by KT Morrison
He threw her on the bed and she clamoured. Now she acted like she was trying to get away from him. She turned onto her belly and scrambled for the other side.
She said, “No, no, you get away from me,” breathy and passionate. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her towards him with ease. She was powerless. She felt his hands on her hips and he lifted her up and pulled her towards him. She tilted herself up to him, let him see her sex and swayed her hips. She felt him stab his thing into her and she gasped.
“Oh, that’s it,” she said, relieved at last.
He made love to her like that from behind, her bare ass turned up to him as it was bent over the edge of the bed. She gasped with his thrusts and he hammered his hips into her. Their whole bed shook with the effort, rattling the table lamps next to the bed.
It felt so good and it felt like it went on forever. She gasped out for him to stop when it got to be too much. Her whole body tingled and she felt like she wanted to scream, she writhed as he popped himself out of her. When she made love she felt like something was building, or like she was climbing. But she never got to the top, she started to get itchy and ticklish between her legs and it stopped her. She never got herself over the top. She never got her legs over and jumped down the other side. Didn’t mean she didn’t love every minute of it.
“Jus give me a minute,” she said, and she lay on her belly still, her legs rubbing together and her hand soothing her folds. Trying to push away that uncomfortable tingle.
Troy threw himself down next to her, his weight shaking the bed. He lay on his side and watched her. She turned to him, looked him in his eyes.
She decided she was going to do it tonight after all. She said, “Promise you won’t be mad?”
“Mad about what?”
“I was really bad today.”
“The cake?”
“No, worse,” she said, and cuddled herself into his huge hard body. Her hand felt down his tight stomach, down between his legs and found his little hard-on. She stroked him with her fingertips, he was still wet from her insides.
“What did you do, Emma?”
“Well, I was out shoppin and I was runnin errands and it was jus so hot out. There was this cute boy at the Post Office, and he had these satiny shorts on—they were real short. Well, I saw him bend over to pick up the box he was mailin and I could see he had this big bulge...you know, I could see it from behind so I thought he must just have really big...” she paused, then got right up to his ear, whispered, “balls.”
“Uh-huh,” Troy said. His eyes had closed and he was rock hard under her touch.
“So when he stood up I wanted to see what he looked like in the front of his shorts. Well, I guess when he bent over it had fallen out of his underwear—or maybe he wasn’t even wearin any, I don’t know. I looked down and I could see the end of his thing hanging out of his shorts.”
She could feel Troy quivering now. He was too close. She’d have to speed this up. She had him roll onto his back and she straddled his big thighs and got her hand back on his pecker. He was leaking now, his clear stuff streaming out under her fingers.
“So I saw his hands were full and I didn’t want him to get into trouble for exposin himself, so I reached down and I took it in my hand and I scrunched it up and tucked it in there; stuffed it back in.”
“You did? You touched him without asking?”
“He didn’t mind—he thanked me. But then I jus couldn’t stop thinkin about it. It felt so nice and warm. And it was soft Troy, but even still, it was so much bigger than what I have here and you’re as hard as can be. It put such a shiver in me; it made me wonder how I could stay with a man who has such a tiny little thing.”
“So what’d you do?”
“Well,” she paused like she was ashamed to tell him. She stroked him quicker now, her thumb and finger circled around it. His balls went up inside when he got hard but she pushed on his belly around his pecker and squeezed them into his sack so she could play with them. “Well, I never mailed those packages—I hope that’s okay. Once he was done I followed him out to his car. When he got in I jumped in the passenger seat, I was sure glad it wasn’t locked. Well, he was pretty surprised but he figured why I’d come out. I told him I wanted to see it and he said he’d let me.”
“Uh-mm,” he said. He wasn’t going to make it. She watched those abs like bricks heaving and pushing up against his thin skin. He had his hands up over his eyes now, just grooving with what she was telling him.
“He was a little harder now, not hard enough to make love yet, but hard enough that it looked pretty mean all wrinkled and hairy, layin in his lap. Did you know other men were so much bigger than you?”
“Ah...”
“So I told him, Mister, I want to see that thing when it’s hard. And I took it in my pretty little hand and it just felt so good, it felt so big, I couldn’t wait—”
Troy went off before she knew it. He shot a stream straight up that slapped on his chest.
“Oh, Troy!” she said, and she got a hand out by the end of his thing. Held it out like a splashguard while she continued to stroke him with her other hand. She felt his hot streams pump into her palm. He kept flexing his little thing, pushing it into her fist with his hips. She kept stroking, and he kept shooting his stuff into her other hand. “Good gravy, Troy, now you’re jus showin off!”
He groaned when she said it and he kept spurting but it was just splashing onto his stomach a bit. She’d kept it off the bedspread which was good because she’d just changed the bed this morning.
“My word, Troy, you really needed that, didn’t you?” she said. She got herself off from him and hopped into the bathroom. She held her hands together, cupped, palms up, and they were filled with his hot seed. She got them under the tap and rinsed herself off with soapy water. She got a clean towel from the linen cupboard and got herself back to him. She threw herself into the crook of his outstretched arm. He looked exhausted.
“You really liked that one did you?”
“I couldn’t even hold on.”
“That was a lot of stuff came out of you,” she said as she scrubbed him with the fluffy towel that smelled of laundry. “I worked really hard on that one and you barely got to hear it. I didn’t even get to tell you what his penis looked—”
“Don’t ruin it, you can still use it,” he said.
“Yeah, but I liked the part where I tucked it back in his shorts. That was my favourite bit.” She dabbed between her legs with a clean corner of the towel, then put an arm over his chest, her palm on his cannonball of a shoulder. He turned his face to her and she kissed him. Breathed in while she did it, felt the tingle through her fingertips and toes; she was so in love with him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“It’s a great cake. They’re going to love it.”
3
They had the car packed the night before, and they were ready to go first thing in the morning, but Emma insisted on making them breakfast first. Troy smiled at her in bed, said he was all in. This day had been scheduled as his cheat day for three weeks now. Today he would gorge. He was looking for excess calories, and today would be perfect, going to a barbecue at his old friend’s house and all. A homemade meal from his beautiful wife as she proudly and happily took on the important role of homemaker sounded like the best way to kick it off. He told her make anything she wants.
So they had french toast and bacon, maple syrup, and she made her own hash too. They ate together in the breakfast nook and he talked to her about work, let her know how it was going and then she worked out on the map how to get to Abilene, how long it would take, what they’d pay in tolls.
He could tell she was nervous. She did not like parties. Not big outdoor summer ones with a lot of people at least. He wished he could just swipe her anxiety away. The thought of something troubling her, putting a crease in her perfect pale brow, made him angry or something. He wished it would be an object he could crush with hi
s fist. He would protect her to the end. But it was just silly nerves, so he put a hand over hers and hoped it might calm her.
They locked up and headed out at around eleven in the morning. They took Troy’s Hyundai SUV, and Emma packed her cake in the cargo and boxed it in place with a milk crate and Troy’s gym bag to keep it safe.
It was perfect weather for a barbecue today, it was hot and the sky was pale blue and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. The drive was pretty uneventful, Emma had her iPhone plugged in to the stereo and she listened to an NPR podcast that was all about book reviews. Somewhere on the One-Eighty-Three, near Lake Brownwood, some idiot in a Rav4 wandered right into his lane. It made Troy jolt the wheel but they swerved back in time. Troy punched it to catch up and look at this numbskull, he swore they were texting. Emma slapped his arm, mad at his erratic driving. She said, “Troy, you mess my cake, I swear I’m going to strangle you.” For whatever reason it made him laugh really hard, which made her laugh too. He thought how bad he would feel if he had tipped it or something and he promised himself to pay better attention.
Walt’s place was in a really nice suburb outside of Abilene. His old friend had married a young lady whose father was a surgeon—Troy thought it was plastic surgery—and he had a practice in Tulsa. Walt didn’t say it, but the father must have had something to do with them getting such a big place. They pulled up and they could see the house about a quarter mile from the street. They had acres of grass that separated them from the road and there were maybe thirty cars parked there. They went up the drive and settled themselves in with the other cars. The house itself was a huge suburban thing, had to be four thousand square feet, with peaked slate roofs, and tall windows with white trim.
When they got out they could hear the music coming from the backyard, people yelling and splashing in the pool. He felt for Emma, knew that had to make her tense. When they were at the back of the car with the hatch open he squeezed her to him and kissed the top of her head. She got her things together, her hat, her big straw purse, and picked up her cake.
“It’s scorching hot, Troy.”
“You make sure you put on your sunscreen.”
“I know.”
Troy just had a plain shirt on and some khaki shorts. He had his trunks in Emma’s bag. Emma had a loose button-up shirt over her bikini and a wrap around her like a skirt that went right down to her feet. She wore a big brimmed raffia hat to keep the sun off her.
They walked up the drive, past all the other cars. There must have been a hundred people there. They got to the front door and it was open and they just walked in. The place was beautiful inside too, with high ceilings and a big open kitchen with stainless and marble everything. Troy gave Emma his Wow face.
He spied Walt and his wife Olivia in the kitchen. Olivia was talking to an older couple and Walt was face first in the fridge. Troy goosed him and made him jump.
“What’s up, partner?” he said.
“Damn it, Troy, I hit my head—let me get you a beer.” Beer was on the menu today and it sounded great because it was so hot.
“Aw, hey, Emma,” Walt’s face lit up when he saw her behind Troy and he kissed her cheek.
“What in the world is that?”
“I made you guys a cake,” she said, and her face looked pained.
“You did, girl? Hey, Olivia...”
Olivia came over and gushed that she had gone to the trouble. They looked genuinely touched. Olivia touched her chest, said, “Bless your heart, Emma.”
Troy hadn’t seen them in the longest time. It was tough keeping together now that they were out of school. Emma knew Walt but she had only met Olivia one other time. Troy hoped they’d get along but they were quite different. Olivia was a Princess, and very much about looking good. She was nice and she was great for Walt, but as far as being a friend to Emma, they would be an unlikely pair.
Troy looked at his old buddy. Walt hadn’t grown up. Still partied like a kid, dressed like a kid. He had grown outwards though. All that bulk he would throw into guys at forty yards in four seconds had smoothed out and slumped. He still looked capable but it was a bad sign for someone only twenty-five.
And all he wanted to talk about was football. Troy obliged, he could also talk about football forever, but he could see Emma in the corner of his eye and she was looking around. If they’d talked about engineering or something she could be a part of it. But football?
“Hey, girl,” Walt said, “Why don’t you get your suit on and get to the pool. Olivia’s out there with some of the girls, grab yourself a drink and maybe have a dip...”
Emma looked around and twisted up her mouth, then she kissed Troy’s cheek and told him she’d be by the pool.
“I’ll be right out in a moment, baby,” he said.
Emma got herself a wine cooler which could be trouble because she almost never drank. She just felt so self-conscious without a drink in her hand and she didn’t want to have a Coke. She picked up the wine cooler, a raspberry one, it was nice but it was so sweet she might as well have had a Coke. She wandered around trying to find some way to situate herself that wouldn’t be too conspicuous or too in the way.
She didn’t know anybody here and she felt awkward. And the crowd was the type that always intimidated her. The boys were frat boys even though they were all out of school and grown men now. There was a lot of drinking. She watched some guys and their girlfriends playing beer pong—kept far back enough no one would think to ask her to join in. It was hot out and she was worried about her skin. She did not like the sun and it definitely didn’t like her either.
She was getting some looks from boys and it made her uncomfortable. It was just so hot out, her bikini was perfect, and all the girls were wearing them. But she felt like she was on display. It was too hot and too weird to not be in her swimsuit by the pool on such a hot day. She’d nervously put her wrap and her shirt into her big straw bag. She just wished Troy would show up.
Olivia put her arm around her shoulder and it made her jump. “Come and talk to us over here, Emma,” she said.
Emma looked over and saw a group of intimidating girls standing with wine in their hands watching her from behind their sunglasses. She went over to them and Olivia introduced them to her but she was too nervous to catch their names.
“This is Troy’s wife, he and Walt went to Georgia together. Troy wrestled right?”
“Yes, Division 1.”
“That’s Troy over there?” one of them asked looking over the top of her sunglasses.
Emma followed where she was looking and saw Troy talking with Walt over by the stairs up to the hot tub. He had his shirt off and his sunglasses on. Her heart warmed just seeing him. Please, come over here.
“Yes, that’s my Troy,” she said.
“God Damn,” she said.
Emma bristled—Lord’s name and all—but she appreciated the compliment.
“He’s a dime-piece,” another one said. She was tall and beautiful with a tan and the blackest hair.
“What’s that?” Emma asked.
“He’s a ten out of ten,” she answered with her eyebrows way up high.
“Yes, he is,” Emma said.
Olivia had been straightening out a pretty, patterned sarong and then folding into a triangle. Now she put her arms around Emma’s waist with it, then tied it in a knot on her hip. Emma was startled.
Olivia leaned into her, said, “You’ve got handprints on your ass.”
Emma felt her face go red. She felt so embarrassed. She saw them looking at her, then she felt the heat across her chest, knew she was going red across there too. She looked down.
“He a little rough with you?” the girl with the black hair said, looking at Troy.
“Oh no, it’s not like that,” Emma said. She fidgeted with her hair—wished she had a rocket on her back and she could just pull a cord and blast on out of there.
“He looks like he could be real good at rough,” the black-haired one said.
“Oh my goodness,” Emma said, she was so humiliated. But they laughed.
Olivia held her arm. “It’s okay, sugar, don’t be embarrassed. We all get a little crazy.”
A couple of them toasted the idea, and it made Emma smile.
She’d found her spot and she camped out with those girls, too afraid to wander off and not find another group; be stuck out there by herself, the tall electric white girl with the red hair and the sun hat. So she stood with them and they were funny and friendly, some of their jokes were a little dirty for her, but they were the best thing going at the moment. She had a few more wine coolers and kind of enjoyed the funny feeling they gave her.
A nice-looking boy came up with a tray of drinks for them. He was bringing it over, carefully walking so he wouldn’t spill them. He’d addressed them, called out. Emma took a step forward to help him.
Another boy by the pool turned then, real quick, and he darted in behind the one with the tray. Emma gasped thinking he was going to knock him over but he just crouched down behind him. Then in one fell swoop, quick as lightning, he pulled down the boy-with-the-tray’s swim trunks. Emma put her hands over her mouth. The boy with the tray jumped and she saw his penis swinging between his legs. It was the biggest thing she’d seen. Big as the ones she would see online and she could tell he was soft as could be.
“You asshole!” he yelled to the guy who’d done it, who was running off and laughing, shirtless and drunk. “Oh my gosh, could you grab my shorts,” he said.
She was so flustered she did it. She bent down and grabbed his shorts and she pulled them up to his knees. She snuck a look at his thing. She couldn’t believe it. She was face to face with an honest-to-goodness Big Dick. Really big. She was so excited. She was embarrassed for the guy nonetheless, it must have been pretty embarrassing for him, even if he had a real nice one. She got the shorts up to it and he moved the tray to the side and she hiked them up over it. She watched his balls and his big, fat, fleshy thing come up, hang over the shorts, then the whole package slap up against his belly as she tugged them up, then it was gone, hidden away again.
