I’d no sooner set my phone down than it buzzed and then rang again. I assumed it was Richard, calling back again in the midst of his drive home from work to say he’d forgotten to tell me something, but the caller ID said otherwise.
It said “Brown Man”, my nickname for our long-time UPS driver and more recent good friend and playmate, James, so dubbed because my nephew, when he was about four, dubbed their UPS delivery guy “The Brown Man” due to their mud-brown trucks and uniforms, even though their guy was white. Subsequently, all male UPS guys are officially The Brown Man, race aside.
It so happens that James, our driver and friend, is also African-American, a rarity in our rural area, but he thought the story of our nephew was funny, so it stuck – and allowed him to ask, “What can Brown do for you?” In his case, it had turned out that he could do quite a lot!
I answered. “Hey, James, what’s going on? Are you almost here?”
“Nah, sweetcheeks, that’s why I’m calling. I have a big load today…”
“I’ll bet you do!”
He laughed. “Stop that! So anyhow, I’m running a little late.”
“That’s not a problem, get here when you can.” It was a Friday afternoon, and after he finished his route, he was coming up to spend most of the weekend with us for fun and games, to get out of the city, and because we enjoyed his company. He’d arranged to have another UPS guy, a dispatcher and a friend drive partway up to meet him, bringing James his pickup and driving the big brown delivery van back to the depot in the city, far from our very rural route.
“That’s what I wanted to find out. I have a package for you…”
“Oh, I know you do, and a very lovely and impressive package it is!”
“Double-entendre queen.” He laughed again. “I’m beginning to sense that you’re horny.”
“Hmmm, let me check…” I did, sliding my hand into the front of my jeans even though I already knew the answer. “Wow, you’re good! Hot, wet, and slippery, but I’m surprised you could sense that over the phone… mmm, delicious too!”
“Damn, girl, you’re fucking killing me here. I’ll have to make the rest of my deliveries with a hardon, you know.”
“Just don’t let any of your other customers talk you into anything that might change that situation; I already have plans for that hardon.”
“I would have bet on that.”
“I’m pretty sure Richard has plans as well, so you need to remain the master of your own domain.” My husband is bi, a fact which James accepts and has loosened up enough to appreciate as an extra feature of our threesomes.
“What?”
“Sorry, gratuitous ‘Seinfeld’ reference. White people humor, I’m sure you’d call it. I’ll tell you later.”
“Cool. Listen, why I called; are you okay with me just bringing your package when I come later, or do you want me to drop it while I’m still on the clock?”
“Uhh… shit, I don’t know. Any reason why it matters? It’s not perishable, right?”
“No, no tags. I just wondered.”
“That’s not breaking any rules, is it?”
“Probably, but I didn’t figure you’d report me.”
I laughed. “Not if you promise to treat me right!”
“Fuck, baby, I always treat you right, don’t I?”
“Good point, even if I do walk a little bowlegged after a night with you and Richard.”
“But I know you love it. Listen, I’ve got a business delivery and a fucking terminal hardon I have to try to hide in this thin, shitty uniform – gotta go.”
“Ah, the price you pay for being hung like a horse, stud. Good luck – think horny thoughts, and we’ll see you a little later.”
He snorted. “Ha! Horny thoughts, the last thing I need. See ya in a bit.”
After the line went dead, I put my shoes on so I could go out and roam the field with the dogs for a little while. We’d been out about half an hour and were far out, a few hundred yards across the meadow at the tree line where they’d chased a couple of deer into the woods, when I saw my husband turn up our driveway.
Hobo and Darwin – we were taking care of our friend Walt’s dog, Darwin, while he was in Hawaii with his “lady friend” – took off for Richie’s truck, while Bandit, the only female and the alpha, stayed with me. She’s my girl, 100%, while Hobo is Richard’s spirit animal, and Darwin goes where Hobo goes. He stopped halfway up the drive and opened his door, and Hobo jumped in while Darwin launched himself up into the truck bed. Blue Heelers and Australian Shepherds, which encompasses the three of them, are shockingly athletic and scary smart, although their exuberance sometimes masks their intelligence.
As he continued up the drive with no fear of running over a dog barking at his wheels, I turned and headed back to the house, my lady Bandit at my side. We met at the front steps, and he gave me a quick hug, his hands skimming down my back to squeeze my ass while he pulled me tightly against him. To my surprise, I could feel his erection hard against me.
I wiggled, rubbing myself on his thick bulge. “That’s nice! Is that in my honor, or were you playing while you drove?”
He grinned. “Some of both, plus, you know, anticipation. Is James still coming?”
I nodded. “He is. He called a little while ago to say he might run a little later than he’d hoped, and he has a package for us that he’ll just bring when he comes instead of making an extra stop.” Stepping back, I admired the bulge of his arousal clearly outlined against the thin worsted wool of his gray suit. I ran my fingers over the long ridge of his erection, the sensation of his hard heat and my fingertip bumping over the firm, raised ring of his corona going directly to my pussy, where the wetworks commenced to commence.
“So, tell me more about this anticipation that helped us to arrive at this delightful juncture. Was there a handsome black man with an enormous cock, your sweet, shy, innocent wife, and horny old you involved?”
“Amazing! You are positively psychic!”
“Mmm. Some might say psycho, but what do they know? But my powers only go so far – details, I need details!”
He laughed. “You want to know what I was fantasizing about.”
“Of course! A fantasy shared has a much greater chance of coming true.”
“I don’t know if that’s true, but I do like the thought. Okay, here goes: You, on your hands and knees…”
“I love it so far!”
He laughed again. “Knew you would, now shut up and listen.” I pretended to zip my lips, and he went on, “Okay. Naked, ass in the air, your nipples hard as diamond…” He tweaked one, and I gasped. “Yeah, like they are now. Pussy dripping, your body quivering with arousal, lips puffy…”
“Mmmm, which set?”
“Both, of course – it’s you, after all. Now shut the fuck up if you want to hear this! James behind you, on his knees, that big cock of his thick and hard and resting on your lower back, balls against your ass and pussy, you whimpering, begging him to put it in…”
“Yeah, that does sound like me.”
“You are pathologically incapable of not speaking, aren’t you?”
I shook my head ‘no’, and he laughed. “Nice try, but I’m not buying it. Anyhow, he’s grinding against your ass, his big balls getting your sweet pussy juice all over them, his cock sliding on your back from the top of your ass crack to mid-spine.”
He was touching me, and he felt my shudder of arousal. “You’re diggin’ this, huh?”
I nodded, but raised my hand. He smiled, shaking his head. “Okay, permission to speak.”
“Where are you during all of this?”
“Well, underneath you, of course – that’s how I know your pussy is dripping and his balls are snuggled tight against your hot box. I have a front row seat for all the good parts, and I can lick your hard little clit, which is just begging for it, and his balls…”
“He has come to appreciate that, hasn’t he?”
“As do I, but you knew that. Oh, and incidentally, I’m lying the opposite way from you, so…”
“So your cock is right there in front of my face, rock hard, no doubt, and very convenient for sucking. You have it all worked out in that kinky little mind of yours, don’t you?” As I was talking, I’d unzipped him and was now fishing around inside his pants, trying for a good angle to wrap my hand around his stiff, swollen erection. He groaned when I seized him, and again as I worked his length out of his open zipper and into the sunlight, not an easy logistical puzzle given my husband’s big cock – not on the James scale, necessarily, but still an admirable organ in its own right, and one most any woman would find more than adequate.
“To answer your question, yes, I have it all diagrammed. As for kinky minds, I’m not the one who exposed my husband’s big, hard cock right here in front of God and everybody.”
As he’d spoken, I’d gone back in and fished his balls out to join the party. I’ve heard some women say they don’t like men’s balls, but I love a nice, well-groomed, virile, heavy set like Richard’s and rarely miss an opportunity to lick, suck, or merely fondle them, as I was doing now. Fortunately, he enjoys it as much as I do!
“Great rack, stud. Okay, first, there is no ‘everybody’ to see, just us and God, and we’ve all three seen it – and I’ve thanked him, sometimes very vocally, for blessing you so.”
“Babe, the road is right there!”
“Right there” was at least a quarter mile away, downhill and across the meadow, on the far side of a creek lined with alders.
“As you can see, there is nobody on that road. It’s never exactly busy, you know. And anyhow, you’re big, but not that big! You either have delusions of grandeur, or you think people drive around here with binoculars pasted to their eyes.”
I was softly stroking him as I talked, sort of a verbal/physical tease combo. I love the way he feels in my hand, thick and hard, hot, the rough, gently ridged surface of his organ encased in silky smooth, soft penile skin, which feels like nothing else and is incredibly sensual to me. I also love the way he feels in my mouth, or buried deep inside of me, but those are different pleasures, and right now I was savoring this one.
I’d slid my hand up his length to massage his knob and was fingering his tiny slit when he groaned. “Ooohhh, fuck, don’t make me come!”
“Hair trigger, sweetie?”
“I just told you what I was fantasizing about, so hell yes, I have a hair trigger. Stop! Babe, stop!” He pushed my hand away, and I laughed as I watched his cock strain and spasm with the pre-orgasm sensations he was battling. He seemed to be winning the battle, but I smiled as I watched one tiny issue of his sweet cream escape the swollen tip.
“Oops, that was a near thing, wasn’t it?”
“Fuck! Evil bitch.”
“Why yes, I am, thank you.” I pointed at the thin stream of white pearl that was trickling down his veiny shaft. “Can I get that, or would that be the straw that broke the horny camel’s resolve?”
“No, you can get it, but quickly! No fucking around.”
I bent down and ran my tongue up his shaft, capturing the wayward semen, shuddering with arousal at the feel and scent, and the taste of him on my tongue and in my mouth. When I got to the head of his cock I quickly engulfed it, sucking the last of his near-miss from his urethra. I showed mercy, letting him go just in time as I swirled the tiny amount of his cum in my mouth before swallowing. His full loads are much, much more impressive, but just as delicious!
He gasped and pulled away from me, his cock rigid and jutting proudly out of his open zipper. He started to make motions as though he was going to try to tuck it away, safe from my grasp, but I stopped him.
“Don’t, hon’, let it stick out. I like looking at it.” It was true. He looks great in a suit, powerful, tall, and strong with shoulders like a male model, but he looks even better with his big, stiff cock jutting proudly out of the open fly. Less business-like, of course, but very sexy.
He looked down at himself, and then at me. “You promise to look but not touch?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I think I can control myself – unless, you know, you start to lose your mojo or something, and then I might have to, uh, re-mojo you just a little.”
He squeezed his cock between his fingers, barely denting it. I knew he was as hard as a piece of rebar – the bulging veins on his shaft and the straining upward and backward curve of his organ making it plain to see.
“Babe, I don’t think my mojo is going anywhere, provided you don’t make me shoot it across the room. Fuck, I’m so hard it aches.”
“Poor baby! I know how I could fix that, and you’d feel so much better.” We’d intentionally abstained from everything, joint effort or self-help, for the past three days – an eternity, for us – and were both almost irritable with sexual need, but I knew he’d decline my offer or I wouldn’t have made it.
“As lovely as that sounds, I think I’ll hold off and just let it howl at the moon for now. James is tough enough competition with that big cock of his without me starting on round two.”
“You see him as competition? He’s not, you know. He’s just a cool friend and fun occasional addition for both of us to enjoy.” I looked at him, but he just stared silently back. “You do know that, right?” I glanced down at his cock, because that’s who I am, and it didn’t show any sign of the hesitancy I was suddenly sensing in him – in fact, just the opposite as a tiny trickle of shimmering precum slid down his length.
“Mr. Happy doesn’t seem to share your concern, Richie.”
He smiled. “Mr. Happy always thinks with his small head, that being the only one he has. And yes, I see him as competition, but I know I have the inside track.”
I stretched up and kissed him, careful not to rub against his apparently oversensitive organ. “You have the only track, Richie. The others we play with are like having an appetizer or dessert, but you’ll always be the main course.
“Mmm, I like that! A thick, perfectly cooked steak.”
“A big, thick, juicy, perfectly cooked tube steak, in fact. Very filling, dripping with its own hot juices…”
He laughed. “You’re such a horny slut! I love it.”
“You say the sweetest things!” I grabbed his cock the way I do, to lead him up the stairs. “C’mon, let’s go in and get ready.”
He groaned. “Careful with that thing, it’s loaded!” He gently unwrapped my fingers from around his cock and transferred my hand to his bulging sack, where I eagerly seized his big danglers. “Lead by these instead; less danger of an accidental discharge.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. Holding the loaded magazine, not the weapon itself. Good gun safety tip.” I led him up the stairs, gently squeezing his testicles all the way. It made him walk a bit awkwardly, but he didn’t seem to mind.
As I stepped onto the porch, he freed himself, remaining on the top step. “Turn around.” He swirled his finger in the air, as if I didn’t know what the words ‘turn around’ might mean. Nonetheless, I did so, and he whistled. “Fuck me, that ass in those jeans! When I leave in the morning, what time does the crew from Wranglers arrive to paint those on you?”
I laughed. “Right after you leave, in fact, but it takes them a while to get started, by the time we have a cup of coffee and I give everyone blow jobs so they can focus on their work.”
“Yeah, that sounds like you. Seriously, though, if Wranglers isn’t paying you to wear those, you need a better agent. Your ass has sold more jeans than all of their advertising ever has.”
“I am wearing their billboard on the waistband and their logo on the pockets. I really should get paid, huh?” He nodded, but I’d turned around, and now he was staring at my crotch. I watched him for a few seconds before I became self-conscious, thinking I may have wet-spotted (not outside the realm of prior experience), and said, “What? What are you looking at?”
He held up a finger to silence me and started fumbling at his pocket, reaching for his phone. I hadn’t heard it ring, but I watched as he got it out, hit the button, and held it to his ear.
“Hello? Um, yeah, this is he. What?” He glanced at me. “Yeah, sure – I’ll tell her. No, no problem, I’m sure she’ll understand. Sure, okay. Bye.”
Prepared for disappointment, I said, “Was that James? Is he not coming?”
He shook his head. “No, that was a Mr. Camel. He said he’d like his toe back, if you’re finished with it.”
I seized the cushion from the deck chair to the right of the door and hurled it at him. “Smart ass! I do not have a camel toe!”
He ducked, laughing. “Actually, you do. A very cute, very delectable – and if I were to check, probably very wet, slippery camel toe. It looks great on you, though.”
“Says the guy with his cock and balls flapping in the breeze – which also looks great on you, by the way.”
“Thank you!” He twisted his hips, making his erection wave at me. “Think I should stay like this until James gets here?”
“Think you can?”
“I’ll try, with a little help from my friends.”
“Thank you, Ringo. James would love it. I mean, he’d laugh, but I’m sure he’d be very flattered.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking how James would react to Richard greeting him with a hardon and a hug. He’s mostly straight, although he indulges us in a little bi play for Richard’s sake – and he loves to have both of us tag-team on sucking his cock, and he enjoys cleaning me up after one or both of them have come in me, so he’s not hardcore straight. He’d likely just go with the flow.
“Then yeah, maybe I will!” What are you planning to wear?”
“I don’t know, what should I wear?”
“You could just stay in those jeans – very sexy!”
“Thank you – but you know, as tight as they are, they’re not very handicap accessible.” When he frowned, I went on, “Oh, just admit it! You two, when enough blood drains from your brains to make those big cocks functional, you both become very mentally handicapped. You’d lose fine motor control and wouldn’t be much help in getting me out of these.”
He laughed. “Valid point! Wear a skirt – short, no panties. I plan to suffer from those severe mental handicaps as much as possible.”
I liked that idea and felt myself lubricating accordingly. We spent the remaining time teasing and edging each other, a game we’ve played enough times to have become quite good at it. I touched and stroked and squeezed, taking him in my mouth often enough to keep him rigid and occasionally leaking slightly, while also fanning my own flames, the feeling of his cock in my mouth always a sensual and erotic treat.
For his part, he touched, kissed, licked, and teased, focusing his attention anywhere from my neck and ears to my nipples, my ass, and of course, my hot and horny pussy. At one point, as I was changing clothes and all naked and vulnerable, he threw me onto our bed on my back, grabbed my ankles, and held my legs up and apart while he buried his face in my sex.
He attacked, licking, sucking, devouring, and soon had me at the very brink of a massive orgasm, at which point he quit! Fucker! He stopped, completely, and pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his chin on our sheet as I lay there writhing and moaning and begging him to finish me. When I tried to do a little DIY project to finish what he’d started, unable to simply not come, he grabbed my hands and held me down until my shuddering and whimpering died down, telling me no, and that I had to be a good girl. Fuck him, I was TRYING to be a good girl, and he wouldn’t let me!
Laughing at me lying there in a fetal position after I’d stopped struggling, all twitchy and frustrated, he stood up and began to pull out clothes for me. He chose the shortest of my three denim skirts, about a mid-thigh length with a six-inch split in the back (that I may grow too old for someday soon) and a soft, flowing white knit top that tends to drape in a small fold from each of my nipples when I’m braless and they’re hard – which is to say pretty much whenever I wear it.
Groaning, I rolled over and stood up, feeling like every square inch of my skin was shooting sparks, a full-body erogenous zone which, if touched, might trigger a mind-shattering orgasm. I sat on the edge of the bed, dizzy, my head hanging, and my breathing and heartbeat fast and erratic.
He looked at me. “You okay?”
“Fuck no, I’m not okay! I need to fucking come, and you’re a fucking bastard!”
He just laughed. “Oh, is that all? Well, nobody ever died of that.”
I looked up at him. “Oh, you don’t know how close you are!”
He merely laughed again, not realizing that I was entirely serious. Then again, taking in his rock-hard cock still jutting from his zipper and his balls, which looked very large and swollen to my trained eye, and the sweet curve of his thick, veiny shaft, I realized that I could never kill anyone with a cock as gorgeous as his!
I eventually regained enough control of my body to go clean up a bit before wandering back into the bedroom to dress in the outfit he’d chosen for me. I’d paused in the bathroom doorway long enough to pin him to the doorframe, drop to my knees, and suck him back to full steel alloy hardness, stopping only when he was groaning and I could feel his cock straining and his taint – where my fingers happened to rest – throbbing. That also gave me a chance to laugh at his groans of frustration when I quit!
“So, how do you like it, pussy-tease?”
He merely uttered a soft, “Fuck…” as his cock strained.
At the foot of the bed, I slipped into the skirt and zipped it, and was sorting out the top and just pulling it over my head when he shoved me from behind, sending me sprawling face down on the bed. In a split second, he was on top of me, his knee forcing my legs apart as he pulled my skirt up, and I felt the swollen head of his cock probing at my pussy, sliding on my slippery, puffy lips as he sought entry.
It was like a guided flesh missile, unerringly finding my vagina, which was so wet, slippery, and receptive that I couldn’t have kept him out if I’d wanted to… and I truly didn’t want to! The fat, round head parted my lips and entered me, and then he was in me, and in me, and in me, and God, ohhh, fuck all the way in me as he buried himself full length in one long, hard thrust!
Unable to not receive him, I did all I could do – I cried out and thrust back against him, my pussy gripping his length, and I came, the involuntary contractions of my orgasm squeezing and milking at his cock, his balls against my wet lips and clit.
He swore. “Fuck! Stop that, or you’re going to make me come!”
“God! God, Richie, oh, I can’t! Oh my fucking God!”
“You’re coming.”
It was a flat statement – as if he’d expected me not to, somehow! “Yes, yes, I’m fucking coming. God… oh God, oh, Richard, God!”
“Don’t make me come!”
“I can’t… I can’t… I, oh… Fuck you!” I did my best to hold still, to not trigger his tsunami of cum – which I knew it would be, after the days of abstinence and the last hour-plus of intense edging – and for his part, he held very still, his cock buried full-length in my tight, wet heat as I pulsed and contracted on his shaft, my orgasm, unstoppable, running its course.
It was cheating – I was not supposed to come, we were withholding that pleasure for later – but his sudden surprise assault had hurled me off that cliff before I could even think about it, and once I was falling into the abyss, there was no turning back.
I loved everything about it – his weight on me, his warmth, his scent, his solid length fully inside of me, the way he’d simply taken me, impaling me with his manhood, and the way I’d felt every inch of him spread and open me as he went deep, my pussy eagerly conforming to his exact dimensions… But now he was telling me to hold still, to not squeeze him, to not make him come, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to feel him throbbing and spurting inside of me.
“God, Richie! I am holding still!” And I was, I think. I had my ass jammed as tightly to his groin as I could, pressing back against him to get every millimeter of cock that I could, but other than a few involuntary spasms, I was holding still.
“You’re not! Fuck… you keep twitching, and your pussy is sucking away at me still.”
I giggled breathlessly. “Richard, my pussy may be talented, but it can’t suck!”
“Well, you’re squeezing, milking me, trying to make me come.”
“Ohh, God… I’m not! That’s just orgasm contractions, involuntary, because you made me come – it’s your fault, I can’t control it.”
“Try harder!”
I did. I tried to be as still as I could – he was like a statue, frozen in position, afraid to budge lest he lose control – and while I was unable to be that still, I apparently got my runaway vagina under enough of my control that he stopped cursing me and actually laughed.
“Fuck me, I guess that was a bad idea, but your ass just looked so hot!”
“Thank you – and I think it was a great idea. Fuck, that felt sooo good!”
“To you, sure, you got to come.”
“Mmm, true. But I plan to again, many times, and very soon. If you could do that, you could just go ahead and come too.”
“I know, and as always, I’m jealous. Now, if you’ll just hold still for another thirty seconds or so, I think I can slide on out without hosing down the premises.”
I laughed, and he swore. “Fuck, don’t laugh! It makes you squeeze.”
“Don’t say anything funny. I’ll bet you could hose the place down, though, between not coming for a few days, all the edging, and now this. Can you tell if you have a big load on?”
“My balls ache, yeah, and my prostate feels like it’s the size of a volleyball, so yeah, I guess! Two gallons of cum in a half-gallon container, I think.”
I shuddered at the thought of what that was going to be like when he came, wishing again that he’d simply lose it now, inside of me, and he again swore at me to hold still. Moments later, he announced that he was going to attempt to withdraw – slowly, he said, admonishing me not to do anything clever.
He began to slowly withdraw when what I really wanted was for him to slam into me again and again while I screamed in orgasm, but his plan to go slow and easy was foiled by all three dogs suddenly lighting up, barking fiercely as we heard them hurl off the front porch and down the steps. Startled, he yanked out of me suddenly, his cock springing up against the front of his slacks as I cried out at the sudden loss, surprised that we hadn’t made a sound like a champagne cork popping out!
Over my moans, we heard tires on the gravel drive, and knew – or assumed – that James had arrived. I rolled over and sat up, looking at Richard standing there shuddering, his proud, upright cock as huge and hard as I’d ever seen it, and also, along with his ball sack, gloriously slathered with my shimmering juices. In other words, he looked delicious, but I dared not touch him!
I looked up at him. “You okay?”
He groaned. “Mmm, fuck!”
“You gonna make it?”
“I think maybe, yeah. How about you?”
“Oh, I’m good, but I came, which was amazing!”
“Yeah, you fucking cheated.” He laughed ruefully.
“I didn’t! You did it, so it’s all on you – speaking of which, there’s a lot of me on you.”
He looked down at his pussy-slick cock. “God, I love it! I’d ask you to lick me clean, but that would be disastrous.”
I laughed. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure!” I clenched and then shuddered. “Fuck, hon’, I can still feel you inside of me! It’s like my pussy has a memory and can still feel every inch, every vein, every throb of your amazing cock.” I clenched again, a late but wonderful post-orgasmic shock. “Jesus… I feel like I could sit here and think about how good you felt in me and make myself come again.”
“Rayney, goddamn. Stop it! Don’t say all that horny kind of shit you like to say to drive me crazy! This is not the time because, yes, I do think your words alone could make me lose it right now. I’m this close…” He held up his hand, his thumb and forefinger a tiny bit apart.
“Really? So just me telling you about how wonderful your big cock felt inside of me, and how hard I came, and how much I wish you’d come so that I could have felt every throb, every spasm, every spurt of your thick white cream filling me up and running out, running down my legs as you try to lick it away, you’re saying that just hearing stuff like that could make you lose control and blow your load?”
He groaned. “You think you’re funny, but you’re not! You won’t be laughing when you’re cleaning cum off the walls and ceiling, and I’m lying here on the floor, flat and empty like a deflated balloon.”
I laughed. “Or a pre-owned condom! Okay, I’ll quit. I’ve abused you enough for the moment. Shall we go greet our guest?”
He looked down at himself again. “Let me see if I can tuck this away first…” He started trying to cram himself back into his open zipper – a tough task in his condition – but I stopped him.
“No, leave it like that. You look great, and James will get a kick out of it.”
