Bad Dates and Consolation Coffee

Author's Note

This is my first erotic story, but I am fairly happy with the end result. That being said, it may be a bit clunky at times so I hope you can look past the hiccups and be kind with any feedback! I already have the outline for 1 or 2 more parts, so I will use whatever I learn to improve the next one. Happy reading!

------------------------------

Warmth, flesh, mouths, and moans.

A pink cloud swirls around me. My mind obscured. I'm aware of lashes of images and sensations, but they come and go before I can tie them all together.

Pleasure. That's the only story I can find.

While the who and where escape me, I know I don't care. Everything I am is at ease. Resistance isn't even a word in my vocabulary right now.

Her face. Her lips. My hands gripping into her softness. Glimpses of curves. A confident passion in the air. A tongue on my neck. I know we are moaning and mewing in tandem, but my ears register nothing in comparison to what my body is feeling.

It climbs and it climbs, reaching for an impossibly high peak. It races towards me, the warmth building. I tense excitedly.

I suck in the air, my eyes snap open, and...

".... fuck."

My eyes are met by a popcorn ceiling and rocking ceiling fan. The fan's cool air and gentle tapping tickling my ears.

I am in my bedroom.

Alone.

Again.

------------------------------

It had been so long since Bobby had been intimate with another, and not for a lack of trying. Thirty years old, handsome, and successful; it's not like there weren't plenty of opportunities out there.

Dates with different women every week. Each one attractive on the surface, but something was always missing. He couldn't say what it was exactly.

The last felt too straight-laced, the previous didn't even seem interested in dating in the first place, and the one before that was just a little too far on the crazy spectrum.

The sexual chemistry was present with each of them, but Bobby had been around the block enough times to recognize a relationship that would survive solely on the sex. There just wasn't enough else about them that was interesting. Inevitably it would lead to an aching heart and a really uncomfortable conversation.

He was tired. Tired of all the trying.

"Why does it always have to feel so complicated? They always want something more from me, something I can't give," he said to himself as he rubbed the sleep from his face.

"Fuck it. It is what it is," he muttered.

He didn't even bother finishing the job that the dream had started. His annoyance from the date last night still sat in his chest.

She had been a sexy little number. Miniskirt, big eyes, see-through leggings, and a hot-to-trot attitude. But even with all her arousing aspects, and his body's excited reaction to her attitude and suggestive words, he could see she wasn't just interested in sex. There was an agenda underneath. She was trying to sell him on a long term relationship with all her seductiveness, and he could tell she wouldn't be worth the trouble.

"My time and happiness, traded for orgasms. Is that really all what I want?" he thought.

It wasn't.

He pulled himself out of bed and prepared for the day. He had slept in late, but decided to take himself to the local coffee shop anyways. He found a great peace in the comings and goings of people, and the sound of the espresso machine and idle conversation seemed to quiet his mind. Plus, it was always a guaranteed means of resetting himself after a rough day prior.

Showered and dressed he walked the three blocks to his favorite cafe. Street attire matching the warm weather perfectly, and a slight sweat made him feel more awake despite his hangover. The bell on the door jingled as he walked into the many-windowed shop. The familiar wood planks creaking pleasantly; welcoming him back after a few days away.

"Well, this isn't so bad. Looks like the world keeps turning after all," his mind whispered automatically.

He grabbed an iced coffee from the smiley barista and found himself an empty table near the window. Idly sipping and finding a small smile reaching his lips.

"The right one will come along eventually. For now I just get to enjoy free living and all the peace it brings."

He allowed himself a glance around the room. Retirees and middle-aged couples strewn about. It wasn't a particularly busy day, but most of the tables and booths had someone occupying them. Most were non-descript-wearing t-shirts and tired blouses-but there was one person in particular that caught Bobby's eye.

With confident posture and shiny black hair, a woman sat in a booth just across the room. A pretty face and lithe body immediately caught Bobby's attention, but her nose ring, undercut, and tattoos told a story about this woman beyond her obvious beauty.

In her hand a pen, and on the table a leather journal. But she wasn't looking at the page in front of her. She was staring right at him.

She tilted her head slightly, and then her wide mouth spread into a dark red smile. She winked with a lightly shadowed eye.

Bobby's heart skipped a beat.

--------------------------------------

I smile back at the creature staring at me with such surprising confidence. My body frozen as I try to process what's happening.

Before I can make much progress, she wordlessly gestures to me. Pointing at herself, then at the empty chair at my table, then playfully shrugging.

I visibly laugh, smile, and wave my arms across the table to inaudibly say, "make yourself at home."

She takes a moment to gather her journal and drink--which I use to swallow and regain myself a bit. "Holy fuck, what is happening?"

She walks across the room to me, making eye contact the whole way. While I try to match her eyeline, I drift a glance at the rest of her. A walk as unapologetic as her style, and a body that shook the imagination. Thin but curvy, tiny visible waist but pronounced hips and chest. There's a flow to her figure that only artists seem to capture. I can even see her nipples poking through her shirt. My god.

Tattoos splatter over the woman's arms. A white graphic tank top, denim skirt, and some white converse being all that I can gather without looking like a creep. Whatever self-assuredness I had regained moments prior was again absent. My mouth was painfully dry and my posture instinctively straightened.

"Not expecting company I gather?" she says with clever eyes and a small smile.

She already knew the answer

Her voice is warm and playful. A big change from the dainty and high pitch I had grown used to with the women I had been dating recently. It came with confidence. It was not shy or apologetic.

I audibly clear my throat, knowing my vocal chords are near ash at this point.

"N-n-no I was actually saving it for you," I say, while barely recalling how to flirt.

"Oh really?" she exclaims with raised eyebrows and another smile.

Then she laughs. The beautiful sound vibrates through me, and reminds me that I am not the worst company.

"So you just expected that I would waltz my way over here at some point?", she jabbed playfully.

My turn to laugh.

"Well, it was more so that I was planning to persuade you of my sparkling conversational abilities. It would have been selfish of me not to offer them while you sat there scribbling," I say wryly.

She laughed again. I was floating.

"Oh yes that would have been suuuch a traaadgedy," she said while covering her heart and emphasizing the words with small bounces. Laughing again, this time at her own riffing.

"And I'll have you know-," she started, as she smoothly dropped herself into the seat across from me. "-those scribblings are the poetry of the next generation."

"Oh you're a poet are you?" I say with more surprise and volume than intended.

I steal a glance at the rest of the room. Two faces turn back to their conversations, apparently only mildly surprised by my interruption.

"And is that so surprising?" she says as she raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms.

I quickly realize my tactless response and try to win back her openness.

"Well no," I laugh awkwardly and rub the back of my head, "I just wasn't expecting that answer and it was a pleasant surprise. I never would have guessed!"

Her eyes relax a bit, but she doesn't let up.

"Oh and why might it be so surprising that a girl like me would have a mind and heart for poetry? Hmm? I don't strike you as the passionate and evocative sort?"

Her expression told me she was teasing, but I still found myself fumbling internally. Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up.

"No! I- Uh-... I just think it's super cool," I chance a brief smile at her.

"It's not every day that you meet someone actively indulging their creative side, especially in public, and especially poetry," I continue.

Her arms unfold as she listens.

"It's quite unique, and I really shouldn't be surprised given how expressive you are in other ways. I love the art nouveau elements by the way," I say as I gesture to her tattooed arms.

"Oh so you're a man of culture!" she says, quickly re-warming to me.

"Well that's a comfort in the modern dating pool," she says.

I try to hide my sigh of relief.

"I thought you might just be another one of those empty-headed pretty boys that gets their style from pinterest but has no real substance to them," she says more seriously.

"Hey, Pinterest is great for inspira-," she's laughing before I can even finish the joke.

She lays her hand on my forearm while the laugh subsides-the touch feels electric. Wiping a tear from her eye, she looks at me more intently. Her hand remains on my arm.

"Oh I like you, funny boy," she says with a devilishness that takes me by surprise.

I find my face warming and forming a smile, maintaining eye contact.

"Well consider us both relieved," I say with more confidence than I've had up to this point.

She squeezes my forearm and wriggles her lips a bit.

"You doing anything important right now?" she asks. A slight suggestiveness to her tone, but there is also hopefulness to the question.

I register both the suggestion and the hopefulness. She's clearly a confident person, but she's not reading me like any other guy that would love to get in her pants.

The silence between her question and my answer is brief, but it hangs long in the air. We can both feel the attraction here, and I feel a little incredulous and how easy this has been. I realize how long I have left her waiting and quickly try to answer cleverly.

"You know I didn't have any plans a couple minutes ago, but something really important just came up," I say with a smile and a wink.

Her devilish smile returns.

"Sofia," she says quickly. Her hand having left my arm and now hovering in the air between us.

Constantly keeping me on my toes, this one. I chuckle softly.

"Bobby," I say, taking her outstretched palm. "Or Rob. I go by both."

"Ooooooh," she coos. "A man of many faces!" she says playfully.

She quickly jumps up from her seat, startling me. Breaking eye contact and quickly strutting to the opposite side of the coffee shop. I have to assume she's not going anywhere with the obvious chemistry mounting, but I still feel an unpleasant coldness as her presence moves away from the table.

When I look to where she's heading, I see that she is talking to the barista at the counter. The worker laughs and makes a knowing face at Sofia, looking at me quickly but then back to the woman. She nods approvingly and playfully pushes Sofia's arm. I am both surprised and flattered, but there's no time to consider what she had said to the woman, because she is walking my way again, eyes beaming, with to-go cups in her hands.

"Settle your affairs, 'Rob.' You and I are stretching our legs in this gorgeous sunshine."

Growing used to her directness--and appreciating the opportunity to work off these nerves--I give her the quick affirmative response I think she would appreciate.

"Yes ma'am."

She was standing above me at the table, having just finished pouring her drink into one of the paper cups when the words left my mouth. She instantly froze.

Slowly turning her face towards mine, locking eyes once again, she bites her lip. A small moan vibrates out. Now it's my turn to go rigid.

Continuing in a slow, delicate fashion, she places the cups down, reaches her hand towards my frozen face, and does what I least expect: She briefly caresses my jaw.

"Good boy," she whispers.

We both stay like this for maybe two real-world seconds, but they tick by for eternity. My mind tries to make sense of what is happening while my body has some very strong opinions of its own. But there is no time to come to any conclusions.

Sofia comes to her senses-apparently remembering where we are-and shakes her head clear. Having returned to the woman of moments prior, she looks at me, nods her head towards the door and says, "Well let's get going slow poke!"

--------------------------------------

We walked around for nearly an hour. Living in such a pleasant part of the city, we pass many unique brick-and-mortar businesses, some hip apartment buildings, and more trees than you would expect in the city.

We spent the whole time talking, and she was an energetic conversation partner! She told me more about her tattoos, I returned the favor, and we both excitedly shared our plans for more. She said she wanted to get an ouroboros tattoo on her upper sternum, and when I asked about the meaning she said, "I am a woman so often completely consumed with myself and my desires. But I relish it, and devour away without even a second thought. I love to be completely wrapped up in me."

When she could sense that I had followup questions, she only offered, "You'll find out soon enough hon," with another wink.

Gulp.

She was surprisingly willing to talk about her poetry too-not a quality I am used to in people of the poetic persuasion. I learned that she mostly writes romance. But not the sappy, head-over-heels stuff, like the emo and alternative lyrical style wherein your love-interest is treated like some ethereal being. She said she writes about human love and affection, and all the idiosyncrasies of wanting freedom but wanting closeness all at the same time.

Her depth and nuance was refreshing. I felt my gears turning as I stayed captured in how smoothly she seemed to turn her inner world into clear words and metaphor.

We found out that we both live near in the area, but she had only moved here in the last month. I told her my favorite spots around the area, and she seemed thankful for the information.

We talked about our other interests, our careers, and some of our future plans. I noticed that she wasn't one to interrupt, unless of course to make a sly joke-and boy did she have a good sense of humor. But she seemed to genuinely want to know more about me. She was asking questions, following up on small details that others would rarely ask about. I felt seen by this woman. And, man, did it feel good.

"I like you Rob," she says in a brief pause in the conversation. "You keep my attention."

She sets her hand on my upper arm and gives it a gentle squeeze like before.

"But I think my legs have had enough of this walk, and I'm thirsty. How far is your place from here?"

Surprised again by the forwardness and implication of the question-but not willing to hem and haw over the opportunity to spend more time with this woman-I quickly look around to get my bearings.

"Well, Sofia, don't read into this, but I live about 200 feet that way," I say as I point across the street towards the other side of some houses.

"Oh is that so?" she says. Narrowing her eyes. "Sounds like someone was trying to take me home with them."

I blush and quickly shake my head, raising my hand to say 'wait you don't understand.' But, she's already laughing.

"God you're so easy to mess with. It's okay Bobby-boy. I like a man who's putty in my hands."

She allows her eyes to look me up and down, and gently chews her lip for a moment.

"And anyways, who's to say I wouldn't mind being seduced by you?"

Cheese and rice, is this woman serious??

Again, before I can even say anything, she's started again.

"Come on hun, show me to this shack of yours. Mommy's thirsty, and I'm pretty sure you can quench her," she says suggestively while already walking away.

--------------------------------------

"And here we are," I say as we cross the threshold. "It ain't much, but it's home."

Opting for the old New York apartment style, I didn't mind that it was a smaller place. Brick walls, wooden floors. High ceiling with visible rafters. I was especially proud of the large windows and the many vined plants I owned.

She said nothing as she walked around the space. Dragging her fingers along the brick, gently pinching a leaf in her fingers, looking momentarily the art on the walls. She took her time, never saying a word or giving any hints of what she was thinking. Finally, she made her way back to where I stood. Still just inside the entry door.

"I love it!" she finally said. "A man with good taste is so hard to find."

She moved closer than I was expecting.

"And here I was worried that your good taste stopped and started with women."

I began to say something, but once again she stopped me. This time with a finger placed upon my lips and a quiet hush from her own.

"Shhhhh. We've done enough talking mister. I told you I was thirsty, and I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Oh.. errr... of course! Let me grab you a glass of water," I quickly say. But as I attempt to walk towards the kitchen, I find her hand on my wrist, gently holding me in place.

"I never said I needed water, silly goose," she coos.

She closes the gap between us and looks up at me with the same piercing eyes from before. The fact that they were blue finally registering in my mind. The close proximity seemed to ratchet up my senses, because I immediately became hyper-conscious of the breathtaking woman in my personal space.

About a head shorter than me and only lightly tanned. Her skin looked so supple up close. There didn't seem to be an ounce of fat on her. I drank in her sweet scent, which made the moment even more intoxicating. Oh fuck.

She placed a hand on my chest and looked up at me expectantly.

"Well, lover boy?" she asks.

The damn breaks and my wild attraction pours out of me. I rush to smash my lips against her own. But, rather than being met with surprise, I receive the same enthusiasm in return.

Lips and tongues. Kissing and sucking. Her hands hold my head, and my own grips her tiny waist. I can feel her gentle abdominal muscles under my hands, and my legs begin to get shaky. Now this is a woman. My fingers briefly dancing up under the fabric of her tank top as our mouths continue to play up above.

I am so hungry for her, yet it somehow feels like I'm the one being devoured. I suck on her bottom lip, and she probes my mouth with her tongue. I put my own tongue into her mouth and she wraps her hand around my jaw and sucks deeply on the appendage. She turns my head to the side and kisses towards my ear, pulling the lobe into her mouth. The wet ASMR and warmth are maddeningly pleasant. She moans in the process and I can feel every note.

She pulls gently off my ear and kisses down my neck. One hand now grabbing my hair, the other moving across and around my chest. Unused to the attention and forcefulness she's giving, but absolutely melting under her touch, I allow myself to just feel everything this unbelievably sexy woman is doing to me. I am in heaven, I think. She licks her way back up my neck, along my jaw, and brings her lips right back to my mouth.

The kiss is more sensual and patient than before. She lingers there, soft juicy lips oh-so-perfectly wrapped with my own. Then, she pulls away.

She looks at me with my certainly dazed expression, and bites her lip again.

"Oh my god we are going to have soooo much fun," she squeals as she hops up and down.

"You have me sooo worked up lover boy. I think you need to help me out with that. Now," her tone getting more serious as she spoke.

"Oh- well certainly," I swallow and I remember how to speak.

"D-d-did you have something in mind?" I say, realizing that we had been following her plans, not mine, this whole time.

Her eyes sparkle as her mouth forms into a mischievous smile.

"I am so glad you asked," she says with an air of victory, while patting my chest with one of her hands. She leans in close, her lips brushing my ear once again, sending shivers down my spine.

"You, mister, are going to worship me," she whispers.

My eyes roll back into my head and my mouth falls open at the implication. This girl wants to use me for her pleasure, and she has the confidence to know I'm going to love every minute of it. It's a special type of woman that is so confident with her sexuality. And this one just falls into my lap? I've gotta start going back to church, because this feels miraculous.

She pats me on the chest once more, and turns her back towards me. Walking towards the leather couch I have centered in the room, she turns and beckons me with a finger. I swallow, and I could swear that I audibly gulp.

I compose myself enough to follow her towards the couch, legs still unsturdy. Thankfully I don't trip over myself as my mouth begins to water again. My mind is racing at the prospect of being on my knees and bringing this woman to orgasm, and I am sure my eyes are glazed over because I am snapped back to reality by a pair of fingers in front of me.

*snap snap*

"Yoohoooo. Where'd ya go? It's not polite to keep a lady waiting." She says while making a pouty expression with her face.

"Sorry," I quickly laugh. "I just feel like I am living in a dream right now." I say.

She smiles at this, her hands moving to flatten the shirt fabric on my chest.

"Well isn't that sweet," she says.

"But I need you to wake up honey, because I am a very needy girl, and I am going to require your full, unwavering attention." She says seductively.

"Oh uhh... yes ma'am," I croak.

"Mmmmmm, good," she says approvingly.

She then plops herself down in the middle of the couch and spreads her legs in front of me. Her feet still wrapped in her sneakers.

"Well, on your knees lover boy. Time for work," she says with finality.

I instinctively drop down onto the carpet, my hands landing on her uncovered legs. Just as soft as her belly.

I take a moment moving my hands along her skin, looking up and down at the unbelievable woman in front of me. Oh fuck I need her. I plant three kisses on the exposed skin, moving up from her knee to just below her skirt.

I pause to look up at her and I notice an impatience-or is it pleading?-in her eyes. I realize that when she said "need" earlier, she was being serious. She's desperate! I quickly reach towards her denim skirt.

I see that she had rotated the skirt at some point, so that the zipper was now in the front. Perfectly accessible to me. Clever girl. I swallow again and reach for the pull tab. Glancing up at her and seeing that she is chewing on her lip with lights in her eyes.

I look back down and start to pull. The pleasant sound of undressing is music in the quiet apartment. And, like the sunrise, the most beautiful sight begins to reveal itself to me.

First, the rest of her beautiful belly comes into view. I can see the soft shape of muscle to fit her lithe physique, and I am enamored. But I keep pulling.

Then the white hem of her panties is revealed. Simple, soft fabric. Mildly translucent against her skin. Fuck. White. Of course they're white. Why is that so fucking hot? I nearly pause, but I keep pulling.

I know I've seen dozens of vaginas before, and even more in porn, but every time I see a new one up close, it feels like it's the first time. The soft folds showing themselves through the fabric. A small wet spot on the fabric. Precious. Beautiful. Takes the breath away.

I gulp as the face of her panties come into view, hinting at what's to come.

That sweet,

juicy,

compact...

little...

...

pussy?

While I expected the panties to end by wrapping around the precious folds of flesh that I my mind knows so well, something very different is happening before my eyes.

The panties continue further than expected, raising up and around something. Very uncharacteristic of a vagina, or at least no vagina that I have ever seen. And the fabric keeps coming. And coming. And coming. I reach the end of the zipper and the two halves of the skirt fall idly to the sides. The sight I am left with has rendered me wide-eyed and out of my element.

"I told you I'm needy," she laughs.

I barely register her comment as I stare at the sight in front of me.

The white fabric stretches absurdly around what looks like a softball stuffed in her panties.

I reach forward towards the shape to ensure I am not dreaming, and my hand lands on something hot and gently pulsating. Holy fucking shit. Sofia makes a sigh of relief.

I start to look back and forth from Sofia to her bulge, almost as if to try and confirm what I am thinking is true.

"Mhmm. That's right," her eyes closed.

"You know what's in those panties baby. Go ahead. Get a closer look," she says devilishly.

I begin to squeeze and mold the flesh with my hand. Processing with my eyes and hands. My imagination runs wild trying to imagine what I am feeling, but it fails to satisfy any curiosity. Sofia moans warmly above me

Fuck it, I think. There's only one way to know.

My fingers somehow find the edge of the fabric, partly wrapped around the flesh mound, and I start to peel it back over the hot shape underneath.

A thick tube of flesh oh god is it thick starts to appear. Peeling back the fabric, more and more of the hot mass begins to appear. I realize that it actually wraps underneath itself. How big is this thing?? A moment later, the hot tube pops out of its cotton prison, soaring momentarily upward before slapping heavily onto the couch between Sofia's legs.

Oh. My. God. I think.

Long. Thick. Sitting almost completely flat on the couch due to its own weight. What sits in front of me is one of the biggest, prettiest, and most powerful cocks I've ever seen. It's soft (It's soft???), or at least partly so, but its size is no less intimidating for it. Nearly perfectly uniform in girth, from base to tip, and beautifully circumcised. Thick veins wrap around under the skin, with smaller ones spiderwebbing with color beneath its near-white surface. It's pale (oh god is it pale) except for a beautiful pink and purply head. Against the tan of Sofia's legs, and the brown leather of the couch, the cock seems to glow-drawing me in. Not a single hair to be seen.

"Six inches," I hear Sofia's voice say.

I shake my head. That can't be right. That's how long I am.

"... what?"

She laughs.

"I'm six inches after a cold shower, around 11 when fully hard." She shrugs when she says it.

I swallow. Holy fuck that's big.

"Yes yes, I know, I know. I am a grower more than a shower," she says with some slight annoyance.

"But you, lover boy, seem to be enjoying the show just fine," she smirks. "And I think it's time for some fireworks." She shakes her hips slightly, causing the massive cock to wobble back and forth.

I reach for the python in front of me and lift it off the couch. Soft (oh my god it's sooo soft) and hot to the touch. With all its size and weight, it is still flexible and supple, yielding to my fingers. They nearly touch around the beast, but not quite. I'm sure that will change as she gets hard, I think.

I move both my hands to the base, trying to create more visual real-estate, and the mass droops under its own heaviness. Fuck is it heavy. Drooping like a fleshy rainbow, the fat tip now stares directly at me. I take a glance below, finally noticing her two swollen, hairless balls. Larger than eggs, they compliment the massive shaft perfectly. But unlike the shaft, they glow with a red warmth.

"Come on babyyyy. Mommy needs to cummm," Sofia moans.

She straightens up on her elbows and takes on a serious look.

"I know this is your first time seeing mommy's big fat cock, but you're going to have plenty of time to get familiar. Right now, I need you to stop gawking," she says seriously.

".... please," she says more gently.

I shake myself again and move my hands upwards along the shaft. From base to tip they slide, and I somehow force myself not to slow in the process to marvel at the fleshy snake and how it feels squeezing it upward beneath my grip.

As my hands approach the tip, a small stream of clear cum begins to pour out. More coming as I milk the giant, fleshy phallus. It dribbles off the tip onto my knuckles. I am awestruck. The quantity of one of my own loads and this is precum???

My hand reaches the tip and the precum makes a small pool between my hand and her head. I gulp and begin to move my hands back down her shaft, coating part of her length with the natural lubricant. Up again I go, another load-sized dribbling of precum pours from her tip like a small river. I have to swallow all the saliva collecting in my mouth before I start drooling.

Sofia is alternating between guttural groans and moans of pleasure at this point. When I look up at her, her eyes remain locked on me and what I am doing. She is nodding slowly and encouragingly.

"Good boy. Now make mommy cum," she whispers.

Her length almost completely coated with her own precum at this point, my hands are gliding along the flesh. Even as her cock grows further, the flesh remains malleable and the surface, just more firm and sturdy underneath. It stays that way even when she appears to have reached her peak. When I get hard, I am hard all the way through. Sturdy, stiff. But with Sofia's cock, it's such a massive heavy thing, but it feels so playful and free. It flexes under my grip and tip bends down a little when my hands are at the base. It really exaggerates a feeling of literally milking her cock, especially with all the precum coming out. Maybe it's because there's so much of it? Volume? Bloodflow?... Why the fuck am I thinking about this right now?! All I know is that it feels amazing to stroke this giant, virile, yet floppy monster.

The flow of precum hadn't faltered while I was lost in thought. More arrives with my every stroke. At this point Sofia's cock is completely coated. My hands, which are also dripping with the stuff, move effortlessly over her slick python. It had even started running over her balls in streaks, making small dribbles on the couch beneath her. This might be the hottest thing I've ever seen.

The whole process really hadn't lasted long. It was really only a minute or two before the sounds Sofia was making started to clue me into a larger event to come.

She really must need this. That was so fucking fast!

"That's it baby, make me cum. Make mommy cum like the good boy you are," she moans.

Realizing what was coming, I started stroking with greater eagerness. Twisting my hands in opposite directions, stopping briefly on the head and twisting around it once or twice, then moving my hands all the way back down to the base.

"Yeah stroke that massive cock baby. You fucking love it I can tell. You loooooove mommy's cock don't you?" she managed to say through the rapid moans..

Her moans come faster and faster. I speed my tempo to match the sounds.

The flow of precum had been increasing as her orgasm approached. Turning into a near constant stream, thickening more and more with each stroke. But right when Sofia's moans reach an apparent climax, the stream completely halts and her voice catches. A palpable moment of anticipation. The calm before the storm.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuck babyyyyyyyy," Sofia groans gutterally.

Just as a water fountain comes back to life, a thick stream of creamy cum begins to pour out of the tip. Starting as a thick dribble and gaining speed and altitude as it continues. Her cock flexing as the liquid spills out. The first of her load lands all over my hands and her still-cumming cock. Hot. Sweet-smelling. But the stream continues long after I expect, angling upwards and back-a white rope in the air-splattering down onto her stomach and tanktop. Fuck that's so much. Sofia's hips push her upwards as her cock flexes to peak hardness. The last of thestream shooting out even higher and further than the rest. Most of it going over her head and behind the couch, but a couple droplets land on her face. Her moaning does not stop.

Then she shot again, and again, and again.

None of them were as dramatic as the first, but each was larger than one of my entire loads. and the power outdid mine even on my best day. My mouth hung open at the sight. Her hips pushing her flexing cock through my grip, fucking my hands. The cum flying upward and then landing back on my hands and her shaft. Her tanktop got a healthy helping too. I counted 6 or 7 shots after the initial first, each gradually losing height as her orgasm finished. The final two were quickly picked up by my hands as I continued stroking, coating her further with her own goo. White stripes of the liquid swirling around and down her length, spiderwebbing and clinging between my fingers, stringing between hands, balls, and tip. An obscene sight. I stare wide-eyed, the image telling of virility and sexual power that I could have never imagined. Especially not with my own cock.

As I slow my strokes, predicting Sofia to soon be sensitive, I lood past the absurd sight of the massive cum-covered cock to the mess the woman had made. The cum splatters give a wet t-shirt effect to her tank top, allowing me to nearly see her nipples through the fabric. Fuck they look perfect. And along her stomach, cum pools and drips down her sides. The amount of cum in the scene still blowing my mind.

By now, Sofia had begun to collect herself. She looks down at me smiling through half-closed eyelids as I sit still slowly stroking her shaft, which had returned to its pre-orgasm, soft but solid floppyness. If I'm supposed to stop, I don't know when. I've gotten such a high from touching this woman's giant member that I didn't want to stop if I didn't have to. Her orgasm was an amazing sight to see, but I did feel disappointment after it dissipated. I knew we would have to stop at some point.

Her eyes finally fluttered the rest of the way open, her lips formingto make a whistle.

*whistles*

"Oh lover boy now that was a muuuuch needed relief. You did such a good job stroking mommy," she said warmly.

Sighing in satisfaction, she gave me a look of gratefulness.

I smile back at her and finally let my hands come to rest at the base of her member. I begin to do mental math for the amount of towels I'll need to grab.

"Uhhh what are you doing?" Sofia says as her eyebrows furrow.

Surprised, I gesture towards the mess of cum with my head, leaving my hands gently attached to the base of her shaft.

"I... I figured we'd probably want to get you cleaned up right?" I said with some confusion.

Does she just want to sit in the mess? I wonder. Some sort of kink?

"Oh honey don't be silly. We're just getting started! See that giant fucking popsicle in your paws?"

My heart starts to race again as I feel the flesh flex underneath my grip.

"She ain't going down until she melts in your mouth! And who knows how many times that will take?" she says with feigned ignorance and playful shrug of her shoulders.

My heart is pounding as I realize what she's saying. After all that cum, this girl is ready to go again already?? It's like she never needed to stop! How many times can she orgasm like this?? My head begins to swim.

Sofia laughs as my thought process registers on my face.

"Yes honey you are going to get your thirst quenched and more! You have lots of work to do though, so you need to stay hydrated. Here, this should be refreshing. Have a taste.," she says with a grin as she runs 2 fingers through a pool of cum on her belly. She holds them face up in front of me to prevent dripping, but thick droplets still run down and off her fingers.

I look her in the eyes, sensing-like every moment up to this point-that this wasn't exactly a question. She knows how much I've been enjoying myself, and that I don't really want the party to end yet.... She is telling me, with no selfishness, that this is the way forward. If I really want to relish all the experiences that can happen with this woman, this is what I have do.

I look into her eyes. Then to her cum covered fingers. Then back into her eyes again. She just stares at me with a knowing smile, patiently waiting for me to come to terms with what's going to happen next. I feel her cock flex beneath my hands again, and I glance down to see the white rivers still slowly dripping along her length and over my fingers.

I let out an exhale and brace myself. Not knowing what is about to enter my mouth, but willing to do just about anything to make sure the experience with this woman continues. She's so lovely, funny, and easy to get along with. Sexy as can be, and confident in a way that just sets the heart at ease. She also has a giant magical cock, that feels like heaven to stroke and seems to infinitely produce cum.

She's here because she wants to be here. She wants me. She chose this experience for herself and I truly doubt that either of us is having more fun than the other. It would be hilariously stupid to throw this all away! Her giant member flexes a third time under my grip. And fuck do I want to make her cum again.

I reach out with my mouth, and she turns her fingers downward to put the creamy elixir directly onto my tongue. My lips envelop her digits, giving them a gentle suck and lick. A powerful sweetness hits my palate, and my eyes close instinctively to savor the flavor. A warmth growing inside of me alongside a heavy craving for more.

I open my eyes to look at Sofia, but she is already biting her lip while nodding encouragingly.

"That's right baby," she says sweetly. "Now go on and earn the rest of your treat," she says flirtatiously, before giving me a wink.