“We haven’t gone to any of our reunions,” I said.
“Mandy, this is the best one,” Ben said. “You know what they say…”
I didn’t know what THEY say. I didn’t even know who THEY were.
“Enlighten me,” I replied.
“The five year reunion sucks because no one has accomplished anything yet. Most are graduating from university and that’s about it. It’s basically a second prom. Everyone looks and acts the same. The ten year…well that’s all about who has what. It’s about who has the hottest car and the highest paying job and the best looking husband or wife. It’s so superficial. But the twenty year…”
He stopped and sipped from his latte, slowly, enjoying his own suspense. He looked at all of us and then took another looooong sip.
“Ben,” I said. “If you don’t hurry up with this lesson, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
“Eww, slut.”
He continued.
“Okay, so the twenty year reunion is different. By now, half the class has gotten divorced, most of the popular whores are single mothers, and most of the hot jocks are stocking the soda machines at local universities. There’s bound to be a crack addict or two, at least one nerd is super successful, and a handful of the coolest kids…”
Ben pointed a finger from each hand down at himself.
“Like this guy,” he added. “Have turned out to be gay and fabulous.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jill declared.
I whipped my head around and glared at her.
“You were a class ahead of us,” I argued. “Your twenty year was last year and you said you weren’t going because you didn’t even like seeing half of those mean and ugly bastards on social media.”
“Yes, I hated my class. But yours. I was the older and wiser one and I fucked the shit out of a couple of the guys from your class.”
“Jay Cunning, I know,” I said.
“He was one of many,” she replied. “But who cares. The point is, I’m going, and I’m going to get me some repeat dick if you know what I mean.”
“Me tooo!” Ben said as he lifted up a hand to high-five Jill.
“You weren’t even gay in high school,” I reminded him.
Ben leaned forward as if he were about to tell me the greatest secret of all time.
“Honey, I been gay all my life. Let’s just say that some people found out before you did.”
Found out? This was the guy who walked through the school halls singing Summer Nights from Grease, both the male and female lyrics. His sexual orientation wasn’t much of a mystery.
But it was settled. Whether I wanted to or not, I’d be going to my twenty year reunion. I wished I could be happy about possibly getting some repeat dick but I couldn’t remember a single dick I’d consider sucking or fucking again. My virginity was snatched away when I was fifteen and it hurt and it didn’t feel special and I didn’t even like the guy all that much. My friend had lost hers and I kind of felt like I was behind and needed to play catch up. So I caught up.
I know, poor me. Poor Mandy. Fuck that. Sex is great now and I’m glad I lost it when I did. It gave me a chance to experience the bad before finding out what the good feels like.
***
I’m not sure why we all feel the need to dress up and impress people at a reunion. I didn’t care about impressing them back in the day so why would I care about impressing them now?
It would be so much cheaper and probably much more impressive if we all showed up in nothing but a towel and flip flops. I almost voiced my thought, but I knew Jill would totally agree, and might try to force me to go in matching outfits. I’m confident in myself but not enough to show up with the post-shower look.
I’m thirty-seven years old and proud to say I’m considered a MILF by a poker playing, money shot loving, gym employee. Yes, I’m the shit. I’m what they call a new adult. I’m a strong woman with a great sex drive and a pussy that often craves a man’s touch. I have to admit, that I was looking forward to finding a sexy dress for this shindig.
Maybe dressing to impress is my way of saying, “Watch out Class of 1996, Mandy is coming and if there’s a slightly attractive guy in the house, I’m going to sit on his face before the night is over!”
Fuck yeah! Besides, face sitting is good for your soul. Someone said that. I don’t remember who. Or maybe it was in a fortune cookie or something. Ha! Can you imagine opening a fortune cookie and the message says, “Tonight is your night. You will ride a mustache before the sun rises. Face sitting is good for your soul.”
Now that I think about it, everything would be better if you could do it while riding a face. Think about it.
Folding laundry sucks. But if you could fold laundry while having your pussy eaten…that’s what you call winning.
Doing dishes? Horrible. Doing dishes while bent over as he tongues you from behind? Epic.
Watching the entire series of Sex in the City from season one to six…while riding a face? Can I get a hell yeah?
In the meantime, until I was able to sit around and have my pussy eaten through every mundane facet of life, I had a strong desire to look my best at the reunion, so I dragged Ben to the mall. He needed a new outfit too. Jill would look good no matter what she wore so she was on her own.
So Ben and I hit the new galleria in our area in search of some sexy new threads.
“We need to go see Braden Bot,” he informed me.
“Oh…come one,” I begged. “Not today. My hormones are all out of whack already and every time I see him I think of jumping his bones.”
“And what’s wrong with that? I like you better after you’ve had sex. You’re easier to deal with.”
“Fuck off.”
“My point, exactly.”
I didn’t want to see Braden Bot. He was a big hunk who looked a lot like Braden but meatier. He was Braden with a lot more muscles and a lot less wit. He was the robotic, plug-him-in-and-charge-him-up-then-fuck-the-shit-out-of-him-without-getting-too-emotionally-involved, souped up version of my man. Where Braden left what could be described as an emotional aching between my legs, his musclebound alter ego left a physical one. The guy’s cock was huge. Wait…let me set the scene for you.
The first time I met him I was with Ben, a lot like this shopping trip, looking for something he could wear on a date. Braden Bot didn’t care one iota about Ben’s need for a suit that screamed, “Bend me over and fuck me in the ass.” Those were Ben’s words, not mine. That’s what he called it, a bend-me-over-and-fuck-me-in-the-ass suit. Who was I to argue?
While Ben did his shopping on his own, Braden Bot spent his time checking me out. And I’m not going to lie. I was eyeing his package through his designer suit. I could see the outline of his cock pressing against the fabric.
Now, every girl says she wants a gigantic cock. It’s a fact. We all think we want one. It sounds great, a cock that can hit our inner throat and scrape our vaginal walls. Looks good in all the porn videos. Yum. Right?
Wrong.
It sounds perfect but in reality too big can be too much to handle. Trust me. I know. And my dildo is no shrimp. That thing makes a major thud when I lay it on the bed. But it doesn’t come close to the size of Braden Bot.
He took me for lunch in the mall food court. Come on, don’t laugh. Go easy on the guy. He was on his lunch break. I can enjoy Sbarro from time to time. I don’t need to be taken to damn Benihana for every date. So we enjoyed our slices of pepperoni pie. That’s what he called it. With that New Jersey accent of his.
“I can always go for a slice or two but I been known to eat a whole pie.”
“Pie?” I asked.
Images of him sitting on the couch, porn on TV, with a big ass blueberry pastry in his lap filled my mind. That could be my future with the guy.
“Yeah, a pizza pie. You know.”
Then I did know.
“What you thought I meant an apple pie or somethin?” he asked.
I shrugg
ed my shoulders and smiled.
“I guess.”
“Well I like that kind of pie too. So…how’s about later we go get a pie? A real pie.”
That’s how he asked me out on our first real date.
You don’t need to hear about the date. It wasn’t very special. We did go to a nice restaurant where we did chow down on a peach cobbler and he did take me to a romantic movie where he did eventually put his hand on my inner thigh and work his way up until the point where I’d forgotten about the movie and was dry humping the hand he had sliding back and forth between my legs.
Was that a run-on sentence? That has to be a run-on sentence. You have to stop to catch a breath while reading it. Try it. Read it again without coming up for air.
Ok now that you’re out of breath reading it again without breathing, you know how I felt by the end of the movie. I was slightly lightheaded and ready to fuck the Jersey boy with the big cock.
We took the date to my place. Candlelight, warm vanilla sugar candles, and you know we only whip those out when shit’s about to get real. Well shit got real!
I’ll skip to the part where Braden Bot was lying on his back, hands folded behind his head, cock up and looking super delicious, the kind of cock we all say we want. The cock of dreams. The cock that if we’re able to survive it, it should be stuffed and hung up on the wall the way daddy used to hang deer heads.
Ha, can you imagine? A giant, drooped over cock glued to a wooden plaque? And you’d have to explain it to guests like, “In the summer of 2016 I crept quietly up on this sleeping member. It had wandered off from the herd of…what would you call a group of cocks?
A herd sounds strange. A school of cocks? A gaggle of cocks? A brood of…no, wait, got it. A colony of cocks. Yes, that’s it.
“It had wandered off from the colony of cocks and I surprised it with my tenacity, leaping onto it and smothering it with my swollen vagina.”
Sorry, I have to stop going off on these tangents. I must bore you to tears with my rambling.
A colony of cocks. Love it.
So Braden Bot was poised and ready. His cock glistened with my saliva and I should have known how much of a challenge this would be from how hard it was to suck the damn thing. The corners of my mouth hurt the way it hurt when I was a kid and I used to try to eat those popsicles in the plastic tube, the kind you had to cut the top off with scissors, and the sharp as hell sides of the thing always cut into the corners of your mouth. Remember those?
Well…his dick hurt my mouth.
But still, I tried. Nobody likes a quitter. I wanted to be on top so I could be somewhat in control. The thought of him forcing himself into me as he did the hippy hippy shake was frightening.
I grabbed his cock in both hands, feeling like a fucking monkey about to climb a tree, and lowered myself onto it. I remember thinking I sounded a bit like Santa Claus as the head made its way past my pussy lips.
“Hooo…hooo…hooo,” I huffed and puffed.
It hurt. Badly. Like someone was trying to shove a baby back in me.
He was in me less than half way when I had to give up. I just couldn’t. It was so fucking painful that I had to lie next to him and give him a hand job. Not even my mouth could handle that thing. Like a lover leaving and breaking his heart, I said things like…
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
“One day you’ll find a special girl who can handle you.”
“You deserve more…better than me.”
“There are plenty of other fish in the sea, fish with really wide pussies who can handle a big pole. I’m more like a catch and release kind of fish.”
So, now, as Ben shopped for a suit for the reunion, I was face to face with the deer head that would never hang from my wall.
“It’s been a long time,” Braden Bot said.
I think his real name was Paulie or something like that but I liked my nickname better.
“It has,” I agreed.
“I thought you were going to call me.”
“I’m still recovering,” I said.
And I was, psychologically. The guy’s cock scared the shit out of me.
When I turned to see how Ben was doing with his shopping, I felt something press against my lower back. He was taller than me and his gigantic member felt like what I imagined a gun would feel like when being kidnapped at gunpoint. His pistol dug into the small of my back.
You know that moment when you haven’t been fucked in a long time and you make bad decisions because your panties are wet and you’re imagining things you know you wouldn’t be if all were normal on your sexual timeline? This was that moment.
“You smell good,” he said with his mouth right at my ear.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against his massive chest. Ben was busy on the other side of the store so we were practically alone.
“I want to see you again,” he said.
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“You can. I know you want to.”
With that, his hand settled on my waist, and then his fingers made their way down lower, touching the tender spot on my inner thigh. Fuck, it was the right move. The heavy feel of his paw against me felt so manly, so right. Like he was letting me know that I was his and it was such a fucking turn on.
Before I knew it, I’d reached back behind me and found his cock. I squeezed him through his slacks. My hand couldn’t reach all the way around him. He was that damn big.
“Come on,” he said.
He reached his other hand around me, placed it over my tits, and pulled me by my chest and lower belly into a changing room. He closed the door behind us and locked it. In the mirror, I saw him standing behind me, towering over me, and I wanted him.
He yanked my dress over my head and hung it on the hook. I was afraid but horny at the same time. I knew I couldn’t fuck him but figured it was worth a second try. I took off my own bra and hung it over my dress. My tits were exposed but I didn’t care. I lifted my right tit up and glanced into his eyes, lowering my gaze to let him know where I wanted his mouth.
Then he was on me.
He ate my right tit with the ferocity of a beast. He hadn’t been kidding. He missed me and wanted me. As he sucked on my nipple, I unfastened his belt, undid his button, and threw his pants and underwear down to his ankles.
His cock fell out and bounced off my stomach. I pinned it against him as I gripped his ass and tried not to moan.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he said.
“Show me.”
He took both of my tits and smooshed them together, lashing at them with his tongue. I wanted to howl. I’ve always been fond of having my tits played with, and this guy was working it. Holy shit was he working it.
His cock was hard against my stomach and I couldn’t resist. I took it in my hand, loving the warmth and smoothness of it. I pulled up with my fist, bringing his skin up as far as I could, then gently stroked downward, pulling him tight. Then I did it again and again, pumping his gigantic cock with my hand.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
“Huh?”
“Turn the fuck around.”
He grabbed my arm and spun me around. He slapped both of my hands against the mirror so that I was leaning forward, staring at myself and seeing him behind me. He was aggressive and I loved it.
“Stay like that and don’t move.”
Then I remembered the last time I’d tried to fuck him and I was afraid. Until he dropped to his knees. The smack surprised me but stung deliciously.
“Oh fuck,” I said. “Again.”
He slapped my ass again. Then he pried open my legs. His giant hands clawed my ass and pussy, stretching them wide. He hoisted my ass up in the air and buried his mouth in me. His nose pressed into my asshole and felt fucking awesome.
His tongue. It dug into me, fucking me. He wasn’t soft and slow like most guys. He wanted to taste me and wanted to go as deep as his mouth would allow. The slurping sound was s
uch a fucking turn on.
“Mmm,” he said. Then slurp. “Mmm.” Slurp.
I was dripping onto his lips and he was licking it up.
My mouth hung open in the mirror and my eyes rolled back. I was in heaven. Braden Bot was eating the shit out of me. I reconsidered my plan to ditch the guy. I could definitely go for this treatment more often.
“I told you I like pie,” he said.
It was cheesy but I didn’t care.
Slippery When Wet (A Romance Novella): Maybe Mandy 3 Page 2
