing particularly special in my experience growing up until later on. The period of 15 through 18 years old is definitely a part I'd like to forget. In fact, I've now successfully run from it for 30 years. But like most crap you keep shoving away in a closet, eventually the door gets opened and all of it dumps right back out at your feet.
Football two-a-days going into my sophomore year was when the largest anomaly of my otherwise "slightly above average" self were revealed to me. To everyone, really. A six foot two inch frame at the time with 200 pounds of lean but well distributed muscle made up my physique. I'd always been on the bigger side as a kid and the trend continued as I matured.
Dark, shoulder length hair that my dad tolerated was on my head. Ice blue eyes and a strong jaw graced my face, along with a pretty quick wit and a reasonably intelligent brain to fill my head.
Decent grades, better still at sports and enough social skills to get and maintain some pretty good friendships. No complaints.
But the locker room in football late in that summer is where that critical difference was determined and started derailing what was left of my youth.
See, my dick wasn't like the other guys. It'd had a growth spurt all its own since my freshman season and I'd also sprouted additional hair all over, even started shaving.
Apparently, my buddies on the team didn't share all the same results coming out of puberty. For all I knew at the time, we'd all have our equipment hanging differently once we left our freshman locker room behind and moved up into a varsity locker. Not the case. At all.
And the first to point out the discrepancy just happened to be a kid I didn't really like. Jake Tucker. His dad was the produce manager at our local grocery store where he also had a part time job. Anyway, as I'm going into the shower he's coming out, sees my new equipment and yells out for everyone to hear, "JESUS, MICK! YOU GOT A CUCUMBER DANGLING!"
Couple of hasty glances from me to the guys who were already in the showers that had turned to look at what the yelling was about quickly revealed to me that there obviously was a difference. And while I wanted to punch Jake for making a scene, it was clearly a justified observation. I was now packing something entirely different than the other guys.
That was the day when my life irrevocably began to change. Not just the big dick revelation. Everything. Just over a month later, dad was killed when his jeep got rear-ended by a semi truck hauling furniture...or appliances...or some shit.
Eight months after that, mom got a new husband who had no interest in me. I was happy to not give a crap about him either. We kept our distance and I lived the remainder of high school life without much in the way of parental supervision or restraint. No worries though, because I had no desire to be a knucklehead.
But besides coming to grips with my new family and all of the emotional turbulence, there was still the big dick thing. Of course it didn't stay within the confines of locker room. Idiots blab. And over the next couple of weeks following the revelation, the nickname "Cucumber" was bestowed upon me which quickly got shortened to just "Cue". That moniker stuck.
So all around school, boys were calling me "Cue"...and more and more the girls whispered about me behind their hands, giggled and struggled to make eye contact.
Let's go ahead and deal with the two, big fucking elephants in the room before we go any farther;
One, I was still a virgin. I'd been to 2nd base with Ellie Williams my freshman year but I didn't know what the hell I was doing and she would only let me paw at her over her undergarments but wouldn't go past that. Doesn't mean I hadn't masturbated. By freshman summer, I could've signed a semi-pro contract for jerking off. I was covered in that department.
Two, just how big is it? You might as well ask it because I know you're wondering. Well, once the "revelation" happened, I eventually figured I'd better know the answer to that for myself. Fully erect, top side pubic bone to tip it's 8 7/8" long and it averages just at 7 1/4" around the shaft and almost 8" around the mushroom part of the head.
