Chapter Nine

“Daddy? Daddy!”

Kira’s worried voice pulled him back. She cupped his face, inspecting him with concern. He blinked up at her, goofy grin spreading.

“Hiii~ pretty lady,” he slurred, nuzzling into her protective embrace. Her massive bosom was the world’s best pillow. “This another dream? Don’t wake me if it is.”

Her expression melted into pure tenderness, doe eyes crinkling. She stroked his cheek fondly.

“Oh, you adorable young fool,” she murmured. “Heaven lost an angel the day you landed on my doorstep.”

“Gah! What a fuckin’ super-stud,” Gina croaked hoarsely from below, voice wrecked but triumphant. “Stiffer than rebar—even after puttin’ Ol’ Faithful to shame. I’m stuffed fuller than a tick on a dog. Hold him steady, girlfriend. Ain’t no way I’m not ridin’ this bronco.”

Lance’s vision swam back into focus when a short stack of bubbly curves topped in flaming hair rose between his wobbly knees.

Gina shucked off her paltry Daisy Dukes, then discarded her tube top with practiced swiftness. Rubbery pink nipples capped her big, braless boobs, while a shoestring thong flossed her bald pussy lips.

Pussy lips which already glistened. Slick honey glazed her thick thighs in a wet sheen.

“Holy shit.” He remarked glibly, taking in her extraordinary hourglass with reverent awe.

The uber-voluptuous nymphett was glorious to behold in her natural state. A mini masterpiece of toned flesh, blemishless skin, with extra padding in all the right places. Her ink only heightened her exotic allure, crawling down her arms in a riot of bright blossoms.

“Pleased as punch to see you lookin’ at me in that way, hot stuff.” Gina crooned, using Lance’s unflagging manpole like a handlebar to hoist herself into his lap. “Quick question: how do you prefer your cowgirl?”

“My cowgirl?” He queried, thoughts still disordered.

Silky arms slid over his shoulders, wrapping him in a welcome embrace as hot breath feathered his ear.

“She means the sexual position.” Kira whispered, working to unbutton his shirt. “Forward or reverse?”

Huh?

Ohhhhhhh!

“OMG—the look on his face!” Gina cackled, lifting just enough to yank his trousers down. They puddled around his ankles. “He really is precious, girlfriend. No need to answer, birthday boy. I’ve got your number. Reckon you’re one of them true connoisseurs I mentioned earlier.”

Not waiting for confirmation, the Southern minx gripped his ebullient base in both hands, lifted one leg high in a showgirl split, and spun in a fluid, performative twirl.

She landed facing away from him—his sterling stiffness somehow nestled against her beefy buttocks as if by magic.

Lance was stunned by the sudden acrobatics. Gina glanced back, wicked grin flashing as she began to grind, gyrating against his throbbing length, and swivelling her cushiony keister with sinful intent.

It spanned the expanse of her pillowy crack, his spouting cockhead painting the middle of her arching spine a pearly shade of white.

“Oh fuck.” He huffed, reeling as the bottom-heavy hottie hotdogged his hoagie.

“That’s the idea, sugar.” Gina purred, clapping her supersized cheeks around Lance’s stony length. “Gotta admit, though. This donkey dick–”

“Giga-cock.” Kira blurted, the correction slipping out before she could stop it.

Both heads spun toward her. Gina paused; Lance blinked through the haze. Her tiny t-shirt had magically vanished, leaving her big breasts on display.

It appeared that she, too, disdained bras; her puckered peaks pointed directly at him.

Then Gina hooted with delight.

“Huh, that’s a good one!” She resumed her grinding. “As I was sayin’, this giga-cock might be a handful—even for a girl like me. But Papa always told me you miss every shot you don’t take.”

Lance had heard similar platitudes in his sporting career, but lacked a witty rejoinder at the time.

His brain was busy short-circuiting as Gina half-stood, hooked a finger through her shoestring thong, and tugged it aside to dredge him through her drenched folds. Slow, teasing strokes slathered his towering tumescence in her dripping heat.

Balls grumbling, fists bunching, Lance fought for breath as Gina sank onto him.

At first, he encountered resistance, her insides parting reluctantly despite liberal lubrication. Then, abruptly, she crammed six gut-wrenching inches into herself with a guttural groan.

“G-Gawd, yessss!” Spluttered the bodacious redhead. “You’re stretching me out… So g-goddamn full.”

Lance watched in abject fascination as she wriggled her way down his tremendous turgidity, almost overwhelmed by conflicting desires.

He had come here to talk, bend a sympathetic ear. Yet there he sat, getting fucked by another full-figured fox. Was this his life now?

Did he really care?

His so-called giga-cock certainly didn’t.

Especially when she passed the halfway mark, a distinct shape distended her taut tummy, impossibly long and thick, moving inexorably towards her diaphragm.

Lance could only groan—hands grabbing her firm thighs—as Gina picked that exact moment to clench hard around him, ducking her hips in a punishing push that forced further sensitive centimeters into her vise-like cunny.

“Don’t ignore me, daddy.” Kira mewled plaintively, nipping his ear. “Aren’t I your good girl? We could even explore some butt play if–”

“Forget that noise.” Gina growled, leaning back to rest her head on Lance’s shoulder. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.” She demanded, glaring up at him. “Focus on the pussy in front of you, not tomorrow's anal.”

That said, the gravid goddess grit her teeth, then drove herself down to his base in a final, determined thrust.

“Faaa-aa-aa-aark!” Lance gasped when her A-grade rump slapped his legs. “Christ–how?”

“I’ve broken toys almost as big as you, hot stuff.” Gina exuded smug satisfaction, hands pressed to the bump in her belly. “Shit, I think you’re knockin’ on my womb. Wanna go halves on a baby?”

Lance panicked instantly. “Hell no!”

“Gina!” Kira admonished, hugging him tighter. “Don’t tease him like that. She’s only fooling, Daddy. We’ve both got contraceptive implants—no pregnancy scares here.”

“Awww, you two are no fun,” Gina chuffed, starting to churn her hips in slow, filthy figure-eights. “Gimme a sec to adjust to this monster. Gawd, it’s stirrin’ my insides somethin’ fierce.”

Her back pressed flush to his carved torso, her head barely reaching his chin. With Kira leaning in from the other side—arms wrapped around him, breasts pillowed against his back—Lance was trapped between two dream girls.

“Mmmm~… that’s better,” Gina purred, her butt wiggling, growing more confident. “I really like your beau’s giga-cock, girlfriend. You won’t mind me borrowin’ it from time to time, yeah?”

Jealousy rolled off Kira in waves. Instead of rising to the bait, his chocolate-skinned Barbie palmed his chin, guiding his face to meet hers in a furious, possessive kiss.

Soft lips claimed Lance’s as she planted her flag, then her tongue returned with vengeance, stealing his breath. She tasted sweet, like cherry chapstick and iced tea.

Her hands roamed everywhere Gina wasn’t—groping his hard biceps, raking through his hair, clutching his shoulders—as if marking every inch she could reach.

Gina, for her part, was positively writhing upon Lance’s engorged immensity.

Her lewd lap dance gathered momentum until the curvaceous cutie was pogoing up and down in earnest—fleshy cheeks clapping with every downward slam, wet slaps resounding as she rode him roughshod.

“Ahhh! That’s right, sugar,” Gina hissed, moaning whenever she bottomed out. “Lose yourself in this hot fuckin’ pussy. Let me spoil you. Hmmff~! Let me ruin you.”

Lance could only hang on, floundering between her relentless bouncing and Kira’s lingual assault. Neurons fried, muscles on fire, balls boiling, the uber-hung athlete flailed–grasping at straws during the most insanely charged situation of his young life.

Then a memory flashed across Lance’s hormone-pickled brain–a recent one.

Coach Velasquez cornering him in the shower. Naked and defenseless.

Feelings of vulnerability and powerlessness returned in an overwhelming rush. Lance never wanted to feel that way again.

Resolve surged through him—fortifying his heart and straightening his spine.

Lurching to his feet, Lance broke from Kira’s clutches, tripped on his pants, then crashed to the carpet. Gina landed facedown beneath him–busty, breathtaking, and skewered to the hilt on his preposterous prick.

“AAYYYIIIEEE!!”

She shrieked ecstatically, spurting feminine juices around his shaft as the fall drove him balls deep. Lance almost echoed the cry, but it came out as a strangled, guttural groan.

Crotch smacking her globular glutes, jiggling those hefty hemispheres of firm ass flesh with each frenzied thrust, Lance focused his entire being on nailing the southern sexbomb to the floor.

Something snapped in his beleaguered psyche, frayed wires crossed, and suddenly it wasn’t Gina trapped under him anymore but a certain Hispanic trainer.

“Invade my privacy, will you?” He snarled, rage-fucking her authoritative cunt. “Endanger my fucking future, will you?!”

“Yes, yes… Gah! Fuck yes!” Coach Velasquez squealed, shoulders bunching as she fought to lift her head. “W-whatever you say... Ohhh~! Just keep fucking me!”

His hands moved on instinct. One clamped the back of her neck, shoving her face into the carpet and receiving a whorish moan in response. He jackhammered violently into her, harsh and punishing, his cock burning like a branding iron.

“You’re not in charge right now, I am!” Lance spat, pounding her perfect peach mercilessly. “How do you like that?”

“Gawd, I-I love it!” Another spray of womanly nectar soaked the carpet as Velasquez’s snatch convulsed around him. “Pull my hair… Hyaa! Choke me–Pleeease~!”

Pinning her by the throat, he spanked the Latina’s thick flank, plowing recklessly into her squirting slickness. The sharp sting elicited a startled yelp, then a groan, as she bucked wildly beneath him.

Pure hedonistic fire roared through Lance’s veins, granting him stamina he didn’t know he possessed. He felt unstoppable.

“That’s right—take it, you lecherous slut!” he barked, spanking her again. “Take my cock and beg for forgiveness!”

He was in control.

He was steering his own destiny.

He captained this ship and would be damned before letting some washed-up sporting has-been scupper it.

Gina’s replies dissolved into garbled, ecstatic squeaks and wanton moans—anything but repentant.

It wasn’t precisely what he wanted, but Lance hardly cared.

Riding the knife-edge of rapturous release, he slapped and slammed into the bitch’s bootylicious backside, plundering her clingy cunt like a pirate on crack.

Then a warm, soft weight settled against his back.

The soothing scent of coconut oil and sweet perfume cut through the haze. Slender arms wrapped around his torso from behind, and a familiar voice—a voice he’d heard in his dreams—murmured directly into his ear.

“I can’t believe what a fucking stud you are, Daddy. You look insanely hot, giving her the business.” Kira crooned, low and molten. Her heavy tits pancaked against his shoulder blades. Her fingers stroked his ripped abs. “I’m sooo~ wet for you right now, Daddy. I need to see you cum. Whatever’s bothering you, take it out on Gina.”

Lance gasped.

Gina!

The fantasy shattered. Reality rushed back in: it wasn’t Coach Velasquez beneath him anymore. It was Gina—wailing into the carpet as he fucked her through yet another floor-drenching climax.

Balls on a countdown, Lance was stuck like the meat in the world’s most obscene sandwich.

Kira hadn’t lied about her arousal.

She was draped luxuriously over him, leopard print leggings gone, grinding her bare pussy against his tailbone. Girl-cum smeared his feverish skin as her not-insubstantial weight forced him harder into the shuddering redhead on every downthrust.

Then Gina rediscovered her ability to speak, if haltingly, peppered liberally with indecent noises.

“I-I can’t… Hmmmph! Too much–gawd! Ohhh~! Never b-been fucked like… Gah! Like this b-before…”

Apparently, Kira was feeling chatty too, purring pure filth into Lance’s ear.

“Give it to her, Daddy. Wreck her on your giga-cock. I’m nearly there. Need to watch you pack her full. Need to cum with you… pleeease!”

Smooshed between two drop-dead gorgeous beauties, smothered in their lavish lushness, hearing their desperate voices begging him, Lance was done.

It was the last straw. His goose was well and truly cooked.

With a ragged cry, he plunged to the base inside Gina’s spasming snatch, then exploded.

“HAAAAAARRG!!”

For the second time that day, Lance was cumming his brains out. Sticky spunk jetted from his corpulent cock like a busted hydrant, flooding her overstuffed insides.

Spine arching backward, Gina howled, quaking through a final, monumental orgasm. The cry was one of ear-splitting, inarticulate rapture before her tongue lolled from slack lips, greenback-coloured eyes rolling, and she collapsed bonelessly to the carpet beneath him.

She wasn’t alone in her ecstatic release either.

“Yes, Daddy–yesssssssss~!” Kira squealed, baptizing Lance’s clenched butt in girl-honey.

Her generous figure trembled atop him, arms tightening around his waist as she rode out her climax, damn near pinching him in two.

Goddamn, she was strong!

Lance endured, somehow. He shook through the bone-tingling aftershocks, stuck between two jaw-dropping junos, his seed-spluttering shaft stuck in one while the other squeezed the breath out of him.

Eventually, his lungs' demand for oxygen pierced the pleasant post-coital fog.

“Baby. Please.” Lance wheezed, tapping out. “Need… Air.”

He felt Kira stir, snapping out of her own afterglow. “Oops! Sorry, Daddy.”

She instantly relaxed her constrictor-like embrace, shyly hiding her flushed face in the crook of his neck. Respiration restored, Lance took a well-earned moment to assess his circumstances.

Things had spiralled out of control… again.

He’d come over for a serious conversation–to vent his woes–and somehow it devolved into delirious debauchery.

What was it about these bumtastic belles?

“Are you okay, Daddy?’ Kira slid off Lance’s back, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder as he reluctantly withdrew from Gina.

The insensate redhead lay motionless, only groaning and twitching slightly when he plopped out of her gaping pussy in a rush of their mingled fluids.

“Is… Is she going to be alright?” He asked, genuinely concerned. “I didn’t hurt her, did I?”

Kira threw herself at Lance, gathering him into another buxom embrace, showering his face with fond kisses.

“Oh, you silly, wonderful man.” She giggled, clutching him close. “You rang her bell like Notre Dame. She’ll be fine—trust me. If anything, you might need a barge pole to keep her off you after this.”

“A what?” He asked, still discombobulated.

Kira helped him to his feet, took his semi-phallic length in hand, and gently tugged him back toward the sofa. She pushed Lance down into the cushions and nestled her plush ass on his thigh, snuggling against him.

“A figure of speech, Daddy.” She purred, brushing her lips teasingly across his. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, keeping him pleasantly distracted. “Don’t worry about Gina. She’s in la-la land right now. But tell me more about this situation with your coach…”

Kira’s voice dropped into a sultry whisper as she leaned in closer, her bare breasts squishing against his pecs.

“I’m sure we can work something out.” She murmured, nibbling Lance’s ear. “If we just put our heads together… among other things.”

End of Part Two

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