How Much Sex Can One Man Have? Part 1
There's an old joke I never really understood till this week. I mean, I heard, laughed but never really got it. It goes like this.
A young bull and an old bull are walking up a hill together discussing life as a bull, maybe the birds and the bees, I don't know. They get to the top of the hill and down below they see a whole bunch of cows having breakfast. The young bull gets all excited.
"Let's run down there and fuck us a cow!" He says.
The old bull looks at the young bull then at the many cows grazing in the valley below them. "Why don't we walk down and fuck 'em all." He said.
Fuck 'em all! If you haven't noticed, it seems like I get offered pussy the moment I meet a woman and well, I have a superstitious thought that if I turn one down, they all figure it out and the doors to pussy plenty close and quick. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned...I guess I took that to heart. It isn't that I'm a slut. Nor is it fair to say I fuck every woman I meet. Meeting a woman and wanting to fuck her happens all the time, at least the urge to poke around and see what's what. You know, take off the bra and see how much appearance matches reality. Plus I have that curiosity that gets the cat in trouble, or in my case, gets me into the pussy. I just want to see what she looks like during a little orgasm, just to see if she still looks beautiful or sexy or eager to please and be pleased.
I just don't think loving women is a bad thing but this week, god, this week was going to put me to the fucking test. Literally. How much pussy can one man have and not lose his taste for it? I mean really! Can you fuck yourself to death? Usually, the dick loses interest first before you expire in a puff of pussy dust. I think the limp dick is a survival mechanism. The guys born without it fuck themselves to death and disappear. Only the really fecund ones keep swimming in the gene pool. This week, really closer to two weeks, my polite superstition (if she wants to fuck, fuck her, and never turn a woman down because once you do, the flow of willing pussy stops) was about to be put to the test. I was about to find out just how much pussy I could have and not blink out of existence. I didn't know that when I started. I didn't plan it that way but I only have myself to blame. At some point, the queue gets longer than you can manage.
Don't get me wrong, I did not give up and quit. Oh no. Nor am I complaining. I am just facing the real possibility that too much pussy is not an oxymoron. Naw. That's crazy. Just crazy talk. There's no such thing as too much pussy. Is there? This is my account of how I put that dictum to the test.
I lasted till Tuesday. Driving home from school I found myself pulling up in front of D. Debra's house. Mrs. Hamilton's face appeared in one window. Getting to that point in the week was an accomplishment, cluttered with pussy and dodges and weaves. I wanted to convince Dori she'd convinced me and see if she'd call me. Of course I did not really think that because if I had, I'd have realized I had not given the woman my phone number. That didn't mean she didn't have it it just meant I didn't give it to her. That distinction itself might prove a barrier to her admitting to herself she wanted another bit of stuff from Sonny. I wanted to see if she'd call or otherwise break our pact but I broke first. Getting to Tuesday meant I had to get through Monday though. That proved to have its own challenges.
Monday when I woke up, it was early but the females in the house, except for Norma Spilletti were rumbling around. Charm had to get to an appointment and they finally figured out she needed to rent a car. I showered, despite the hour and went down in just a sweat shirt and sweat pants.
I swear I had not planned anything. The open issue with Georgia was throbbing in the back of my mind. She was standing in front of the coffee maker, watching it gargle a new brew. I walked over behind her and lifted up her skirt. She wore pantie hose over panties. I stripped them down. She went stiff the moment I got close but when I touched her, she did not move or make a sound. She barely breathed. Charm sat across the counter from us sipping from a cup, watching us. Dalia was at the table.
I did not even speak. I bared Georgia's ass and fingered her between the legs. She groaned and bent over slightly, granting me better access. No one spoke. I fingered her pussy for a minute till I felt the little bit of lubrication that indicated some minimum response. Her breath rasped on her teeth. I pulled my sweat pants down and bent my now perfectly hard cock down to meet the lips of her pussy.
Georgia pushed the coffee maker back against the wall and bent onto her elbows, widening her stance. I entered her, pushing the head of my cock inside her body. She quivered and responded by pushing back, shoving herself onto my cock. I gripped her hips and pulled back and slammed forward. My sister groaned and shivered as I penetrated her, her hips twitched back and forth. Out and in a few times and I was buried deep inside her, her hips rumpled against me, and her skirt flipped up over her waist. With her panties and hose around her thighs, she could not maneuver, so she merely stood still, bent over the counter while I fucked her.
The detente in our house was over.
She finally lay flat on the counter top while I thrust into her from behind. Her body was waking up, responding and I felt the throbbing need emanating from her like a magnetic field, twisting and turning the ions in my body. All I did was chase the ghost of my orgasm.
I was nearly awake when I caught it. I began to come, pumping Georgia's pussy full of cum. She gasped and moaned as I ran down. I stood behind her, panting, trying to remember my name.
Charm sipped her coffee.
Dalia had not moved.
The smell of sex mixed with coffee and the residue of sausage and eggs in the air.
I looked over at Dalia and slowly withdrew my cock from our sister. Georgia's pussy slurped as I withdrew from her, like it was inhaling as I exited.
Dalia regarded me with hooded eyes. She licked her lips and her eyes found my cock when I stepped back from her bent sister. They held fast to my cock that stayed fully erect, glistening with our morning mix. When her eyes rose to meet mine, she smiled so minimally I nearly missed it but the glitter in her eyes was unmistakable.
I shuffled over to Dalia and presented her with my drippy cock. She looked up at me and when I did not flinch away from her sister-stare, she reached out with her tongue and tasted her siblings, brother and sister mixed up on the end of my cock.
"Oh fuck me." Charm whispered.
"Okay. You're next." I growled.
Without another word, Charm set down her cup and slipped off the stool. She slid behind Dalia and I, regarding us like an engineer looks at a coral snake. She got past us and went up stairs.
Dalia sucked me into her mouth. I had not softened even a little. My cock was hard as the moment I woke up from my dream of Dori Hamilton astride my body, riding me to ecstasy or some other wild, untamed town that needed a cocksure sheriff. Or was that D. Debra, her daughter? Dalia soon found a bobbing rhythm that went deeper and deeper with each stroke till she was taking my whole cock down into her throat.