My Boyfriend Who Could Not Fuck

I was 27 in the summer of 1976, and I'd just dumped Terry who was my 19-year-old lover and boyfriend. I had met him in the summer of 1975. I had just graduated college, and Terry had just graduated high school! We started dating, making out, and I started giving him blowjobs, but he wanted to fuck me. Doing an 18-year-old was just too weird but I gave in on his 19th birthday and fucked him. God, the sex was so good. Stamina, big cock and he could pump on me forever and bring me orgasms just from the fucking.

He wanted to marry me, and that is when I knew I was getting in too deep. I ended the relationship. The breakup was turbulent as hell. The yelling, slammed doors, the whole ugly scene. But I was newly "available" and very horny!

After a week or so after the breakup, I went on the prowl for another man and a cock to fuck me. Word must have gotten around that Terry, and I were no longer a couple because all of Terry's buddies started hitting on me! I was not interested in any of them but one evening, one of Terry's friends, Kenneth, who was also 19, came up to me and we started talking. I could tell from what he said that Terry must have told them I give great blowjobs and was a great fuck. I remember thinking that is one hell of a reputation for me to have in a small town.

Kenneth seemed to show up wherever I was. He would buy me drinks without asking and we would talk and dance. He was good-looking and he could dance better than almost anyone I'd ever seen. I loved to dance to country western music and that did it for me. I was going to fuck him that night. We left the bar and went back to my apartment. I had not had sex in almost two months after breaking up with my boyfriend, and I needed cock.

After the kissing and making out, the clothes came off in a messy rush. I saw his cock. It was almost eight inches. He was very thick.

He reached for a condom from his jeans, but I told him no, I am on the pill. He smiled. He got between my legs, the head of that big cock touching my soaked pussy, ready to push in, and he blew his load! Hot thick ropes of cum all over my cunt and my bush. He looked as shocked as I felt, breathing hard, still twitching against me.

A few minutes later he was hard again, that thick cock standing right back up, shiny with his own cum. Same thing the second time, another spurt on my pussy before he could get inside.

By the third try, he finally lasted long enough. The second he pushed his cock into me, stretching me open slow and deep, I came hard. Every single time he managed to get in, that stretch and depth made me cum right away. Sharp, overwhelming, my body locking up around that thick cock like it had been starving for it. The waiting was a real drag, left me aching and dripping and half-crazy, but once he was finally inside, his size made me cum without fail every time. Feeling that heavy cock - hard and buried deep while I came around it was addictive as hell.

That became the pattern.

Hot buildup that left me shaking, the inevitable early climax all over my skin and a short recovery while I stroked him back to full hardness. Feeling him finally stay hard and in me, stretching me open, making me cum every time, made up for a lot.

I kept seeing him anyway. The sex and the dancing were that good. It beat masturbating in my apartment alone. Once he got past the first couple rounds, the sex was worth it. Having something that size finally stay hard and deep, making me cum so hard I saw stars, made up for the frustration. He was sweet in his own way, eager, almost respectful once he finally got to stay inside and feel me shatter around him. The age difference didn't bother me as much as I thought it would.

Then came that Friday night in the middle of summer. Around seven, still light out, people already on the sidewalks and porches in the apartment complex in which I lived. I made dinner. We started drinking around 5:30, and by the time we hit the bed we were both pretty wasted. I was wound tight, the kind of horny that mad want his cock in me.

Same thing. He orgasmed too soon again, thick cum spilling uselessly across me. I was frustrated beyond reason. I started screaming at him to get out of my apartment. He tugged on his clothes, muttered something, and stormed out. I heard his feet pounding down the stairs and something in me snapped.

I grabbed my housecoat, walked out onto the patio, completely nude underneath, the smell of sex still on me, and I yelled after him at the top of my lungs: "Get out of here... you can't fuck worth a shit!" My apartment faced the swimming pool, and it was full of people. Heads turned. Conversations stopped. He didn't look back. Just kept walking, shoulders tight, disappearing around the corner while those at the pool got an earful of exactly why he'd been thrown out. I remained there another couple of minutes in the warm air, heart beating, my cunt aching and empty, then went back inside and shut the door. I remember thinking -- oh well, another guy will come along.