I know there are several readers out there waiting for more chapters of a few of my other stories...and rest assured those are in process, but I needed to get this one out of my head before I could do those justice.
Let me know what you think when you're done, please?
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"Yo, big bro... How'd you like to go out for breakf..." she began, opening the door suddenly. "Oh shit! I'm so sorry!"
The luscious little brunette with the improbably large boobs, who had been giving herself a serious fucking on my dick, rolled off me, squealing in protest. She hid her nudity behind the sheets, peeking around the edge. We'd been especially energetic, if not boisterous, this morning, resulting in us being twisted around on the bed, on top of the covers. While my buxom partner had managed to keep her exposure time to a minimum, I was trapped, naked as the day I was born, struggling to find something to cover myself with. My erection bobbed with my movements, standing straight up, and glistening with a freshly applied coating of pussy juice, thanks to my bedmate's damp, excited vagina.
Carolyn tried to close the door, but she'd lost her grip on the doorknob when she burst in on us, surprising herself as much as anyone. Now she was searching blindly for the handle, having initially been unable to look away from my naked shaft, finally just closing her eyes and muttering "Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm sorry!" as she groped around. She found the lever at last, and beat a hasty retreat, pulling the door shut while repeating the same apologetic mantra.
Perhaps I should explain how I ended up in this predicament.
*****
I'm David. Nice to meet you. I was six when my sister Carolyn was born. I immediately nicknamed her Ro, mostly because Carolyn was too much work, but also because she was small, and cute, so I gave her a small, cute name.
The age difference that made her cute and cuddly when I was younger, made her a big pain in the ass when I grew up a bit. Nothing gets in the way of trying to steal your first kiss from a girl quite like a little sister sticking her nose in. She was like a shadow, always the most obvious when things looked brightest.
By the time I was eighteen, she had perfected her craft. Every time I tried to make my move on a would-be girlfriend, she'd appear out of the ether, and scuttle my plans to lose my virginity. Some of my potential conquests found it funny, a viewpoint I didn't share.
Thank God for college, where I was away from her and my family for months at a time. I finally scored, with a willowy blonde coed from one of my classes. A few girlfriends later, I thought I found 'the one', and proposed.
We were married. I was twenty-one, and my fifteen year old sister spent most of the wedding reception with her arms crossed, giving me, and especially my new bride, Kate, a look that left no doubt about her disapproval.
Carolyn had always been a bit chubby, but she seemed to really balloon a bit in her teens. Mom carried a few extra pounds, too, so I suppose Ro came by it honestly, but she surpassed Mom by quite a margin. I don't know how much she actually weighed, but it had to be a bit north of two hundred. It's a good thing she was relatively tall, or she would have been
very
round. I want you to know that I love my sister. I'm just being honest, and objective.
After graduation, we relocated for an excellent career opportunity that presented itself to me. I was being groomed for upward mobility within the international company, but it meant that I didn't see my family for very long stretches of time, occasionally years. On a few instances, while I was able to visit my parents, my arrival was during times when Ro was away at school.
As the years passed, it turned out that perhaps my sister's opinion of my wife was prophetically correct. While the company was grooming me, a few of the more senior executives were grooming her, for mobility of a more horizontal nature. She became the favourite plaything of a couple of the bastards. I had no idea, until one of the secretaries took pity on me and spilled the beans.
The scandal cost me one wife, but to my great relief, the company backed me, doing what was right, and relieving the two most unrepentant 'gentlemen' of their jobs, and their pensions as well. They had always valued the family, having started as a family business, and they had little patience for such philandering.
In a perfect world, or in Hollywood, I would have been offered one of their vacated positions, and found a new spouse that put my old one to shame. Real life... Not so much, but I did get the job of the guy, that got the job of the guy, that got the job of one of the fired guys. No luck on the spouse.
It's likely that the unfairness of that past situation also played a part in them offering me a position abroad. I said it was an international company, and I meant it. The office in Rome suddenly had an opening, and despite the fact that I didn't speak a lick of the language, I was tapped for the spot. Most of the business was conducted in English, anyway, and I would have no shortage of help with the few circumstances that required the native language. Perhaps it also helped that I was single, as the company liked to keep families together, and usually compensated relocated spouses, and even children, for international moves. Whatever their logic, I was headed for Rome!
***
A quick search on the Internet will tell you that the 'average' male stands about 5 foot 9, weighs about 175 pounds, wears a size 9 shoe, and packs about 5.5 inches of dick between his legs. Well, that's average, that's not me.
This may come as a surprise to some men who try to dispute the fact, but bigger guys are often bigger... everywhere. They're taller, weigh more, wear bigger shoes, and have bigger dicks. If you think about for just a second without personal bias, it makes logical sense. Sorry for bursting your bubble, average guys.
I mention this because, apparently, Italian girls have figured it out already, and many of them were eager to see if the theory held true for me. At 6 foot 6,, 230 pounds, with a size 13 foot, I stood out among the local men, and the comment I heard most from the women I bedded was "E 'così grande!" 'Grande', as in your larger cup of coffee. Enough said? Good.
It didn't take too long for a few of the girls at the new office to make themselves available. Italian women are world famous for their dark, sultry looks and abundant curves... think Sophia Loren, Claudia Cardinale, or Gina Lollobrigida... which put me in heaven, potential partner wise. I nearly gave myself whiplash several times while trying to take in the local beauties.
One night, I was partaking in one of those exotic lovelies, a lithe little brunette named Alessandra. We had been rolling about in sweaty, sexual bliss for about an hour, with my Italian sweetie tutoring me in what 'fuck me harder' and 'lick my pussy', or their Italian equivalents, sounded like. We were both catching our breath, preparing for a resumption of the festivities, when my phone rang. Something told me to answer it.
"David, is that you?" the voice asked.
"Yes... Carolyn?" I guessed, correctly.
"I guess I haven't been forgotten, after all. Care to get together? I'm in town," she asked.
"Ro, I'm way out of town," I replied, figuring she thought I was at my last known office.
"Duh... I know that, you're in Rome. You've been there for seven months. Find any good pizza joints?" she laughed.
"How'd you know that?" I asked, confused.
"I called your company, they filled in the blanks," she answered. "So are you going to meet me for dinner, or what?"
"You're in Rome, too?" I wondered.
