We have kind of walked it all back, from PDA, voyeurism, and role playing to your everyday embarrassing parents who are in bed before the sun sets, and that can be taken out by a bowl of ice cream. We met and used to live on the edge, and now we are at the summit, clawing to stay relevant. We’re not even trying and honestly can’t be bothered as much as we are just trying not to hurt ourselves and coast into retirement within the next twenty years. We are at the age where some consider hanging up their hat, but some things are just too difficult to quit. I used to have to work to get mine, but now I make him work. And yeah I’m talking about mopping floors and doing chores, because these knees are classics now and shouldn’t be wasted on menial tasks, plus when a man does the laundry, dishes and eat everything I put in front of him, then his efforts deserve to be reciprocated, and if that means me getting on my knees after throwing my hair in a blowjob pony and taking a load myself, so be it.
Back in the beginning, he was all that and a bag of chips. I was young and relatively new to the scene until he put me on the fast track to earning the tenure I enjoy now. I met him when he was stationed at a nearby base, and I was working my way through college as a beer tub girl at the only club in town, which was just off base. He by any standards was Top Gun material, so clean and sharp in his dress blues that matched his pretty eyes, you could tell he would have a thick head of hair if he didn’t have to keep it high and tight, and don’t get me started on those thick eyelashes and brows that only made his eyes pop even more. He was the best of the best, and you could see that by how the crowds would naturally gravitate towards him. Though he was just as much a magnet for trouble, and there always seemed to be someone gunning to knock him off the mountain, it was clear to me that he never looked for trouble but didn’t run from it either.
It all began one night and still sticks in my mind after all our years together. My beer tub was just off the dance floor, and he was in the zone, out there dancing alone like he does. He loved to dance, even if alone, and that was never for too long. He would dance with anyone who wanted to dance and just loved to cut loose. This particular night, he was attracting the ire of this guy dancing close because his girl also couldn’t keep her eyes off him. So the guy kept going out of the way in an attempt to assert his dominance by elbowing him in the back when they were dancing, and after several blatant elbows, and attempts by John to ignore them, by simply knocking his elbows down like annoying flies, the guy faced off on him, and I mean that literally. It happened so fast that I was the only witness to the whole thing. All anyone else would’ve seen was the dance floor opening up like a parting sea. The guy had pushed John, then got in his face, and John grabbed the guy by the back of the head and headbutted him three times before the guy even knew what hit him. The guy just stumbled backward across the dance floor before laying out. John simply walked off the floor, and nobody but me and the guy’s girl had a clue, and she, like me, simply watched him casually stroll away. Needless to say, that whole incident closed the club, and the cops came and took statements, and neither I nor the guy’s girl could provide any helpful information. Somehow, the police found John in the crowd, and the guy even refused to press charges because of something nobody heard John whisper to him once the cop stepped away from them.
I watched everything from the peripheries and was in total wanderlust about how this guy handled the whole situation. He wasn’t your typical Alpha male as he tried to stay in the shadows, and I’d consider him more a Sigma. Morbid curiosity had me following him over to his motorcycle, and I oddly confessed that I witnessed the whole thing. I then noticed what looked like blood in his brow and asked if he was okay, and he ran his hand through his hair and said that the blood wasn’t his. It seemed at first that he was cold-blooded, matter of fact, and calculating, and even that had me so turned on that I felt like a crushing school girl. I couldn’t believe the next words that came out of my f’n mouth. I asked him if he’d like to come back to my place so that I could “clean him up.” WTF?!? He gave me the most wimcycle look in response, with furrowed brows and slight smirk, highlighting the beginning of just one of his sexy dimples, before he put his helmet in my hands and told me to put it on and point the way. I was temporarily flummoxed and wanted to tell him that we could take my car before I thought better of it, and put on the helmet and pointed due east like some hunting dog in the direction of my home. What was I thinking? I was bringing an obviously violent guy I barely knew to my home so that I could what “clean him up”?
Talking about a crushing school girl, I was on the back of a motorcycle with my arms wrapped around this enigma, and all I could think about was how ripped his abs were while I read him like a blind girl in braille. Definitely an eight-pack, and I desperately wanted to drop my hand down to his motorcycle stick shift to find out what else we were working with. What the fuck is wrong with me I thought as we leaned into some tight turns and I squeezed tighter thinking about how excited I already was having a fat machine between my legs, and yet wanting something more. It was a cool night with lots of stars in the sky and it didn’t cross my mind once that I could be bringing a serial killer home, and honestly if it would’ve, I think I might have welcomed him in with a gallon of milk, some duct tape, or even better, some rope, and asked him to take his time. I had no idea what I was doing and wasn’t thinking at all. Not once did the state of my home come to mind; if it was clean, anything embarrassing left out, like my dildo, dirty panties etc…nothing but carnal lust was coursing through my veins, and I was more worried that any extemporaneous thinking would only jinx it, so I just went with the flow, like the flesh-craving zombie I was.
Again, I wasn’t thinking at all, and when we walked into my place, though I did managed to ask if he wanted a drink? He ran his hand through his hair again and said that he’d really like to wash up first. I had no idea how to interpret anything he was saying, and I again pointed like a hunting dog to my bathroom. He started to disrobe by taking off his shirt, and all I could do is stare in awe as he continued by stepping out of his boots, undoing his belt, pushing down his pants and briefs and stepping out of those as well. I must have looked so challenged standing there, all slack-jawed and pointing to the bathroom still. He grabbed my index finger, shook it to bring me back to reality, and said shamon. I replied that he could go first and that there were towels in there to help himself. He facetiously asked if I had some clothes that I’d like him to change into after his shower, and before we fucked? I still couldn’t process anything he was saying and that may have been because of his beautiful swinging cock had me hypnotized. How could I not stare!? Tick-tock, tick-tock, with the big hand making my mouth water, among other things. I wasn’t in my right mind, and for a millisecond, I questioned my actions. He derailed me again when he told me to get nekkid and join him. I asked him if he could give me a minute to pee first. He was still walking us by my index finger, and as we walked into the bathroom, he stepped aside and showed me my toilet and said that it was my house. Still confused, I tried to usher him out of the bathroom, but he stood his ground, grabbed me by my face, and kissed away any brain I had left.
The next thing I knew I was completely in the buff, sitting there peeing right in front of him, and it took all my willpower not to grab that gorgeous cock which was then hanging at eye level, and devour it right then and there on the toilet; what have I become? I couldn’t even look at it, because I didn’t trust myself not to pounce on it like a crackhead. I was even asking God knows who, how many hail marys for my sins, and I’m not all that religious. Again, he grabbed me by my face and kissed me, this time, jump-starting my brain again as he told me that he’d start the shower. I was such a good girl that I didn’t ring that bell like Quasimodo because I so desperately wanted to. I patted myself on the back, wiped my vajayjay, and took another minute to just soak up my view.
So to summarize, I picked up a cold blooded killer, brought him to my home where I just dropped my linen and pissed right in front of him, where I sat mesmerized by watching him rinse. Let me paint that disturbing picture for you. I’m watching this red waterfall of blood rinse down all over his beautiful physique, and somehow, that made me even hotter. I took in everything, especially how the water eventually washed clean on off the head of his thick veiny cock. I pinched myself for real and was so happy to realize that I was awake and that this was happening to me, just as he held out his hand for me to join him. It was almost chivalrous, that little gesture of him putting his hand out for me to take as I stepped into the shower to join him. Out of nowhere I confessed that I couldn’t believe that I just peed in front of him to which he quipped, if I hadn’t anticipated fucking him anyway? I stuttered but, but, before he grabbed my hand and brought it to his cock and told me to watch my aim, and that he hoped it made us even. So there I stood with a serial killer’s cock in my hand, in the shower and still had no idea what I was doing, especially when he started to pee and reminded me to watch my aim.
Man, there is something so wrong with me. I was enjoying it way too much; it is empowering to hold a cock while. I felt the strength of his flow and had fun directing it down the drain after my initial fascination of directing everywhere else like a firehose. He might have been more a shower than a grower, and it wasn’t lost on me that it did grow slightly in my hand. I had to check myself, and forced myself to relinquish his cock from my grip after a couple tutorial milk and shakes of it, but it was not out of sight or mind. He kissed me again, and another infusion of oxygen helped as he moved me under the shower, put my head into his chest, and proceeded to wash my hair. I think I mumbled “I do”, as he massaged my scalp while I continued to watch the soapy water wash once again off the head of his cock. My hands gravitated to it again, and I held it in my hands and watched it grow out of them. So he was equally the grower as the shower, and before I knew it, I was giving him an impromptu tongue bath. I sucked his growing cock like it was a fat bong. I toked on the head of his delicious cock while stroking with one hand and lighting his balls in the other. In hindsight, I might have been more self-conscious, but there was none of that with him. I tried to kill myself on that thing, as he washed and massaged down my back and over my ass where he found my waiting, already slick hot holes.
The shower got suddenly crowded with the horizontal space challenged by his substantial cock that we decided to lather and rinse each other, and kissed heatedly all while admittedly, I could not bring myself to relinquish my grip on that dick. We exited the shower, and I futilely towel dried, knowing that there was not any amount of toweling that was going to soak up the mess between my legs. He stated that it was his turn as he backed me up to my bed, picked me up like I was a rag doll, kissed me heatedly again, before throwing me into the middle of the bed and pausing as if he was just taking in the view. I reached for his hand, and he withdrew it and told me to show him. I knew what he meant and felt ashamed, but I did it anyway. I fell back and locked eyes with him as he stood over me. I started by tweaking my nipples hard for purely the aesthetics of it before I opened my legs wide and found my growing nub. I was ridiculously wet, and after I slid two of my fingers inside of me and then brought them to my mouth for a delicious taste test, I used my juices to lube up my chubeta. I pulled her taut and smashed my growing clit until I was literally cumming at the seams. I had to gather my mini orgasm and rub them in while he stood over me and teased me with his third leg. All my holes were screaming to be punished by it when he asked me where I wanted it. I responded everywhere, and he said again, “Show me”?
Okay, I may have needed an intervention by that point, but he had a way of looking or willing me to do things I’d never. I first used my juices to slide my finger inside me, then two before using the newly glazed one to slip into my ass. All the while remember, that I had a serial killer standing over my body with his fat threatening cock in hand promising to club me to death with it. I was dying to be had, and my holes were puckering around my own fingers when he dropped to his knees for his close-up. I spread myself taut again and watched deliberately as his tongue jousted with my ragging clit. I thought I might die when he took my clit in between his teeth and nibbled just hard enough, and raked my labia with his teeth, before then sucking my whole pussy up and released it with the pop you’d expect from the release of suction you’d get from a vacuum, and he did that on repeat. When he was done, I felt like a male because all of my blood was between my legs, all my holes were dancing like at a rave for more, and when he stood up at the side of the bed and effortlessly pulled me to the edge, I knew what time it was.
He pulled a bunch of bedding under my shoulders and told me to drive again. What instantly came back to mind was me holding his cock while he pissed, and that was all the recollection I needed. I had his cock in my hand and got to watch as I pulled it through my pearly gates, and the fat head of his cock broke inside me. Watching hits different, let me tell you about it? I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck as we both watched his cock continue to break me. He was thick, and it required me to manually spread and adjust myself around it, and thankfully, I was plenty wet. Seeing his cock being stuffed inside me, and pulling all the surrounding skin even more taut had me literally on edge already. He broke through slowly enough to thoroughly lubricate his cock in a silky sheen, facilitating a fluid stride. I was mesmerized once again by something he must always be privy to. To see a cock break in and out of you in all of its glistening glory is breathtaking, and not only because of how it was hitting me. It was an adjustment to accommodate all of him, and I didn’t know I could stretch that much while still wanting more. Each time he pulled out and just left the head of his cock in for guidance, I willed him to put it all back where he found it. I soon so wanted to cum but didn’t want it to end until he told me to cum on his cock. Boom! Just like that, I came just from just the words, and guess what? I was so turned on by seeing my climax build up on his cock that I was then stacking orgasms in real time. He kept ramming his cock into my deepest parts like he was trying to plug a leak or put all my cum back in the box, but the flood gates were open, and there was no going back, he was killing me, in the best way possible.
He pulled me up for a final breathy kiss and told me to hang on. As if I could be turned on anymore, the man stands up and with me in both his hands, and proceeds to raise and drop me on his cock like I was riding a curl bar. It hurt so good to be dropped so far. I wanted to help but didn’t know what I could do outside of leveraging his neck to help lift, but he manhandled me perfectly. Picture me now, hanging on like a Monchichi, my feet hanging out the back and not having any fucks to give about the aesthetics of any of it. I was getting dribbled on a cock by some serial killer I just picked up at a bar after he headbutt some guys face off and I thought then that it must be love. He slammed me against the wall, where I leaned back and watched him close out the inning. He was so ripped and sweaty as he tried to put me through the wall, and he might as well have said “I do” too as he came and filled me to the brim before swinging us both around and falling onto the bed and windedly asking me my name. We’ve been a pair of natural-born killers ever since.
Happy Hump Day!!
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