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Big Gay Cock All Is Not Roses

4 September 2008

Big Gay Cock All Is Not Roses
“If I win, I get to show you what I can do with it … each one, one at a time.”There was a nice little motel two buildings down and they agreed on the location. I got a room and the four women dutifully trooped after me.Even when I get lucky and find a woman willing to consumate our relationship, I have to be careful of hurting her. I can’t just screw her with wild abandon like most of the guys talk about. Shit, if I did, I’d rip up her insides so bad, she’d never be the same.Being a budding architect, I had been out on a job checking on the progress of the construction crew one morning. After talking with the contractor about several small problem areas, I stopped at a coffee shop to get some lunch before heading back to the office. I brought in my plans, the smaller 12″ x 16″ versions, to give some thought to possible solutions while I waited for my food.”He sure beats Glenn. Longer and bigger around too.”I began moving very slowly, as I had trained myself, but her fingers dug into my back and she hissed, “Faster. Harder. Bang me, honey. Fuck me!”She was the heaviest of the four ladies and had the biggest pair of knockers, with extra long nips. I settled down to slowly moving eight or nine inches of cock in and out of her cunt while sucking on her tits. She cupped her breasts and held them to my mouth, encouraging me to nurse at her fountains. I only wished she had been lactating!Her expression changed gradually so that I could tell she was getting titillation from our contact – I figured I was at least grazing her clitoris with those strokes. Then the big “O” formation of her mouth changed to the big O itself when she climaxed. She left absolutely no doubt that she loved it. She loved our fuck. She loved being fucked by my cock!I rolled over onto my back and lay huffing and puffing, trying to slow my heart rate. The questionable blonde scooted up between my legs until she sat cross-legged just below my bottom with my legs over her crossed legs. She said, “Hi, honey. My name is Sammie – Samantha. Did you mean what you said earlier?”Perhaps my one redeeming feature is one that stays hidden in my pants, at least the vast majority of the time. I was endowed with 14 ½ inches of manhood – well, 14 ¼ to 15, depending on who is doing the measuring, so I claim the “middle of the road” number. As far as the circumference is concerned, I can’t tell the difference between me and the size of the proverbial Coke can, except that I’m harder than the Coke can!There was no doubt about it! They were talking about size. The size of the implement used to fuck them! These women believed size mattered. I wondered if they believed in such a thing as too much size.Leaving enough money on the table to cover the bill and a tip, I picked up my plans and eased out of the booth. Grabbing a chair from the table across the aisle, I quickly turned it to the end of the women’s booth and sat down.







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