Shit, now I have to do laundry. I fucking hate laundry. I closed the book I had been jerking it to and threw it on my nightstand. The title, "Change Your Attitude, Change Your Life" didn't intrigue me as much as the smoke show on the cover: a beefcake of a man with the slightest bit of grey stubble and arms so jacked he could squeeze the life out of me and I'd thank him for it.
Yes, I masturbated to a guy on the cover of a book, but in my defense he was wearing nothing but a tank top (I'd buy tickets to that gun show) and loose fitting jeans (probably because his massive cock couldn't fit into normal fitting jeans; or so I told myself).
The book jacket said his name was Daniel Eastman, a "lifestyle and fitness expert" originally from San Antonio, Texas. Whatever all that meant I really didn't care; his face gave off serious "I'll eat your pussy" vibes and that was enough for me. Not to suggest I'd shack up with any douchebag that ain't pussy, just the ridiculously gorgeous ones.
I came across the book purely by accident while in a bookstore (I know, right, a fucking bookstore; I swear it's not the 90s). I was trying to avoid this pervert who kept staring at me so I ducked into the "Lifestyle" section and grabbed the first book, which so happened to be Mr. Hunk Danny.
I immediately rushed home (after paying for the book; I'm not a criminal) and googled this mountain of a man. I found out (after stalking him on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter) that he was in his 40s (Mm, yes daddy), not married (double yes) and had no children (triple yes). He did, though, appear to have a girlfriend (fuck).
I spent several days learning everything I could about him (don't judge): his favorite food - broiled chicken; his favorite movie - Casablanca; his favorite sexual position - doggystyle (OK, I made that last one up, but since it's my favorite position I figure it'll be his, too).
I also found out he would be doing a book tour for the same book I had jerked it to night after night while I fantasized about him ramming his enormous cock into my clean-shaven vagina (unless he preferred a bush, then he would be ramming his enormous cock into my hairy vagina; honestly, Facebook didn't list his vagina preferences).
His tour brought him to my hometown. I made sure to take the day off from work. I woke up early that morning and took an extra long shower (most of it was spent fingering myself to a thigh-soaking orgasm, but I did wash my hair, too). Afterward, I shaved my pussy bald, because I figure a guy who's into health and fitness would prefer a clean-shaven vagina.
I slid on a pair of cut-off jean shorts that exposed a good chunk of both my firm ass cheeks (yes, I am into health and fitness, as well, at least when I'm sober), a half-shirt that displayed my taut tummy and cowboy boots, because, well, I'm pretty sure they have cowgirls in San Antonio.
I had to check myself in the mirror, and damn I looked good enough to eat. I let my long blonde hair fall to my shoulders and dusted my face with a touch of blush and eye shadow. I complimented my look with some nude-colored lipstick. The cowboy boots had a slight heel propelling me from 5'3 to 5'4, but at more than six feet tall, he could still easily dominate me.
I arrived at the signing late, on purpose, so I could be the last one in line. I apparently just made it, as the manager/publicist/whomever cut the line right behind me. I saw in front of me some thirsty bitches, all decked out in fitness gear: yoga pants, tight shirts, sneakers, like they had all just come from the gym.
I'll admit, they all had great bodies. It appeared arriving late had two perks. Once each one got to the front of the line, she gave her prettiest smile in what had to be the saddest attempt at flirting. I almost wanted them to stick around and watch a professional.
Eventually, the room cleared and it was just the two of us. I stepped forward and he smiled at me. I almost broke concentration (keyword, almost) but remained focused on getting that dick.
"Hi, who should I make this out to?" he said.
"My name is Katelyn," I answered, as I leaned forward (damn, I was smooth).
"Sure, Katelyn," he replied, "now how is that spelled."
I spelled it out for him. "That's F-U-C-K-M-E."
He coughed. "I'm not sure that's exactly how I would have spelled it."
"Yeah, I've had issues with it my whole life," I teased. "Imagine the names the kids called me on the playground."
He looked at me like he wanted to, you know, spell my name (at least that's how I interpreted it). Unfortunately, some employees continued to linger in the store, so we'd have to find a quite place to fuck (ironic, since we were in a bookstore).
"It's such a great book," I lied, not having read one page. "Could we talk about some of it privately? I have so many fitness goals I want to achieve."
Instead of saying absolutely, right this way, and leading me to a backroom where he could pulverize my tender pussy, he had the nerve to turn me down. He claimed he had a busy schedule: more touring, photo shoots, and, of course, he had to spend time with his future ex-girlfriend (once he left her for me).
I kept a stiff upper lip, even through this rejection, but I threw out the puppy dog eyes and pouty lip just to see how far it could get me.
"You couldn't spare 10 minutes to help a poor girl out?" I whined. "I just lost my father to cancer and I'm afraid of falling off the wagon." (Yes, I pulled the dead father card, which I didn't technically have, since my dad was quite well.)
"Geez, I'm so sorry to hear that," he offered. "I'd love to help, but I'm really pressed for time."
Excuse me, I gave him puppy dog eyes, pouty lip and dead dad, not to mention the heat I brought in my highly inappropriate outfit that every other guy in the room couldn't stop staring at, and he still said no.
He began to pack up when I hit him with one final left hook. I said my father loved the San Antonio Spurs and his favorite player was Tim Duncan (see, because he's from San Antonio and the basketball team is called the Spurs and their best player was named Tim Duncan. I know sports, and I also know how to look things up on the Internet, namely typing San Antonio into Wikipedia.)
"Was your dad from the area?" he asked, rather sincerely.
"Born and raised," I said (he was neither). "Never wanted to leave but he had no choice when the family farm closed and the bank sold it."
I began bullshitting to the highest degree, coming up with all sorts of shit: my mom died when I turned one, my brother wound up addicted to meth and overdosed, and yet somehow I found my passion in lifestyle and fitness; that is until my father passed and I started losing the will to live.
He looked solemn. Perhaps I went overboard, and I would have felt slightly guilty except he told me he could clear some time if I was available now (yes, daddy). Of course I had a few minutes right now, I said, if we could find a quiet place.
We wound up in the manager's office and as I looked around at the pictures of his wife and kids, I felt this was as good a place as any to get fucked hard from behind. He sat on the sofa and I moved in close.
"I bet you wear those loose-fitting jeans because you're so well-hung you just can't fit all that cock into regular-sized jeans," I said, staring at his crotch.
"I'm sorry, what?" He seemed surprised, like he didn't know I wanted him to fuck me as hard as possible.
"How big is it? I won't tell anyone. Is it more than 10? I bet it is."
"I don't know what's happening," he stammered. "I thought you wanted to talk about your health and fitness goals."
"Absolutely," I said (and I did), "and my main goal is to get you to fuck me from behind. Though, I don't mind any position really."
I put my finger in my mouth and he could see my eyes light up. I started to slowly suck on my index finger, mimicking what I would do to his cock once he took it out and let me get my hands on it.
I made that finger all wet. I added a second and a third to show him I could handle all of his meat. I made myself gag and drool began to dribble out of my mouth and onto my chin and chest.
"OK, what the fuck is going on here," he yelled. "What is this?"
I lifted up my shirt and exposed my chest. My two impressive watermelons popped out, DD and quite-- (OK, fine, they were more like BB, but still amazing). I caught him staring.
"Does daddy like them?" I teased, as I used my wet fingers to make small circles around my nipples.
"No, daddy, I mean, I have a girlfriend. This isn't right." He said no, but he never moved toward the door.
"But, daddy, look at these little, puffy nips. I need a big strong man to suck on them."
He froze, unsure of what to do. I knew he wanted to give in, wanted to ravage me. He just needed that extra bit of motivation (and I was exactly the right person to give it to him). I pinched the hard buds between my thumb and index finger and pulled on them, making them protrude more.
"You need to stop," he said, more sternly than before, and put his hand out. "This is inappropriate."
"You're right, daddy, this IS inappropriate," I said, as I bit my lower lip. "Your little girl needs to be punished."
I turned around and bent over, showing off my firm ass in my cut-off jean shorts. I told him to spank me, because bad girls deserve to be spanked (and do they ever).
"How old are you?" he asked.
"23, but I can be any age you want. 18? 16?" I said, not sure of his exact fetish.
He stood up, which I took to mean he wanted me to unbutton his jeans and release the monster.
"Hey, you can't just unbutton my pants," he yelled. (I did). "And you can't just reach in and grab my dick." (I did that, too) "And you can't pull it out, either." (I did all three, actually)
"Oh, daddy, no wonder you wear such loose pants; there's no way this enormous cock could fit into regular-sized jeans."
Relax, this isn't what it looks like. His lips may have been saying one thing, but his body said another. If he really didn't want me to fuck him, he could have left. Hell, he's about 6'2 and 190lbs, he could have picked me up and tossed me away. Instead, he stood there as I gazed up at his manhood.
"I can't-- I have-- I should," but he couldn't finish a sentence, as I began to kiss the underside of his thick piece of meat.
"You can't what, daddy, wait to fuck me? I agree. And were you going to say you have a huge dick, because I agree with that, too. Oh, and then I should was probably I should fuck this girl, hard, from behind. Oh, I'm so glad we're on the same page."
This was almost too easy. Mr. health and fitness was practically melting in my hands even though his erection was actually getting stiffer. Hm, irony.
I quite enjoyed kissing the base of his cock, his balls and working my way up his engorged shaft to the head. Oh, his fat little head. I teased it with my thumb.
"God, I don't know if I can take all this. How does your girlfriend do it?" I asked, knowing full well how she did it. She stood about 5'11, muscular with a, and I hate to admit this, massively glorious ass that I would not complain if Daniel forced me to bury my face in. Damn, now I was thinking about a threesome. Could I make it happen?
I had never been with a black woman before (or person for that matter), but I loved trying new things and Daniel's girlfriend definitely fit the bill.
"You can take it," Daniel hissed, before he caught himself.
"Oh, I'm going to try," I said, cheerily. "I came here for this dick, so I'm not leaving until you stuff all of it inside my little pussy."
I stood up and removed my itsy-bitsy little shorts. I walked over to the couch and got on my hands and knees. I re-coated my fingers with my own saliva and used them to play with my pussy while I waited for Danny-boy to move his ass to the couch.
"Come here, daddy, come and take this pussy," I whispered.
He stared at his dick for a second, then at my firm bottom, and then back at his dick again. I wiggled my little bum for his enjoyment as I continued to play with myself. Did he forget how to please a woman?
"I'm going to cum without you," I said softly, not kidding. "You don't want to miss out on this nice, wet (and may I add freshly shaven) pussy."
Finally, Daniel made up his mind. He apparently loved his girlfriend too much. He somehow managed to shove his rock hard cock back into his underwear, zip up and leave the room.
I couldn't believe it. How dare he leave me in a state of-- nah, I'm only kidding, of course he came over and fucked me. He whipped off his shirt, took off his pants and shoes and positioned himself behind me.
"This never happened," he instructed. "Do you understand?'
"Yes, daddy, I understand," I answered. "It'll be our secret."
Just as I readied myself for his penetration, I felt a hard smack on my ass. I nearly stopped breathing. It took me a second to regain my composure.
"You said bad girls need a spanking, didn't you?" he noted.
While I did say that, I didn't expect it. His slap came out of nowhere, as did the second. God, he must work out just for the spankings, just so he can spank his girlfriend's gigantic ass. But he clearly didn't tone it down for my tight, little one.
"Daddy, you're spanking me so hard," I groaned (for real, because that shit hurt).
"What's wrong, the little cock tease can't take it?" he pressed.
I could, too, take it. So I told him, and he let me have it. After a total of six spanks he finally relented. By then, my ass turned bright red.
"This is what you came for, isn't it?" he teased, as he caressed my swollen booty. "You want to get dominated."
I did. I wanted it so badly. But I really came to get fucked, not spanked like a petulant child.
"I really came for that dick," I whispered. "Please give it to me."
Without warning, he buried the beast inside my belly. I think my soul left my body. He fucked me so hard and so deep that if he came inside me I'm pretty sure it would have come out of my nose.
He asked if I wanted more and I screamed yes. I don't know what the people outside thought, assuming they could hear us, but I didn't care. I finally had what I came for.
"Holy shit, you're going to break me in half," I moaned through gritted teeth.
He suddenly stopped, leaving his entire cock inside my body before beginning to slowly remove himself. I assume he finished and opened my mouth to complain, when he harshly stuffed every inch back inside me. Instead of words coming out, only air escaped my lungs.
My body shook, my toes curled, and I gripped the couch as hard as I could while a violent orgasm racked my body. I'm pretty sure it started in my throat and worked its way through my lungs, past my heart, down through my stomach, wound its way through my intestines and eventually forced its way out of my pussy.
I'm not ashamed to say that I drooled all over the couch. But I had no time to even clean myself before he flipped me over and began pounding me in missionary position. In and out, in and out, he pistoned his cock inside me like my body was the engine and we were racing in the Daytona 500. First fucking place.
At one point he had one leg in the air and one on the ground, then both in the air, then both on the ground, and then for his final trick he crossed my legs together to make my pussy that much tighter. I'm positive his cock got stuck and he literally had to cum inside me to force it out. (I told him I was on the pill and not to worry, but I'm a huge liar and he should definitely worry.)
Not satisfied with hammering my sensitive pussy (and without even complimenting how clean and beautiful it looked), he took his somehow still erect cock and stuffed it in my mouth like it was the Fourth of July and I had entered a hotdog eating contest. Only I couldn't chew and swallow this large wiener.
"You are so fucking dirty," he said, as he attempted to see how much dick he could fit in my mouth (answer, half) before pulling out and trying again (still half; my mouth didn't get any bigger in the two seconds he pulled out).
He was right, though, I was fucking dirty. I demanded he fuck me again. I even told him to try fucking me hard, like a real man. Whoops.
He proceeded to fold me in half like laundry and use my body like a trampoline. Up and down he went, in and out his cock went.
"Yes, daddy, yes," I begged. "You know how your little girl needs it. Fuck me like the bad girl I am."
Oh, did he. His large, muscular arms held me down as he violated my womanhood again and again and again. I grabbed onto his bulging forearms, looking for something to squeeze as I rode another back breaking orgasm. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my tongue fell limply from my mouth.
His incessant pounding both sent me to Heaven and brought me back to life.
"I'm going to fucking cum again," he screeched, as if I was in any condition to reply or care.
He must have figured I passed out, because he pulled out and unloaded ropes of sperm onto my face in what I can only assume was his way of trying to revive me. It worked as I opened my eyes (well, one eye) to find him spent on the couch, dick completely flaccid.
I wiped the cum from my face, making sure to swallow every drop (no sense in letting his hard work go to waste). Once sufficiently clean, I proceeded to crawl toward my worn out sexual partner and nestle myself in between his tree trunk legs. I took a hold of his cock and using my tongue cleaned him up like a dog licking a dinner plate.
I sucked his balls into my mouth and slowly jerked him back to life. Well, I jerked his dick back to life. Poor Daniel didn't move.
"Mm, daddy's so tired from fucking his little girl's tight pussy. You just relax and let me handle this."
Once I turned his flaccid member into the massive erection it had been only minutes ago (or it could have been an hour, I honestly don't remember), I crawled on my hands and knees up his body and hovered above his thick piece of wood. I lowered myself down, inch-by-inch, until my ass rested on top of his balls.
I placed my hands on his chest as I ground my pussy against his hard-on. I took my time, felt him open me up and push my lips apart. His earlier pounding didn't afford me the opportunity to really feel him inside of me, appreciate how easily he forced me to accept him.
God, I could feel him in my stomach. I closed my eyes and rowed back and forth, then side to side, letting his erection take control of my body. Wanting more, I pushed up off my knees and onto my feet and began to bounce on his dick.
Daniel started to come to life, but I pushed his hands away when he tried to grab my waist.
"No, no, not this time, daddy," I moaned.
He obliged and I rode him like a champion jockey at the Kentucky Derby. Just like he had done earlier, I, too, went up and down, though slower and more methodical. I kept my hands on his chest for balance.
Daniel mumbled something incoherently, then about five seconds later he came inside me again, so apparently he tried to tell me he was cumming. I rode his orgasm until he finished. By then, it became my turn so I dropped down and came all over his dick.
I left satisfied, though wobbly, and honestly had to buy a bag of ice just so I could sit in my car and drive home (my pussy was that sore). He obviously felt bad about what he did, because he said several more times I couldn't tell anyone what happened. Sure thing, I said, because I'm a truthful person.
Besides, who would believe me. It's not like I had my camera recording any (or all) of it. I would never do that.
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