By SizeQueenSupreme
(Fans interested in joining my fan club should feel free to message me on this page)
The guy was fucking ripped, no doubt about that. Pecs carved from solid stone, shoulders with definition like a bunch of bananas, biceps like Prize Hams, a veritable 12 pack of abs that were tight enough to show through his shirt, thighs the width of my narrow waist, and strong looking hands that might have even been large enough to palm even one of my HH cups. Now if only he weren't an asshole.
Said asshole had just rammed into my shopping cart with his as I browsed amongst the fruits and vegetables of the produce aisle.
“Hey Jackass! Watch where you're going!” I blurted.
“Oops! Sorry ma'am, it was an accident.” He stammered.
I scowled at him, noting that his eyes were indeed glued to my t-shirt bending bra-boulders. Angrily flicking my short brown hair I called him on it.
“Accident my 'A'! You were staring at my T!”
“Wh-uh?” He blinked at my wordplay.
“My breasts. Quit lookin' at 'em, before you hit another cart.” I snapped.
“I wasn't looking at your breasts!” He protested, moving his head around to cast his gaze elsewhere, any where else he could get them. “I was looking at those watermelons.”
I folded my arms beneath my watermelo-nish rack and lifted an eyebrow, fighting a smirk.
“Unnah, I mean, I was checking out those Cassavas.”
I lifted my other eyebrow, snickering now.
“No! No that's not what I meant! Pumpkins! I was definitely taking a long hard look at a couple of pumpkins!”
“Strike three Mister. Give it up.”
He sighed, slumping a little in defeat. I looked him up and down, and now I was the one guilty of ogling. Not his great muscles, nor that chiseled version of Keanu Reeves face of his, but rather that massive bulge bursting in his loose-fitting pants. That couldn't be real!
I had to know.
“And if being a pervert weren't enough! You're clearly one of those overcompensating gym-rat guys! How could you expect anyone to be gullible enough to believe that!?” I said, pointing at his crotch.
He gasped...then got an odd smile on his face. “Now whose the pervert? You were checking out my junk!”
“You're the one who crammed a pickle in there!”
“Oh please, I'm much bigger than a pickle.”
I cast my eyes around the produce. “Okay, a Zucchini then.”
He just laughed. “Why would I stuff my pants with something smaller than my actual tool?”
The color drained from my face. He seemed confident. Genuine.
“Well what did you cram in there, then?”
“Come with me.” He said. I shrugged and followed. We meandered the shelves and counters until he'd brought us to the deli section. “If a man wanted to stuff something in his pants to be like me, he'd need this.” He said placing an object in both my hands.
I looked at the baguette I looked at him. I looked at the bread again. Then I looked at him.
“Bull SHIT!” I spat, throwing the French bread into my grocery cart.
“I'm not lying.” He said with a calm shrug.
“I'll make you a bet,” I said, “Come back to my place. If you're anywhere NEAR the size of a baguette, I'll let you get to know my tits up close. Of course when you flop out whatever you're ACTUALLY stuffing in there, you have to cover the cost of my grocery bill.
“You're on.” He said. “I'll see you out front. Oh, and my name is Paul.”
“Holli.” I said. While he went away, I took my time, picking out expensive groceries in vast quantities, several bottles of champagne, saffron, and everything else pricey I could think of. Then I walked him to my nice little corvette, and took us both back to my loft.
* * *
“All right. Drop 'em.” I commanded. We stood in the foyer of my too damned expensive place, the groceries still in bags on the ground.
“Woah, what if I don't want to?” He said.
“Then you lose the bet and write me a check for the amount on this receipt.” I said, handing him the $514.67 bill.
He sighed.
“I'm not hard yet. Do I at least get to be properly ready?”
“Sure, but I don't keep porno mags around here or something. And you don't get to see MY tits unless you win, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?”
“I want you to say some stuff. Tell me what you'd really do for a man that size.”
I rolled my eyes into the next zip code.
“All right. Fine. For a man that size I would...I would get down on my knees and worship his cock.” I leaned in, talking more intensely and softer.
“I'd polish the tip of his knob with my tongue until I could see my own whorish face in it.”
Now I was whispering.
“I'd cradle his fat balls in my palms and tug on them while I drank every last drop of his cum. That's right, I'd be nothing but a jizz-jar for a man that size, a slutty little big-tittied bitch with a gutful of spunk and a cuntful of cock.”
He groaned, rubbing his hands along his clad length, far, too far down his leg as I spoke, whispering in his ear now as I watched with interest at the hardening schlong. I was definitely beginning to get scared of losing. I couldn't really afford that much! My rent check would bounce!
He unzipped.
His pants dropped to the floor and my jaw followed right behind them.
Holy mother of God.
Trembling I held the French bread to the top of his hard cock, a little whimper coming out of my cockstunned face. His cockhead was perhaps four inches LONGER than the baguette My brain fought to reject this reality, the fact that I was out 500 dollar only the smaller shock. My knees were weak. My eyes just roamed up an down the thing. The head was fat and spear-like in the way it bulged, but even that wasn't as thick as the middle of his shaft, which flared out like my thigh in girth.
His arrogant smile was now in full bloom, and I looked timidly, helplessly, in his sparkling dark eyes.
“I'll bet you regret having said those things.” He said
I nodded.
“I'll bet you regret it... because now you realize that they're true.” He added.
Oh my god. He was right. My face flushed with my humiliation.
“If you don't mind, I'd like my reward now. Who knows... it might actually get me the rest of the way hard.”
My eyes bulged and I stared down as he lifted the middle of his shaft, showing me how it still drooped a bit; it was indeed only a semi.
I fainted.
* * *
When I woke up, I was a little colder. Looking down I saw that my top was off, and my bra was next to me, HH cups you could practically fit my head into splayed on the ground. Paul stood over me, hand slowly wanking his glorious cock with long majestic strokes.
“You've got a great pair, Holli.”
So did he. I stared at how his huge balls bounced while he fisted his prick, amazed at the way his girth kept even his long fingers from really meeting around it.
“You...you can play with them...if you want.” I said, still blinking awake at this point.
“Yes. I can.” He said as he put his feet on either side of my hips and squatted down, balls resting on my thighs like a pair of ripe canteloupes, hands reaching up to cup and squeeze my huge funbags. His touch was masterful, and my nipples stiffened right up in response to his rough, skilled caresses. He pressed my knobs together, fondling those hard little nubs in the middle now, jiggling my tits against one another with an almost casual expression on his face.
I arched my back and moaned, body instinctively trying to find a way to offer more of itself up to him. My boobs felt hot, tingly, and almost swollen with pleasure. He lowered his huge cock onto my right breast, pressing his shaft into it, making flesh conformed to his shape, titflesh wrapping up and around the sides of his thick love log, nipple a button of enjoyment where it ground against the underside of his astounding tool.
He swiveled his hips, grinding his shaft back and forth across my chest, giving my boobs a thorough smooshing with each pass, then he let his thick fuckstick slam down between them, making me grunt from the heavy weight and impact, his big hands gathering my tits up to wrap around himself, fucking my bra-bombs like they were no thing to him. His cock was so long and his balls so ponderous, that with every thrust the meaty nutsack raked across my still-clad clitoris, the mass of his cream-crates pressing through the denim fabric to really make my already overwrought clit sing with pleasure.
“Let me suck it!” I begged. “Let me cram your big fat cock in slutty mouth and lip-fuck you. I want your cum in my tummy so bad! Your huge cock is so fucking long anyway, you can keep right on balling my boobs!”
As if on cue, his huge prong's slit opened and spilled a nasty wad of pre-spunk on to my face. I slowly smeared a fingertip through it, then brought that finger to my mouth, moaning my approval as I drank him in, loving the taste of his sweet sack syrup.
Then he tilted his hips down and plowed his thick head into my mouth, spreading my jaws so wide that my upper lip almost completely covered my nostrils. My tongue vainly swatted and slipped along the humongous invader, but he was in control of this blowjob, lustily fucking my tits as he stuffed his length in and out of me. The sweep of his uncut cockead was so vast it didn't pop out of my mouth the way any normal cock would have, but rather pulled my whole face after it, my lips getting stretched away from my face in a grotesque mask of whorish slavery.
There was nowhere for the copious precum to flow either, and I was making strangled noises from deep in my throat as a perpetual stream of it ran down my gullet, threatening to fill my stomach and lungs as one, my outward snorts to breath disgorging thick drops of him, battering my upper lip in this preview load.
Despite all the difficulty, he seemed impressed at my performance, and abandoned my tits entirely to draw up and stuff a little more meat into my throat. His now-hard length was easily over two feet, and I wasn't going to be fitting all of that in this life time, but I tried hard, forcing my gag reflex to the back of my mind, ignoring the protests the nerves in my throat mad. My eyes rolled in their sockets as he dug his dong deeper and deeper, waves of nausea colliding with the tide of lust, the organs normally intended to help me eat and breathe now only serving the purpose of pleasuring this impossible impaling prick.
With one final frustrated grunt, his tremendous gash-grinder threatening to push my head through the floor, he stuffed fully half of himself into me, shaking my head up and down with his hands, precum and drool building around his cock, a moist mess with nowhere to go it was stopped up so tight. When he withdrew at last, my whole system went into reverse, a veritable geyser of air and slobber and prespunk spewing from between my lips, the dense wet wad finally splattered back down between my eyes, smearing the whole of my face.
“Well done, little suckslut. You're really earned that orgasm.”
“What orgasm?” I asked, walking right into his trap.
“This one.” He responded, abruptly grabbing my hips, and lifting me like the nothing I was to sit on his shoulders, pussy mashed into his face.
