We met on my first day of college. You were exactly the kind of smirking asshole my father kept away from me for eighteen years. Tall, well-built, good looking. Spectacular, evil kisser with a fat tongue long enough to reach the tip of your nose.
But let’s be honest. It’s your dick that I can’t stop thinking about.
At eight-and-a-half inches, your dick is BIG, but not the longest in the world. I rebounded with a black guy whose dick was almost a foot long, actually. But your cock might be the thickest in the world. And the… throbbingest?
That’s what blew me away. It was painfully, teeth-grittingly, bite-the-pillow-and-scream thick. And as hard as a lead hammer. But it… throbbed. It pulsed. It moved even when it was soft and still. So when you fucked me—and holy shit did you fuck me, every damn day—it was like getting it in two directions at once.
And, of course, those balls. Guys don’t seem to care about balls, but girls do. I do. They were big, and dense, and heavy, and they hurt when you swung your muscular hips and they smacked up against my ass like iron billiard balls.
You’d been fucking women since, God, twelve? Earlier? But you’d never had a pussy like mine.
I have a thing where pain—especially in my pussy—makes me very wet. Bizarrely wet. And I “am so warm inside it hurts,” you said once. “Plus it’s tight every time, which pussy never is.”
I’m an orange-haired full blooded ginger. IRL too. Red hair upstairs and down. My pussy is furry and flame-colored and you love that. My skin is naturally smooth—as in I don’t have to shave my legs or under my arms and I’m still smooth, something common for women with very strong feminine hormones—and my legs are longer than they should be. My fingers are longer too, and look amazing wrapped around your big thick dick. My toes are longer also, but I wear heels 24/7. You once saw me wear 3” stilettos into the shower. They’re just more comfortable for me; dad raised me in heels.
I’m tall. 6’1 and no that’s not with heels on. And I’m skinny: 130 pounds, more than half of it legs, and six full pounds of perfect, bouncy, pink-nippled tits. I’m soft enough to be fun to bite, and to spank, but light enough to throw over your shoulder and carry up to your bed.
You once made me cum by ripping my clothes off and spanking me in front of your whole fraternity. You had them sit down in the meeting hall, dicks straining against their jean shorts, while you stripped me, kissed me, folded me over your knees and took a belt to my backside for fifteen amazing minutes, bringing me off by allowing the heavy leather to smack my sensitive red asshole and small, drooling pussy until I cried like a baby and came like a whore all at once.
You licked my drippings off the belt and sent your friends to their rooms. All fifty members went upstairs to jerk off while I sucked an orgasm out of your big prick that damn near brought you to tears too.
“How is your mouth that big?” you say, every time. Sometimes you put your whole hand in my mouth and tickle my throat to assure yourself that no, I really don’t ever gag.
We broke up because if we didn’t, we were going to get married. I was going to get pregnant. And you’re a fuckboy and I’m, well, a slut? You loved that about me. I loved that about you.
You went off to fuck beach girls and teacher’s wives and I started dating black guys and older guys and women and, eventually, my boyfriend. Who is rich and sweet and decent looking and has a sturdy 7.5 inch dick that gives me a serviceable orgasm twice a week, maybe. He’s never stripped me in front of his friends, he’s never slapped me for talking back to him, he’s never fucked me doggy style over the handlebars of a motorcycle flying down the highway at almost 90, or spanked me with the belt my father used when I was a little girl.
And so I’ve never really… felt anything for him.
I’ve cheated on my boyfriend a couple times. He knows. He gets off on it, I think. You’d have never taken that shit. You’d have beaten the other guy unconscious, spanked me until my ass was purple, wrapped my dad’s belt around my neck and choked me while you forced your dinosaur dick all the way up my ass into my colon, the fat, wide, dripping mouth planting a quart of cum so far up inside me my stomach would hurt.
And then you’d spank me some more for good measure.
My boyfriend got a hard-on and jerked off in the closet while I fucked his brother.
It’s Monday. I’m in school, you’re supposed to be in school too. My phone vibrates.
It’s a text from you. A picture of your dick, hard, laying on a pillow.
I send a message back: Hey, Daddy. We flirt sometimes when we’re bored. Like… a lot.
Another picture. Zoomed out a little. And it’s my pillow. On the bed I share with my boyfriend.
I send another message: wtf?
You write back. I miss you.
Before I can type a response, your next message comes in. I never stopped loving you, you bitchy Ginger slut. No games. Giving you up was a mistake.
Are you in my bedroom!?
yep. you’ve got a fucking HUGE vibrator lol
my boyfriend is going to kill you
lol he hired me to mow your lawn
shouldn’t you be in school?
dropped out after we broke up. couldn’t take it
I don’t know how to react to this.
after a minute, you add: I forgot how good you smell. im gunna hang your panties on my rearview just for the scent
I look up and I’m in my car. I don’t know how I got there, I must have run out of class. I look, disgusted, at the little vibrator I keep in my glove compartment for times when I can’t get your out of my mind.
Shaking with fear, I type the words I know I’ll regret: I miss u, too
A long time passes. Then come get me appears on my phone, with a picture of you—your perfect body even more chiseled than I remember, and tanned from working outside apparently with your pants off—laying on my bed. About a dozen pairs of my panties are laying around you like rose petals, but damp with your precum. Your big lead dick looks half an inch longer. Your balls are blue and massive.
I show up at my door, and you’re right behind it, belt hanging from one fist.
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Her Tongue 