tonyroleplays
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2013
- Posts
- 237
"Hung"
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(closed)
Robert rolled to his back and stared up at the plaster ceiling. His breathing was a bit labored from exertion, but it was nothing compared to the breathing of the euphoric woman from whom he'd just dismounted. By the time his heart beat had noticeably slowed and his breaths were almost normal, she was finally able to form words through her still erratic breathing.
"My God! That was ... unbelievable!"
Robert tilted his head to peek her direction out of the corner of his eye. He smiled with a bit of pride and responded, "Thank you."
He was preparing to return the compliment -- even though she'd been a rather so-so fuck -- but he didn't get the chance as she began, "You hear women joke about size all the time ... yes it matters, no it doesn't ... but ... oh my God...! It really does!"
Again Robert smiled with pride. It wasn't like his big cock was an accomplishment, like winning the big game or inventing the next great technology. His family jewels had come to him by the way they came to any man, large or small, so he really couldn't take any credit for his rather hefty endowment.
"How big is that thing?" she asked, rolling to her side and grasping Robert's slowly softening shaft. Gripping it tightly and stroking the wet meat, it began to harden again, despite the hour long workout it had already been through. "I mean, this is not your average cock."
"I don't know," Robert said, beginning to feel yet more pleasure from the woman's manipulation of his length. "Never measured it."
"Bull shit!" she laughed, rising to her knees as she took his huge member into both hands and stroked it with an obvious intent. "My boyfriend is a mechanic, and he can spit out specs about his tools and the cars he works on all day long. My dad's in construction and can list off the top of his head almost every nut, bolt, and screw it would take to build the Freedom Tower, describing in detail how many threads per inch they have ... how much weight they'll support. Guy's know their tools and their sizes--"
She leaned over Robert's groin and gave his now stiff-again cock a long lick right up it's sensitive underside before completing her sentence, "--be it length, girth or what ever. And this tool had both!"
Robert laughed loudly and grasped the woman by the upper arms, pulling her down upon him to kiss her. After she returned a very passionate kiss, he explained, "Well, the difference is I don't make a living with my tool like your boyfriend or father."
After they kissed a bit more and the woman maneuvered her body with a goal of mounting him, she whispered, "Well ... maybe you should."
As she grasped Robert's cock and pressed it inside her, slowly lowering with an expression of mixed pain and pleasure, "My god ... you could make some real fucking money with this monster."
Robert didn't respond immediately, instead only enjoying the feel of his shaft slipping slowly into her until he hit bottom and she grimaced a bit from the extreme intrusion. She lifted a bit, chuckling that it was too much before begin to raise and lower her body upon him. The fucking accelerated, and after she'd again orgasmed twice, then dismounted and beat Robert to his own explosion, they simply laid together and passed out for a well deserved sleep.
Three days later, he was sitting in a booth in the back of Clarissa's Cafeteria when an attractive woman stepped up and smiled down upon him. He gave her well shaped and well dressed body a quick once-over and returned the smile. "Hello."
"Hello, Robert," she responded, offering her hand.
He took it and gave her a questioning expression. "I'm sorry, but..." He laughed nervously, wondering whether he keep things simple or try to score points. He went with the latter, saying, "I don't usually forget beautiful women, but ... I'm at a loss."
She released his hand and sat across from him, saying, "We haven't met, Robert. I'm a friend of Sarah."
Robert didn't immediately place the name, not because he'd already forgotten the screaming woman he'd sent into euphoric heaven a dozen times that night but because he hadn't expected some stranger to walk up to him at lunch and drop her name. When he did realized about whom the stranger was talking, he smiled and nodded, saying only, "Yes. Sarah."
"She said I could find you here from 11:10 to 11:50, Monday to Friday."
Robert laughed, a bit embarrassed. Since he'd lost his High School Coaching job, he'd been working 7 to 4 in a corporate mail room in this very skyscraper. It was a paycheck job, one with no future and no possibility of advancement, in either position or pay. He couldn't wait to get away from it for lunch but -- since he commuted by subway an hour and a half each way from home -- he couldn't go home to eat, so he came here. He brought a sack lunch to save money but bought a juice bottle to justify occupying space in the sometimes busy cafeteria.
"I am a manager," the woman continued. When Robert asked what type of manager, she smiled and clarified without shame, "I guess you could call me a pimp."
Robert's humorous expression faded and the blood rushed from his face. Before they'd gone their separate ways that Sunday morning, Sarah had again told Robert that he should be making money with his cock and the skill with which he used it. They'd laughed about it, but because Robert thought the woman had only been joking, he'd forgotten all about it ... until now...
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