tagNovels and NovellasConfessions of a Rust Belt Swinger 11

Confessions of a Rust Belt Swinger 11

byQuazarMachismo©

Note: This stand-alone story is part of our continuing adventures in swinging. I hope that you find at least some of these stories humorous.

Chapter 11: Sweaty Guy

A big cock.

Everyone seems to be infatuated with a big cock. A large rod. A huge pecker. A giant penis.

Especially swingers.

Why is that? I mean, lots of studies by respected scientists (well, sex researchers. They're respected scientists though, aren't they?) have collected gobs of data (ha! gobs) that women are no more sexually satisfied by an above average penis then they are by an average sized penis.

Screw that.

Big cocks!

Everyone wants 'em! Size matters. At least, that's what porn teaches us.

Mmmmmm, porn!

Swinger sites are filled with pictures of guys with huge dongs. No face pics. Just these giant logs of flesh. But, some women must want them, right? Why else would guys keep posting the pics? And some women and couples on swinger sites demand that single guys have enormous schlongs if they want to play with that couple.

So. Like I said. Everybody wants big cocks!

We were contacted one time by a couple that we had played with in the past, Chris and Lori. We had gotten together with them and swapped. Just some good old fashioned fucking. Although, I don't think Anne was all that blown away by Chris. I think he, um, inserted tab A into Slot B and *BANG* All done! Like I said, not too overwhelming. I mean, it wasn't a horrible experience. Just nothing to write home about. If you were, um, gonna write home about fucking some guy.

Anyway, they e-mailed me to say that they wanted to get together again and that this time they had another guy that they wanted to bring.

And he had a big cock.

A big cock?

Singly guy?

Interesting.

Anne and I were traveling into uncharted territory. Like Lewis and Clark. But with more sex and less outdoors stuff. Ok, I mean, we had gotten together with that single guy at the club a while ago. But, I don't recall if he had an especially large, uh, member. And Anne didn't seem to remember any differently. So, now we had the chance to get together with a dude with a big dong. If Chris and Lori said it was larger than normal, we had no reason not to believe them.

Anyway, Anne was into it, so we planned to meet them one night at a restaurant and see where it went from there. I mean, Anne wasn't like, "Oh my god!!! I gotta have that big sausage stuffed inside me!!!!" It was more like, "Yeah sure. Why not." So, with that ringing endorsement, we made plans to meet. At a local chicken-wing place.

Mmmmmm, wings and swapping. Like pork chops and apple sauce. Well, with more natural juices! Anne and I got to the restaurant and found them pretty quickly. After saying our hellos to Chris and Lori, they introduced us to John over a nice medium-hot wing sauce and some blue cheese.

One piece of advice? Never get the really hot sauce. Imagine if you ate them and then rubbed your hands on places, where, um, hot sauce was never meant to go?

Yikes!

A pilot.

It seems that John was a pilot.

A pilot with a big cock.

Well, ok, you couldn't tell that in the restaurant. He was wearing pants and all. But he was tall. Somewhere over six feet. And he seemed nice enough. But nothing in particular stood out about him. I mean, he was just kind of there. Maybe it would have been better if he did have his cock out in the restaurant. "Whoa! Watch out there buddy! That thing could poke an eye out!!!" At least that would have been memorable. So, we chatted. We ate. We didn't talk directly about the giant meat missile lurking under the table. But it was there. We all knew it. Lurking. Under the table.

After finishing up, we decided to head over to a motel not too far from the restaurant to get a room. I remember rubbing my own cock in my pants on the drive over. I was hoping to chub up a bit before we got there. After all, we were going to see a BIG COCK.

"Ok, my little friend. Wait, did I say little? You're not little. I did NOT mean to say little. You're the man! A big man with a cool helmet. You hear me BIG guy?? Standing up strong and erect! You've never let me down before. Facing all battles and challenges with the utmost of grace and aplomb! You hear me my friend? Aplomb! We've been through a lot together, you and me. We've had our ups and downs. But, now? Now my friend, you've been called up to the big leagues. The real thing. The majors. I don't want you to be intimidated. You just play your game, and you'll do just fine. Just remember, don't try to do anything crazy. Stick with the game plan. In and out. In and out. You got me? No wild moves out there. No swirls or shakes or anything like that. Just the stuff that you're known for. None of that Wild Thing crap. You're better than that. Ok, big guy? You with me? Awesome. Now, break on three. One, two, three BREAK!"

"Why are you rubbing your pants?" Anne was staring at me like I was nuts.

"Um, ah, cramp?"

I don't think she believed me. Oh well. I smiled and gave my now pleasantly plumped up friend a quick pat and we headed into the hotel to meet up with the others.

It was a little odd. I was used to Anne pairing up with the other guy and me pairing up with the other woman. Now, we had an extra guy to add to the mix. Where would he go? How would he fit in? Would he even fit? Hmmmmm.

I think the whole thing started with John the pilot with Lori and Chris and me with Anne. We were doing typical stuff, you know, kissing and licking and sucking. It was weird because Chris and I each kind of staked out areas of Anne's body and stayed within those areas.

"I claim this left tit for the Kingdom of Ericland!!! This is now and forevermore Eric's left tit!"

As Chris and I carved up Anne's body like a pair of hungry European expansionists, John and Lori were going at it on the bed. I wasn't really paying too much attention to their action, but I did hear her moaning loudly. A lot. I tried to remain focused on pleasuring my wife, but it was hard for my mind not to wander.

Perhaps there really is something to this big cock thing? Maybe she's really getting off on it? Maybe all of those cheesy porn movies and badly written Penthouse letters are actually correct?

Or perhaps just the IDEA of fucking a big cock is what does it? The sensations don't feel much different, but the eroticism and fantasy of the experience make it absolutely mind-blowing?

Eh.

Whatever.

Lori was having a field day fucking the dude with a big cock. Now, granted, Chris and I were doing what we could with Anne. She seemed to enjoy it. He seemed to enjoy it. I was licking away merrily on my claimed breast. But, it was like we were all simply waiting. Marking time until Anne could have her own turn on the big shiny new toy. And, after cumming more than a few times, Lori got off the ride and asked Anne if she wanted a turn. John was stripping off the condom as Lori and Anne changed places. Hell, it was more like a garbage bag. Holy shit. When the fuck did Hefty start making condoms?

Then Anne got onto the bed by John. Ready to rock and roll. Ready to fuck the oversize organ.

Did I want her to? Did I have a choice? What if she liked it? I mean, what if she REALLY liked it? Liked it like a junkie trying heroin for the first time liked it? I was a bit unnerved. Scared. But curious as hell about the whole thing. I got together with Lori at about the same time that Anne moved over on the bed to be with John. The pilot. With the big cock. Chris was taking a breather.

We ended up being right next to each other on the king-sized bed. Me and Lori. Anne and the big cock. This gave me my chance. I finally got a chance to look at it.

The cock.

The big cock.

You know what? It was fucking big. Really. HOLY FUCKING MOLY! I mean, I've seen porn cocks and all, but this was the real thing. Live and in the flesh.

Ha! In the flesh.

And it was pretty darn impressive. Then I thought about Anne. Would he hurt her? Could she take it all? Did she want to take it all? It was like a giant fleshy telephone pole. Covered in a garbage bag condom. All very impressive looking.

You know what? My own little helmeted buddy didn't really like this whole thought process of mine.

He, um, took his toys and, ah, went home. Not such a rigid and stand-up guy anymore.

"Hey, where are you going pal? What about the game plan? What about the whole in and out thing? What about. . ." Ah screw it. It just wasn't happening. I kind of looked at Lori. She knew it too. She knew that I was curious about what Anne's turn on the giant beef jerky was gonna be like. So, we kind of moved apart a bit and I watched. Lori watched. I'm pretty sure Chris was watching too.

John got on top of her. They started going at it. Well, more to the point, he started going at it. He was a machine. A pumping machine of penis flesh.

He must have been a machine.

An overheating machine.

You know why? Because the dude was sweating up a storm. What? I mean, I know we all sweat when we fuck. Who doesn't? But damn, this guy wasn't just sweating.

He was dripping.

Like, "Dude, I just ran fifteen miles in ninety-degree heat!" kind of dripping.

Ew.

I watched him piston in and out of Anne. It would have been super erotic. . . If it didn't look like her head was under a water spigot.

In the middle of the action, she actually rolled him over and got on top of him to fuck. I think she signaled for a towel at one point.

Towel?

She needed like a full-body electric dryer.

Ew. Did I say that already?

Ew.

So, she fucked him. She was sliding all around on his big sweaty body. It looked like she was fucking a human slip and slide.

With a big dong.

Did she cum? Yes.

Did she enjoy a big cock? I believe that she did.

But, when we talk about this experience years later, it's not us sitting around remembering John with the big cock. Its, "Hey, remember sweaty guy?"

So, he had a big cock.

No sweat.

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