Back to Krystal’s for a nightcap

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, all dominated by the scent of flowers. She also has a well-stocked bar from which she gives you a single malt whiskey.

“You entertain often?” you ask when you see the array of drinks in her bar.

“Not as often as I’d like,” is her reply. She’s poured a gin and tonic and then takes a seat next to you on the sofa. She sprawls over her side of the sofa, allowing her denim skirt to ride up her thighs until you can catch a glimpse of the knickers beneath, and her red V-neck top to skew on her shoulders, so that not only her cleavage but now snippets of her bra slide into view. Her hazel eyes are boring into you, like a tractor beam drawing you towards her. You shift on the sofa, surreptitiously trying to adjust the length in your pants, and each time you shift you’re closer to her.

The conversation meanders, neither of you really paying attention to what’s being said. You both know where this is going. You’re just going through the motions until the next step feels inevitable.

Somehow you’re right next to her on the sofa, and she’s flung one leg over your knees. You have a fantastic view of her flowery knickers. Is that a wet spot you spy? Your faces lean towards each other. You can’t resist anymore. Whatever she was saying is lost as you kiss her. Time has no meaning within the kiss. It’s passionate. It’s intense. Her desire for you is as **** as yours for her. Your hand reaches up and at last grasps one of her breasts. You’ve never felt such large mounds of flesh before. Your fingers dig in, feeling the wire mesh of the bra that keeps these monsters confined. The wire mesh is the only thing that resists your grip. Your other hand heads to her other breast.

You break from the kiss. She’s looking at you, her hazel eyes as filled with as much desire as you know is in yours. She reaches down, takes her red top and pulls it over her head.

“You’ve been looking at these all evening,” she tells you. “I’ve seen you. You’ve tried to be discrete, but everyone looks at these and no-one’s that discrete.”

Then she reaches round her back, unhooks her bra and lets it tumble. The flesh of her breasts spills out, almost unfurling down her chest. More female flesh than you’ve ever seen. Vast mounds almost reaching her stomach.

“H,” she tells you. You look at her confused. “Size H. Have you ever seen any bigger?” Now you understand.

“No,” you breathlessly reply.

And your hands are back on her breasts, squeezing them, losing fingers in the depths of the flesh. Your thumb runs over her pronounced areola to rub against her hard nipples. Those nipples are calling for your caresses, for your kisses, for your teeth and your tongue. You lean down and suck on one of her nipples. It’s salty with her sweat. Your tongue flicks the hard nub and she groans in satisfaction. You carry on squeezing and playing with the ripe flesh of her other breast.

You switch breasts. Mouth moving to the undevoured nipple. Hands reaching to squeeze the saliva slick flesh of the other breast. Then you can’t help yourself. You plunge your face between both mounds until your nose touches her chest. Then you shake it, feeling the squeezing flesh bounce off your cheeks. After an eternity of pleasure, you come up for air.

She’s looking at you with utter joy. “You’ve always wanted to do that?” she asks.

“You bet.”

“Well, I want to do this?” She pushes you back. Only when you’re moving away from her do you realise that while you’ve been lost in her tits, she’s been undoing your trousers. Moving back sees them slide down your legs. She pulls them further down. Your boxers are strained by your erection. She takes them and pulls them down as well. It’s with some relief that your swollen dick is released. She pauses at it bounces before her. “Wow.”

“Have you ever seen bigger?” you ask.

“Once or twice,” she gasps. “But they were never this big and this hard.”

Her hand reaches up to grasp your shaft. She can only just get her fingers around it. She leans in. Her breath tickles its head. Then she’s kissing it, delicate kisses on the glans. Then she’s licking it, long licks from the base to the head, her rough tongue making it bounce. You didn’t think you could get any harder, but you have. It gets harder still when she returns to the head and slowly slides it into her mouth. Past her lips. Past her teeth. Deeper until you reach the back of her throat, half your length engulfed in her mouth, saliva running down her chin, running down your shaft, pleasure emanating from your shaft through your whole being.

She pulls off panting. “I’ve got to try this. I’ve got to try this.” She pulls off her knickers, pushes you back onto the sofa, and straddles you. One hand holds your shaft as she guides it to her already drenched pussy. Her hole parts easily and she lets gravity slide her down its length. She moans her satisfaction only stopping when she’s sitting on your balls. “Fuck,” she exclaims.

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 you and place her back on the sofa. 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.

“I’d better go,” you tell her, gathering your boxers and your trousers from where they’d been discarded.

“Yes, you’d better go,” she agrees. “Because if I have any more of that wonderful dick, I might never let you go.”