It was the first time that we have been apart for a long period of time; he was away on an internship job that was just too good to miss out on if he wanted to be at the forefronts of his career. So there I was, lonely as hell and counting the months we have spent apart and the time that remained before I could see him again and I came to the stark realisation that I had to find some other way to “blow off steam” and thus began my dark and arduous descent into a dark place from which there was no return
I can still remember to this day the way I drooled when I first saw a ten-inch black cock pumping in and out of a little teen girl and the way she moaned, screamed and begged for him to stop and not stop at the same time. My boyfriend’s dick was the only one I had seen, I didn’t know that dicks even went that big. It was like the almost the length of the petite girl’s arm and the balls were the size of eggs. I felt sympathy for the petite girl and could imagine what she was going through so much that I couldn’t watch anymore and went to bed.
Lying on my bed, I couldn’t get the image of that man’s cock out of my mind and how he was penetrating the girl with all his might. I started drooling again and slowly my fingers found their way to my pussy hole, I was surprised because I was already wet so it was obvious I was deeply aroused by what I saw. My fingers easily went through as I started fingering myself; my other hand was on my breasts as I gently pinched my nipples. My mind went haywire while my I was still daydreaming of the pussy-ripping cock I saw.
My fingers started going faster and faster as I imagined the girl being rimmed by that magnificent dick and for a brief moment there I imagined that it was me being rammed like that. My fingers were going so fast that I thought I was going to hurt myself but I didn’t care because the pleasure was so extreme that it surpassed any pain that might come. It was an earth-shattering orgasm that finally made me realize that he had to come home, one way or the other.
When I was finally relieved, I couldn’t believe that I just did my very first masturbation and I loved it. Granted, it was no substitute for an actual dick but it would do the trick for the meantime.
Days, weeks and months went by a little faster when I started pleasuring myself, the porn helped a lot and my favourite videos were still those of little innocent and naïve eighteen year olds being ripped apart by big black cocks. My love for it was so much that one would say it was bordering on addiction but I knew that I just missed him. Plus, I also knew that it would soon end because he was coming back very soon.
The day he was to return I had everything planned out. I was going to surprise him by waiting for him in his apartment wearing his favourite lingerie. My heart was beating very fast as I got ready and waited for him. It was going to be the first sex I have had in months and I wanted it to be worth the long wait.
When he finally came, he wasn’t all that surprised when he opened the door and saw me but that didn’t matter one bit to me because I was horny as hell. I jumped on him like a lion pouncing on its prey as he grabbed me and started kissing me deeply. I opened my mouth as his tongue found its way in and explored ever possible crevice. He gently bit my neck as I moaned loudly, all the while removing all his clothes with haste.
He carried me to the bed and went to work on my breasts, sucking and biting my nipples in ways that drove me insane with pleasure. My hands quickly went to his cock as I stroked it with great intensity; he let out a soft moan. He then kissed and explored every part of my body with excruciating detail. I reached down and wanted to slide my fingers into my pussy but he stopped me, which me to long even more for his cock.
He proceeded to do what he does best as he placed his tongue first in the outer lips of my pussy and then the inner lips, licked and sucked them as I recalled what I had missed in the past months.
I really wanted to reach down and give him the best blowjob he has had in his life at that moment in time but I could not wait anymore, I desperately wanted his cock inside me as I grabbed his manhood and slid it into my pussy. I let out a gentle sigh of relief as my pussy was properly filled for the first time in months. I rose my hips and spread my legs a little but more to enable him penetrate deeper while he rammed away like an animal in heat
Don’t know if it was the anxiety of it all and being away for months but he didn’t last as much as he used to and came inside me only after about four minutes, give or take a minute. He let out a sigh of relief as he climbed off me; I gently rolled to my side and tried not to make it obvious that I was a little disappointed that he didn’t last as much as he normally did. But I took solace in the fact that he was home and we had all the time in the world to do better next time.
As we laid there in an awkward silence, my partially satisfied mind asked him how big he was down there. He pretended like he didn’t hear me the first time and I asked again, he replied ‘six inches’. A question I would come to regret to this day and an answer I wished he didn’t give me. Once again, I blame my partially satisfied mind as I salivated when I thought about the four inch difference I was missing out on. I thought to myself, ‘If six inches was this wonderful, then a full ten inches would be heavenly.’
I strained to remove those grave thoughts from my mind because I loved him and his cock was all I needed and it was enough for me (no matter how small it was in the grand scheme of cocks).
Few days went by and it was safe to say those thoughts of bigger dicks were out of my mind. The sex was back to being great and I was satisfied once again. That was until one day I saw a message saying, “I miss you baby and I cannot wait to see you, your tongue and your dick again, lol” accompanied by a nude picture of a blonde, blue-eyed girl. My heart sank deep into my chest as I read the message over and over again, trying to wake up from his horrible dream.
It is worth mentioning here that I have never once suspected him of cheating; neither have I ever snooped on his phone to look for compromising text messages. Luck wasn’t on his side that fateful day as the message came in the very moment I was just with his phone.
I demanded an explanation from him but it was too obvious and compromising of a text message for him to conjure up some sort of lie that would sound plausible to me. I immediately left his apartment despite his incessant begging, apologizing and screaming that it was a one-time mistake. But we both knew from the message that it was more than once. It was obvious she was well acquainted with all the magic he could do with his tongue. An experience I knew all too well.
I was heartbroken, disappointed, sad and to say the least burning with anger. In retrospect I now understand the meaning of the statement, “Never make any promises when happy or decisions when angry”. With anger raging all through me, I needed to go somewhere to clear my head and a friend’s birthday party was just where I needed to be, with all the booze I could have and music to dance always my sorrows, for the meantime at least.
When I got there, I had half the mind to look for some sort of trouble but I quickly waved off the feeling because I know it would serve no good. I just wanted to drink, dance and have the time of my life and that was when I saw “him” (a guy I now refer to as the architect of my demise) and I instantly knew that he was the trouble I was looking for…