I Was a Teenage Sex God

Chapter Six: "It was good to be Lance Leo..."

ONE MONTH LATER

Lance woke up with a start. He needed a moment to piece together what just happened.

His wet dream had been hazy. He only recalled fragments of images and sensations at first. The soft warmth of flesh pressed against his body. The mingled aroma of sweat, hashish, and perfume. The spicy flavor of pussy nectar on his tongue. The cries of a woman in heat. A flash of a luscious female form writhing beneath him. And a limber tongue flickering against the sensitive underside of his big knob.

He found himself on a giant bed that stretched as far as the eye could see. And there were girls everywhere. Small ones. Big ones. Blacks. Blondes. Brunettes. All of them nude, willing, and ready for him.

Only one other thing was certain.

He was Samson

. The mighty barbarian flexed his muscles, his biceps bulging powerfully as if they were made of solid granite. With a single flex, the warrior stud could lift mountains from their roots and overturn chariots. He could slam his fists into walls and shake the very foundations of a palace. And no man would dare fuck with him for he was both king and god in this mythical realm of carnal pleasure...

Something blonde, warm, and buxom rolled across the bed and clung to his side. But Lance couldn't get back to sleep, not after this badass vision. Instead, he reached over Stephanie to get his smartphone off the nightstand. He hadn't checked it since last night.

The notification on the lock screen announced he had 173 messages.

Lance began scrolling, ignoring most and answering a few.

TINA MATH TEACHER: I can't stop thinking about u and that big schlong. U down for another private lesson? It will be very hands-on.

KATE CHEERLEADER: Hey, champ. Pep rally at my place? Parents on vacation.

BARB CHEERLEADER: I feel like a slut saying this because I have a bf but I need to see you again.

SYLVIA HOUSEWIFE: I want it. I need it. HMU. Plz.

UNKNOWN CALLER: I got yr number from a girlfriend on Tinder. Can you send me a pic?

COACH WALKER: Leo! Monday practice starts at 11am. Be there.

LANCE: NP, coach.

TESSA CHEERLEADER: Looking forward to tonite! [photo attachment: Tessa naked on bed fingering herself]

LANCE: 9pm. Gas Lite Motel.

STEPDAD: Lance, the principal's office told me you're still on academic probation. Get those grades up or I'm sending you to military school.

SOFIA SPANISH TEACHER: There's going to be a pop quiz on Monday. Wanna stop by mi casa for the answer key? Me enchanta tu polla grande! [photo attachment: Sofia sunbathing topless in Cancun]

LANCE: Aye, Caramba!

Suddenly, a hand snatched the phone out of his palm.

"Gotcha!" giggled Stephanie. She rolled to the other side of the bed before he could grab it back.

"Don't do that, babe!" Lance blurted out with alarm. "A man's smartphone is his castle."

"What's the problem?" she teased him, holding the phone out of his reach. "You hiding something from me?"

"You know how that question works, Steph," he whined. "If I say 'yes,' you call me an asshole. If I say 'no,' you call me a liar."

"Then I'll just have to find out the answer for myself," she said. However, before she got a scandalous eyeful of his foxy Spanish teacher, Lance playfully leapt on top of her and pinned her wrists to the bed. His phone clattered to the floor. He seductively ground his crotch against her hips and their wrestling bout quickly turned erotic.

"Listen, babe," he told her. "We've talked about this before. I'm not ready for a girlfriend. I'm still finding myself, exploring my sexuality."

Lance tried to speak openly with his partners. Indeed, he was 'still finding' himself but not in the ways most young people established their identity. Instead, the insatiable Don Juan had 'explored his sexuality' with five cheerleaders, six teachers, nine college girls, and 27 cougars in the past month. And, having died and gone to pussy heaven, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted a steady girlfriend.

"Are you cool with that?" he asked her, not breaking eye contact. "Because I'm all about pleasure and never about pain."

"Yes," she told him quietly.

"Cool," he smiled. "Because now I have permission to blow your mind."

Lance proceeded to give Steph a scorching kiss that made her clit twitch. At that moment, the cheerleader lusted after him just as much as the first time she saw him at practice...

The squad was rehearsing at one end of the football field and the team was throwing around the ball on the other. Even from that distance, she could see how much bigger and stronger he looked than the other players.

Just as the cheerleaders finished up their last routine, the coach dismissed the team for the day. They all headed to the showers except for Lance. The teen walked right up to the squad, yanked off his helmet, and shook out his shoulder-length mane of unruly hair.

"Hey, Morgan," he told Morgan, she being the head of the cheerleading squad and most popular girl in school, "I told you I'd make the team."

The handsome rogue smiled mysteriously for a couple seconds and walked off.

About half the squad already had seen his dick. His nudes began to circulate on Telegram the week before. Steph quickly connected him to an unrelated rumor that Morgan hooked up with a "buff biker dude" at her party. That must have been the dude.

Not a few members of the squad asked Morgan for the tea later that day. She remained coy about his anatomical details but issued a wise edict at their next practice: "Lance Leo is a total player. A guy like him could cause a lot of drama on the squad. So, let's make an agreement right here right now. We don't date this guy. If you wanna hook up with him, that's your business but he remains open territory until graduation."

Steph knew that Lance was messing around with three or four other girls on the squad. But that number did not include the student body as a whole. His promiscuity should have bothered her. At least, that's what the relationship blogs said... Nonetheless, their kiss endured and intensified. With Lance, there was never time for words. She immediately fell under the spell of his questing lips and thrusting hips, her insides aching for satisfaction.

Lance sensed her urgent need but he proceeded at a slow and deliberative place. The horny teen really liked to sex up a chick with a ton of foreplay. To him, the nibbling of an earlobe, a foot massage, or a playful ass-slap could be just as hot as full-on penetrative intercourse.

The master lover began at the hollow of her neck, lightly blowing at her skin until it goosebumped. He then sank his teeth into the soft flesh, marking her as a conquest. He bit every woman in exactly the same spot, just to the right of the trachea. Morgan had been the first woman on the squad that bore his mark. Then Tessa, Kate, and now her. Lance's hickeys initially caused a bit of a stir on the squad but Morgan's edict remained in force. They had to share his sexual abundance.

Slowly and patiently, the ladykiller licked, fondled, and smooched his way along the luscious contours of her hourglass form. Lance spent a lot of time sucking on her nipples, first the left, then the right, until both stiffened like twin peaks. Stephanie loved how much eye contact he made with her as he flicked his tongue against her taut, peaked areolae, offering a flirty wink every so often.

Lance resumed his downward journey, his hands and lips roving across her ribcage and the indent of her navel, lower and lower, until he reached her waistline and... He lingered there, peppering her abdomen with soft kisses as her pussy marinated in its juices.

"Lance," she begged him in a breathless moan. "Please..."

Finally, his mouth sank between her thighs. Stephanie's clit tingled from the heat of his breath. Sliding his hands under her bottom, he raised her slightly to give him better access to her naughty bits.

"Now let me give you something to cheer about when I'm on the football field," he teased her.

Steph giggled but her laugh became a moan as Lance gently opened her soft folds in a small back and forth movement of his lips. And having exposed her luscious interiors, the champion cunnilinguist kicked things off with what he called "The French Suck." Lance applied a full-mouthed French Kiss that covered most of her vulva, swirling his tongue in her sticky wetness, building up a sensual tempo with flat licks, and getting

oh, so close

to her pulsing clit. Then he'd pull back, leaving her throbbing and ravenous. The third or fourth time Lance returned to her well, he upped the ante, tonguing her pulsing clit with deft finesse. Just as she began her countdown to climax, he pulled away yet again.

Lance met her annoyed glare with an amused smirk. "Not so fast, babe," he reassured her. "I ain't done yet."

Bending down between Stephanie's thighs once more, Lance stuck out his tongue. He extended it and pushed the tip between her labia and into her pulsing channel.

"Oh, God..." she moaned, her whole body shivering from the penetrating sensation.

Gauging her intense pleasure, Lance tried to stretch his tongue deeper into her pussy. To his amazement, the wet muscle extended at least another inch. He tentatively licked the insides of her twat, touching places only his fingers had reached in the past. Stephanie grabbed the back of his head to keep his face in place. Whatever he was doing to her, she would not let him get away this time.

Lance's mind was racing. Over the past couple months, he swore his tongue had lengthened a bit but hadn't given it much thought. So many crazy things had been happening lately that the stoner couldn't keep track anymore. But now he found his tongue immersing itself further and further into her depths. The ribbon of wet muscle seemed to go on forever!

Stephanie studied Lance's bowing head with a keen eye. She realized something unusual was occuring. It felt like he was performing an unusually stimulating gynecological exam on her.

"Lance?" she asked, her curiosity now stimulated as much as her body.

"Huh?" he mumbled into her muff.

"Is that your tongue?"

Lance didn't know the answer either so he lifted his face off her crotch, his tongue still hanging out of his mouth. Stephanie's expression changed to one of simultaneous shock and glee.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" she squealed. That's when Lance knew his tongue had grown big time.

"Hold on," Stephanie told him. "I've got to find my phone." The effusive cheerleader searched the cluttered nightstand in such a hurry that she knocked over a half-empty can of Budweiser.

"Show me your tongue, dude!" she said, holding up her iPhone. Lance let it all hang out as her phone camera rapidly flashed.

"Look at that!" she gushed, handing him the phone.

"Fuckin A," crowed Lance as he admired his photo. The teen now had a bigger dick than Tommy Lee and a longer tongue than Gene Simmons. He had become the ultimate rock'n'roll Casanova. It was beyond kickass.

Looking up from the phone, Lance caught Steph eying him with raw lust.

"So you dig my tongue, babe?" he smiled with his characteristic swagger.

"I shouldn't be saying this," she confessed. "But you're dangerously addictive to a woman, Lance."

The lizard-tongued Lothario began flicking his oral endowment at her, relishing her potent attraction to him. The back-and-forth oscillations of the wet muscle became so rapid that it turned into a pink blur. Even though he only discovered his augmented tongue a couple minutes earlier, Lance already had an innate sense of how to use it. He felt like he had had this body part all his life.

Steph quickly lay and spread for him on the mattress. Rarely had he seen a babe look so

hungry

for him. Still flicking his tongue like a snake, he crawled towards her and bent down between her thighs. Just at the last minute, his face veered away from her vulva, grabbed one of her wrists, and brought her fingers to his lips. With the grace and agility of a sidewinder, his tongue darted out, coiled itself around her index finger, and pulled the digit into his mouth.

"Holy shit!" gasped Steph as he sucked on her finger with a lewd giggle. That Lance had a six-inch tongue already made her clit throb.

But the muscle could grasp things just like a tentacle

. This was fucking insane!

Lance finally released her finger, dove headlong between her legs, and got his mouth right into her groove. Normally, the ladykiller would tease her for awhile but he was dying to try out his tongue on her. Stephanie writhed on the bed as the serpentine appendage swiftly slithered into her depths.

Fully extending his lecherously lengthy lady-licker all the way to the root, Lance then began a series of sensuous undulations, caressing places inside her body she didn't even know existed. He felt her vaginal muscles groping and pulling at his probing tongue, stretching it inside of her. Testing his oral agility, he began to rotate the extraordinary appendage round and round, gently scraping its length against her slick walls. As Lance rolled his tongue in circles, he noticed she trembled each time it slid across a bumpy patch of the otherwise smooth-as-silk lining of her pussy. He was 99% sure he had found Steph's G-spot.

Eager to test his hypothesis, Lance retracted his tongue a few inches and then eased the tip toward her hot spot. When the organ rubbed against her glorious Gråfenberg, the blonde went berserk. She experienced a violent climax, grabbing his head and thrusting his jawbone into her crotch. But Lance wasn't done with her. With surgical precision, the tip of his tongue stabbed her G-spot.

The provocative maneuver caused her thighs to seize up. An instant later, her pussy sprayed his face in love nectar. He made other chicks squirt during cunnilingus but not as much as Stephanie. That 36-24-36 body shuddered and clenched with such force that Lance barely could stay in the saddle. He moved his hands further beneath her rump, grabbed her ass cheeks to hold on, and started thrusting his tongue in and out of her love hole.

Suddenly, her flow intensified into an absolute geyser. Lance felt as if he put his face in front of a shower nozzle out of which warm, pungent jove juice was cascading. She hosed down his face, badly soaking the sheets and the mattress beneath. Stephanie was totaling the bed! Lance never made a girl spew this much cunt juice. Not even with his cock.

Her orgasm went on and on and on. Stephanie's hourglass figure shook so hard that Lance heard the bed slats creak from her wild and uncontrolled movements. Her hips thrashed from side to side as she smashed her cunt against Lance's stabbing and swirling tongue. Had Lance been able to see, he would have noted that she was crying tears of joy.

Without warning, Stephanie's body sagged like a rag doll. Lance lifted up his head from her crotch with concern. She was still breathing. Steph only passed out. Just to be sure, Lance grabbed her limp wrist to feel her pulse. She would be fine. Fainting females were not new to him. It even happened on the night he lost his virginity to Angela. However, the blackouts seemed to be occurring more frequently lately.

Lance rolled out of bed to get Steph some water from the bathroom. As he stood in front of the sink to fill a glass for her, he gazed into the mirror. Suddenly, all six inches of his tongue darted out of his mouth and indecently flicked at his reflection. Lance finally reeled in the serpentine appendage but there must have been a two-second delay between the time the body part stopped flicking and when he willed it.

His involuntary tongue-flicking concerned him more than Stephanie passing out. He read stories about the evil sword that takes possession of any knight that wields it. Was his tongue like that sword? Was his cock? Lance chuckled. This was a hell of a way to start the day.

TWO HOURS LATER

VROOOOOOOOM!

Lance raced down a long, empty stretch of highway. When the needle hit 100 MPH, he clutched the handlebars, lurched backward, and popped a wheelie. The stunt was incredibly risky, the exact reason he performed it all the time. The teenage daredevil thrived on adrenaline.

HONK! WOO-WOO!

Fuck! Rollers. Lights flashing, the squad car practically rode the fender of his Harley. Lance couldn't believe his shit luck. He pulled over right away and reached for his wallet.

To his relief, a hot Latina babe,

his

Latina babe, emerged from the vehicle. Officer Sanchez wore those mirrored sunglasses that cops wear in the movies. Lance hopped off his cycle. He walked up to her, yanked off her sunglasses, and gave her a proper snog. The teen held her close, feeling her bodacious ta-ta's smoosh against his chest.

"Miss me, babe?" smiled the juvenile delinquent, breaking their kiss.

Sanchez snatched her sunglasses out of his hand and put them back on.

"We gotta talk," she told him.

"The usual place?"

She nodded.

ONE HOUR LATER

Past sawhorses and a dented "road closed" sign, a dirt path led a half-mile into the Ulrich Wildlife Preserve off I-74. The area had plenty of tree cover so drones would be useless out there. The clearing where they parked would have been a good place for a mob-style execution. However, Lance had chosen the spot for a more hedonistic activity.

The policewoman lay nude and spread-eagle across the hood of her squad car. Firmly gripping her ankles, the testosterone-fueled juggernaut pounded her hard and fast, causing the whole vehicle to rock on its shocks. He reveled in the sensuous wobble of her Jello mold titties each time he thrust himself into her core. Lance had seduced more than a few buxom females as of late but none of them came within a cup size to Officer Brabuster.

As Regina experienced her fourteenth peak in as many minutes, Lance felt that awesome tickle in his anus that augurred a high-voltage orgasm. Sometimes his climaxes almost happened in slow-motion. He could feel them approaching from a mile away. But this one was swift and sudden.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" he boomed. Colors and lights exploded in his field of vision. After that, things got fuzzy but Lance swore that the earth shook for a couple seconds. In fact, when he opened his eyes, his cycle had toppled onto its side. Having set the Harley upright on its kickstand, Lance enjoyed a hot and heavy post-game make-out sesh with Regina until she regretfully waved him off. Unlike her teen paramour, the lawgirl was on a clock.

"So what's up, babe?" he asked her.

"I'm hearing stuff downtown," she told him with a bit more gravity than normal. "You know a woman by the name of Harley?"

"Like the motorcycle?" he asked disingenuously.

"Mm-hm," she replied, waiting for him to volunteer more information. He didn't.

"Anyway, she's connected to an outlaw biker gang called 'The Dragons.' They sell drugs and a couple pounds of their hash went missing last month. The club's sergeant-at-arms, fellow by the name of Riff-Raff, seems to think Harley took it. You know anything about that?"

Lance shook his head.

"Illinois State PD spotted you with Harley several weeks ago. They were staking out a fleabag motel called the 'Gas Lite Inn.' Sound familiar?"

"I wouldn't call it a fleabag," Lance answered in a glib tone. "But they only have basic cable."

"Check your chat logs on Tinder. Chances are that the two of you crossed paths."

"I got a lot of chat logs up there, babe."

"I'm sure you do," she winked at him. "But let me know, K?"

The rational part of Lance's brain flashed red. He did not want a biker gang on his ass, especially because Riff-Raff was 100% correct. Leo sold most of the hash to stoners at Peoria Tech and split the cash with Harley last week. But his dark side, his Samson side, took the news a different way: "You gotta problem with me. Bring it on, dude!"