Stay with Krystal

“I’ll have another pint.”

You can see the disappointment in Abigail’s face as you say these words, but you feel the need for another one. You say goodbye to Abigail, Anissa, Spencer and Blair, and you are alone with Krystal.

Krystal buys the round, and you sit with her. You try to talk about her job, but she’s still worked up by the previous conversations.

“They don’t think much of me, do they? They act all high and mighty, as if they’re better than me. I let my sexuality be evident. I like sex. I like men.” Her hazel eyes gives you no ambiguity about what kind of men she likes, all men, including you, especially you. And her desire is emphasising her curves, fat tits, plump ass, her body oozing sexuality as it tackles the constraints of clothing. A few drinks in and it appears the clothing is losing the battle to keep her body confined. And every flash of her lacy, flowery bra and the tits confined inside, and every wiggle of her ass, and batting of eyelids, challenges your own clothing to confine your monster of a trouser snake.

“And I’m sure men like you, I know I do.”

“I always feel so inadequate. Blair, men are always fawning over Blair. And Anissa, it drives me mad, that woman looks down on any form of enjoyment. I’ve seen men flocking to her, and all it does is drive her away. They are real women. I’m overweight. My ass is too big.”

“Nonsense. I can think of two assets any sane man would salivate over.”

She looks at you, bites her lip, and a mischievous look crosses her face. “Most men say it’s the third that is most satisfying. Are you man enough to come back to my place and sample it?”

You can’t drink your pint quickly enough.

Krystal has a one-bedroom flat just off the high street, only a few minutes stagger from the Drowned Guppy. It’s elegantly decorated, with pastel-coloured walls, dimmable lighting, a flowery three-piece suite, a tech ridden kitchen, and filled with the scent of flowers. You’re soon immersed in the scent of her.

Your kisses roam her face, from her lips to her earlobe, to her neck, down to her clavicle, and to her cleavage. She’s soon divesting herself of her top. Her lacey, flowery bra doesn’t last much longer. Her breasts are weighty, sagging once released from the wired bra, mounted by large areola and topped by diamond hard nipples. You can taste her excitement in the sweat that’s dried in her cleavage. She shakes her breasts as they slap against your face. You play with her nipples, and she shudders with a mini-orgasm.

Somehow you end up in her bedroom. It’s a kaleidoscope of shades of pink, pale pink walls, dark pink curtains, patterned pink bedsheets. She spins you and throws you on the bed. You lie on your back as she wrestles first with your shoes then with your trousers. Lastly, she pulls down your boxers and freezes.

“Wow, that’s bigger than I expected.” Your dick stands resplendent before her. Her breath tickles its naked length. Then her tongue stretches out to caress it. It twitches when they connect. She laughs and licks some more. Long smooth licks, that encompass its entire length. You groan in pleasure with each one. She starts at the base, among the balls and the pubic hair and finishes at the head. Then she kisses the frenulum, kisses the head, slips it into her mouth and sucks.

Your dick slides in so easily, until it reaches the back of her mouth. Her throat opens and you descend into heaven. Half your length down her throat, saliva bubbling up from her lips, coating the length that cannot go in. She pulls off red faced and panting, her hazel eyes filled with lust.

“I’ve got to try this,” she croaks. She stands and slides her lacey and flowery panties off. They’re tossed aside as she clambers onto the bed, straddling you. Her hand grabs your shaft. She guides it to rub her glistening wet pussy, then she directs it to her hole and lets it enter. Her slide down is accompanied by a guttural moan of deep satisfaction. Your own moan is a moan of consent.

She pauses as she sits upon your balls. For numerous heartbeats you’re both motionless. This is the first vagina your newly enhanced phallus has felt, and you’re revelling in the pleasure that is now engulfing you. It’s not like you didn’t enjoy sex before, but this is something different. This is pleasure dialled up to ten. The way her hot slick walls grip your shaft is like no other pussy has ever managed. It feels natural. It feels right. It feels unnatural to ever change position.

Then she starts moving, wiggling her ass, rotating her hips, and the unbeatable pleasure is beaten. Her breasts are jiggling before you and you reach out and grasp them again. Your mouth returns to your worship of her nipples. Your hands return to the adoration of their size and weight. She continues to rotate and ride you. Her moans broken by interjections of joy. “So big! So deep! Oh god! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Her orgasm is sudden and overwhelming. You feel it in the pulsing of her snatch. You see if in the shuddering of her body. You hear it in the incoherent moans her exclamations degenerate into. It’s too much for your sex starved body. The weeks of repetitive masturbation could not overwrite the months of sex-free living. You’d only ever got Samantha to cum while playing with her, not while you were fucking her. You’d never felt an orgasm whilst inside a woman before.

“I’m coming,” you warn her, but neither of you can do anything about it. You’re both too lost in your pleasure to act. She’s a quivering mess of utter joy. You’re about to join her.

You unleash, pumping wave after of wave of semen into her. You can feel her pussy react, sucking the semen from your balls. Her gasps of joy gain an extra pitch. Her shivers of pleasure joined by your own.

You’re starting to wilt inside her by the time you regain your composure. You gently lift her off and place her beside you on the mattress. Her denim skirt is ruffled up to show her pink, well-fucked pussy.

“I’m sorry, I…” you begin.

She holds up her hand to stop you. “Don’t be. I’m safe.”

“You’re on the pill?”

“No, I’m…” she pauses for a moment, her hazel eyes lost in contemplation, then she looks at you straight. “I’m infertile.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Have been living with it most of my life. Just means I don’t have to worry about any complications when events like this happen. And I enjoy events like this. A lot. Some say it’s my favourite pastime.” She laughs a bit.

You both lie there for a while panting. Slowly your energy returns. Gingerly you pull yourself from the bed. Krystal watches you as you gather your clothes. She doesn’t move while you dress.

“You’re beautiful and don’t let anyone tell you differently,” you tell her, and she smiles. She’s lying on the bed, naked, a strip of short, dirty blond pubic hair pointing to her red raw, recently fucked pussy. One of her tits has sagged to the side. The other still juts up like a mountain towards the ceiling. Her eyes are flickering with sleep.

“If you ever need to drain that monster like that again, you know how to get me,” Krystal tells you. Oh yes, you do.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

You give her a long, goodbye kiss and then see yourself out the door and back home.