by Candy Quinn
Though almost as powerful as his words, was the touch of his finger to my cunny, feeling the moist folds and teasing my delicate clit.
I nearly screamed. Or maybe I did. I kind’ve lost all control when he touched me, because it felt so unreal. So amazing. My body tensed a little, embarrassment and modesty interfering with my moment before they, too, disappeared in the flood of pleasurable sensations.
By the time my alcohol-fuzzed mind managed to focus and I looked down, I realized Truck — the big brute of a man he was — had his head between my legs. His tongue was slidin’ up over my slit and tastin’ my femininity like it was his to do with as he wished.
With a rumbling growl he seemed to think it was.
“Mmmmm, damn girl… your cunt is fuckin’ fine,” he said before lashing his tongue over my cunny again, teasing my clit so expertly as he indulged in me at his whims.
It felt phenomenal. Unreal. Heavenly, even!
I was over the moon, and clutching onto the bed, just trying to keep myself balanced in the sea of pleasure.
“Truck!” I gasped, my milky thighs pressed so hard against his head I doubt he could hear me.
He ate my pussy with such smooth expertise, expert lashes of his tongues doing things to my lady parts I couldn’t have even fantasized before! His two big hands grasping my thighs and ass as he lashed his tongue over my slit again and again, savouring my flavour. He was ravenous! A wild, muscular beast who just saw me, knew he had to have me, and made it happen.
I know we didn’t meet on the most conventional of terms, but lordy, he was makin’ me sing!
“Truck!” I screamed again, one of my hands going down to the top of his head, holding him there as suddenly it was like my body started to tense up, the good feelings becoming almost too much to tolerate.
Even if I wanted to push him away, he was an immovable object. His body couldn’t be dislodged by my shoving, no way! He just sank his fingers into my flesh and continued to eat me out at his (and my) pleasure.
The big, loud grunts that came from him made there be no confusion as to his own satisfaction in the act. He was enjoying it, savouring me like a fine meal as he licked my folds and tasted my honey.
And then something happened that I’d never felt before, not even close. It was like my body started just tensing up, all my muscles going tight and then they all released in a burst of sensation unlike anything I’d dreamed of.
I screamed out loud as the pleasure struck through me like lightening, my hand tangled in Truck’s hair, my legs pressing to him so hard I thought I might hurt him.
He clung on though, continuing to trace his tongue along the edge of my clit, provoking my pleasure through the earth shattering climax I was experiencing. He made my skin hum, my blood boil and hiss, and he ravenously devoured the flood of my honey that came forth across his tongue and face.
It was too much, and I was buckin’ and moanin’, my limbs flailing and then tightening as I just completely and utterly lost myself to his mouth.
I swear I must’ve blacked out, or very nearly so! It was all so intense!
But by the time I came to my senses, there he was again, loomin’ over me.
His dick was hard as ever, and he held one of my legs in one arm, and with the other he wiped around his mouth with the back of his wrist, cleaning up the glistening mess of my honey even as he licked at his lips.
“Damn tasty,” he said in his guttural, growling voice.
I was still wearin’ almost all my carefully chosen clothes, except for those panties, and my booted calf was wrapped with his hand as he bent it back a little. It was so lewd, but I was spinning in a lust filled haze, and all I wanted was more.
Was him.
I wanted him to fuck me.
Even just the thought of it made me blush, though I’m sure my face was already red from the heavy breathin’ I’d been doin’.
Then he did somethin’ I’ll never forget, because the sight of him reachin’ his hand down to his long member, and takin’ hold of that shaft was burned into my memory. Watchin’ such a big, hunky man stroke his own cock was beyond compare, and he did it as he stared down at my glistening, wet pussy, takin’ such pleasure in touchin’ himself as he watched me.
“Such a gorgeous fuckin’ babe,” he growled at me before he leaned on in, using his hand’s grasp upon his dick to guide it into my pussy, raw. That big, purple crown of his kissing my cunny lips as he began to sink on in bareback and groan in bliss of his own.
I cried out again. I’d always heard that it hurt the first time, so maybe it was the vodka, or maybe the fact that he’d eaten me out for so long and I felt so good and relaxed, but it didn’t really hurt. Not like I expected.
But he grunted like it was takin’ him force to feed that dick into me, and I squirmed, wanting more.
Slowly as he sank on in, I could feel the pressure build. He was such a big fella, and my lil’ pussy was so tiny by comparison! It stretched to accommodate him though, and it never hurt like I feared, it only felt good to feel so full.
And I watched as he took hold of my hips in one hand, my leg in the other, and just sank his big, meaty shaft all the way into me, until his dark pubic hair was pressed up to my shaved mound. Such a beautiful fit.
“You weren’t lying,” he growled out, his dark eyes on me.
He grunted and groaned, and I could feel him twitch inside of me excitedly! But it wasn’t long before he was tuggin’ his hips back and beginnin’ to thrust into me, startin’ a tempo as we fucked unprotected.
My fingers clasped the sheet, my knuckles white as I held on for dear life.
I moaned louder, my more feminine sounds combining with the raw masculine growls, and my legs wrapped around his calves.
“I’m a virgin,” I answered back, my throat tight and sore.
Truck lifted my ass up off the bed as he began to pump his hips faster, harder, his big cock splaying my pussy as he thrust in again and again. He looked on down over my body, and slid his hand from my leg on up to cup and squeeze my breasts through my corset.
“You aren’t anymore, babe,” he growled between moans, his dick pulsing with a twitch of pleasured excitement.
The way he said it made me almost cum again, my body still vibrating on high, filled with such delightful little aftershocks of pleasure. Every time his hips rammed into me, I jolted again, my breathing getting so hard.
I was getting close again to that point of no return, and he must’ve been able to tell because one of his hands relinquished my hip and instead went to that throbbing, needy clit.
He was master of the female form it seemed, master of my body. Because he thrust into me so deliciously, and worked his thumb over that sensitive little bud with masterful precision, the two actions working in concert — three if you count his delightful kneading of my breast — as he drove me to the precipice, my pleasure mounting beyond control.
Though one look at his broad-jawed face showed he was reaching his own pleasured peak. His eyes shutting and his dick throbbing inside me wildly.
“Cum on my dick,” he commanded me, harsh and simple.
And maybe I was going to anyways, or maybe those words drove me over the edge, but either way, I did just as he said and that rush of bliss went through me like a wave crashing onto shore. I screamed and bucked against him, writhing against his hard cock and diligent hand, gasping for breath.
Though as I was racked with overwhelming pleasure, he too reached his peak as a wave of my honey crested over his cock. The slickness coated our loins, and he hammered into me harder than ever, pounding and pounding as he moaned loudly. His broad, hard chest puffed up and I could feel his dick swell as he lost himself in me.
He arched his spine and with one final thrust, shoved his dick to my very limits, jammed his tip against my womb and let loose a flood of his virile seed, filling my fertile depths with spurt after spurt of that thick, creamy spunk.
I lost track of how much time passed, and how ma
ny of those waves washed over me, but when I finally came back to awareness, we were wrapped together, my arms around him. I was breathing in the combined scent of our arousal and pleasure, the tangy salt of our perspiration as I felt his weight atop me.
I’d done it. I’d just lost my virginity!
Truck was glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration, which highlighted the intensity of his sculpted muscles. And he leaned on in, lowering me to the bed as he wrapped his bulging arms about me, held me tight as he kissed my lips.
It felt so oddly… romantic, for such a brute who just took me after only meeting me, but that’s how it was!
Right up until his hips began to move again, and I knew he was already hankerin’ for another go at my tight pussy.
So that was how we met, and how I lost my virginity.
And how I got this bundle of joy growin’ inside me too, the same one I feel beneath my hand as I stroke my belly.
Yeah, I got knocked up on my first time. And yeah, I left the next day, ran on back to my apartment and planned to head home before I got myself into more trouble.
But it didn’t last. I came on back. Tracked Truck down to his place…
Whoops! Here he is, his big ol’ arms goin’ around me from behind.
“C’mon babe. I got a hunger like you wouldn’t believe,” he says in a growl, kissing my neck and nibblin’ at it before he hoists me up from behind in his arms.
Fertile First Time with the Team
Book Themes:
Bimbofication, Barely Legal, Breeding, Gangbang
Word Count:
10,000
A thick, hard cock being thrust into me, pulsing with need. That’s all I can think of, all I’ve been able to think of, for days now. Even though until now I’ve been the picture perfect idea of a sweet virgin, loves Jesus, saving myself for marriage, since I signed up for that clinical study I’ve been a mess.
The thought of a man blowing his load inside me — blowing his load?! I’ve never even thought like that before! — is more important than anything. And that’s just not me. Or rather, the me I used to be.
But the me I am now has a few things going for her, I can’t help but notice as I look in my dorm mirror.
Wearing a skirt and blouse, I had to forego my usual bra. It just doesn’t fit anymore. My breasts have swollen so big they strain my blouse too, and I think I can even see the pink outline of my nipples and areolas through the white fabric. But I don’t care. I just don’t care. Part of me says that’s scandalous, but a louder part tells me to let it be. It’ll only help attract big, virile men.
That sends a shiver down my spine and I bite my lower lip, the very thought…
You see, being a college student is pricy. And my family are good, God-fearing people who work for a living. When the college jacked up tuition this semester, I had to come up with more cash fast. And the only way I could think to do that was to sign up for this test for a new hormone control therapy study.
It paid young women well to sign up, try it out for a few months. Promised so many positive effects, like clearer skin, resistance to disease, and even birth control. But that last one seemed the iffiest for them, and one I’m opposed to anyhow. My parents would be aghast if they knew I was taking birth control of any type, but I figured if I’m not gonna have sex, who cares?
But the longer this therapy goes on, and the more my pussy tingles with need, the more I remember the one warning I got from the researcher lady: Some people have a special, adverse reaction. Feel a much heightened sexuality and fertility.
Looking at myself in my stockings and skirt, my blouse about to bust, I felt inside me: I had to be having that special reaction.
They said if that happened I should report it to them immediately and stop taking the treatment. But I can’t quite seem to muster the desire anymore… not when the urgent need of finding some big, strong man to slam his cock into me is so pressing.
It goes against everything I ever believed in, but now I’m throwing caution to the wind. It’s like a butterfly that was trapped inside a caterpillar for too long. I want to spread my wings — and my legs.
Besides, Jesus did say be fruitful and multiply, and I feel very, very fruitful right now.
I pull back my blonde hair, looking at my wide, blue eyes, and I still see a shimmer of that innocent girl inside me. But when I smile, all I can think of is the temptress that’s dying to be let loose. And earlier today, I’d watched the football players at practice, and I could tell they were talking about me afterwards.
Hell, Brett, one of the cutest ones, even told me about a party they were having tonight. I mean, I asked if it was going to be good, innocent fun, and he told me it was, so who am I to debate that?
Before I leave, I swipe my room mates pair of high heels; we’re the same size and they’ll make me look so good, I note. I didn’t ask, and part of me knows that’s a thing I’d never do too. But asking might mean getting a ‘no’, and I’m not in any mood to jeopardize this.
This? A part of me questions. That good girl, church-going part.
I push it down, there’s just the aching need in my empty pussy that I have to fill. I can’t even pull a pair of panties on over it. That feeling of contact is just too much torture for me now.
I don’t have a lot of experience walking in heels, but something about how I feel just drives me along in them smoothly I think. Imitating those strutting walks the models do on the catwalk.
I’m not even out of the dorm before I’m getting looks, from both the other girls and the boys in our co-ed dorm. A few of the fellas even whistle and cat call, and that gets me grinning, I can’t help it. I reward them with a little extra flounce to my step, causing my skirt to lift a bit more, show off some of my round, bare ass cheeks.
Heck, my skirt wasn’t short enough to ever be at danger of showing anything before, but after some alterations, I took care of that. Now it barely does the job it was intended of doing: of keeping my ass and cunt concealed.
And it feels so wrong, but also... so, so right. It’s like my feminine nature has just been totally awakened within me, and I have so many experiences I want — need — to have. Their attention is almost enough to make me want to touch myself, to take care of that heated throbbing at the peak of my thighs.
But I learned quickly that my fingers won’t be enough to quell my hunger. They’re too tiny, and I instinctively know, I need a man. A big, huge man. That’s the only way I can finally be able to think straight and clear my head.
The party will be filled with big, huge men, and with all the attention I’m getting just walking to the party, I know that I’ll have my pick of them.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, exhilaration lighting up my eyes.
Before long I’m walking across campus, about halfway to the party as the evening sun turns red. I’m not quite there when I notice someone. He’s not heading to the party, but the familiar sight of my handsome sociology assistant-prof grabs my attention immediately.
He’s not just handsome, with his natural good looks, well-groomed hair and beard, he’s fit. I can see his biceps and thick calves bulging through his clothes in class. And while I’ve secretly had a crush on him for some time, I know I’m not the only girl on campus. He’s a heartthrob. And even in my prissy, good-girl days I’ve stopped by the gym in the mornings just to see him in some shorts.
And I can recall with picture-perfect recognition the size of that snaking bulge of his.
I almost daze off at that thought, but when he sees me, Malcolm wakes me from my stupor.
“Hey Tiffany,” he says, in that smooth, deep voice of his that just sounded delicious when he was talking to the class. Didn’t matter about what. And even his usual calm demeanor was broken a bit as he noticed me — me! — of all the girls. I’ve never seen him the least bit interested in anyone, but there his eyes went… right for the cleavage that was nearly popping out entirely.
My excitement level goes th
rough the roof. It was bad when I was looking at myself in the mirror. It was worse, walking down the hall, feeling my thighs grow slicker with each step, with every new cat call.
Now I’m not even sure how I’m maintaining enough control to not just start fingering myself right in front of him.
I smile broadly, my fingers curling around my hair as I let him look at me, my breathing making my breasts rise faster, my nipples stiffening against the sheer fabric.
I haven’t said a word, and some inner voice is telling me I must look like an idiot. The other part of me is just concerned with tilting my hips in just the right manner. Turns out that part knows what it’s doing more, because Malcolm is entranced.
“Hey,” he says again, licking his lips, and I know I’ve ensnared this serious young professor, “I was about to head up to my room, drop off my things and then go for coffee. Wanna join me?” he asks, but I have no interest in coffee. Just him. And the football team after.
I pull my lower lip into my mouth, suckling it a bit as my mind rages. Part of me wants to say no, part of me wants to follow him up and just get to it.
“Can I come up with you?” I ask, my voice slower, sultrier than I’ve ever heard it before. “I need to use the ladies room,” I say, though it’s not true at all. I lied! I never lie.
“Sure,” he says with a wry grin and turns, leading me towards his room which he had clearly been coming from in the first place, not heading to. He lied too! But his hand touches the small of my back as he directs me up to his room, and who the fuck cares about anything else?
I’ve never thought such curse words, never thought about such temptations of the flesh, but my mind is a tizzy and I beg for him to touch just a little bit lower.
And then, almost as if I had some telepathic control, his hand does go lower, and I can feel it on the top of my skirt. He’s so close to the source of my heat, and the walk back is exquisite torture, because I know soon, I’ll finally have what I want.
