Olivia

"You gotta breathe through your nose," she smiled, but I lifted her cock up to show her the thick 10 inch monolith now proudly thrusting up from her short bush.

"There's no way I can breathe past this monster down there, baby!" I exclaimed. "God, I love your cock! It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!" I plunged back down, feeling her slide down my throat deeper than I thought possible. The hard heat of her thick cock in my throat was the center of my world, completely blocking off my airway, making it impossible even to swallow. How something so huge and powerful could grow from the tiny little fingerling I'd first sucked into my mouth simply amazed me. I was worshipping this majestic beast, impaling myself on it, willing to die for the intense pleasure it was bringing me. I alternated between plunging down on her cock, holding her deep in my throat til I was almost unconscious, then pulling off to gasp enough air to clear my head again.

"I need you deeper in me baby," I said. "I gotta take you all the way inside. I gotta have your balls in my mouth with your cock in my belly. But I've got dry mouth from the weed and I feel like my throat is sandpaper on your beautiful cock. I can't even swallow when I pull off you. I need to go get some water."

Olivia got up slowly, looking at me with heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes, and nodded. "I'll get you some, luv. You wait here." She pulled her tight jeans on over her thick thighs and full ass. I had no clue how she could get them zipped over that huge monster lurking between her legs. She went out, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her.

I sat on the bed in silence, staring blankly at the bare wall. Nothing in my life experience had prepared me for this. I had never seriously questioned my heterosexuality, had never been attracted to a man's cock in 8 years of locker-room nudity during school, or through an active adult sex life with more than a few gay come-ons. Now here I was, worshipping a huge black cock, the stereotypical size queen faggot. Who was I? Was I gay? Would I love her cock if she was a man?

Then my frenetic thoughts jumped to STDs. I knew the chance of HIV transmission from oral sex was, though not impossible, extremely remote, and I'd already had her in my mouth long enough (I smiled at the unintended pun) that if she was shedding HSV or HPV I'd already have caught it. My mind couldn't begin to comprehend the permutations of the health risk.

As I heard her footsteps approaching the door my thoughts turned again to her. How had she managed this sexual transition in the midst of her brutal life? What kind of hell had she gone through with her parents, with her school peers, what ridicule, harassment and physical abuse had she put up with to get to this point? How did she have the strength to pull herself out of that, to live true to who she was, while caring for her brother and keeping him safe? She was so full of life, and love, seemingly unspoiled by everything that had gone before. I couldn't fathom the strength it had taken to get her to this point without being destroyed.

And then... "Men like you, Papi." Yeah. That was huge. Men like me. When I thought of the men she must have been with I was ashamed of myself. So I was like that. What part was I playing in this? Why did she like older white men? Were we more likely to have money, or be more willing to pay for sex? Was she recreating a traumatic scene with an older white man from her childhood that had started her on this journey? Was I driving her further into being trapped in a sex-for-hire nightmare, or in some way helping heal the hurt she'd been dealing with her whole life?

The door opened and she stepped in, closing it behind her. "Trey's asleep out there. We won't wake him now." I looked at her closely, trying to find signs that I must have missed in the bar, the car and out in the living room that she wasn't born a biological female. In the 100-watt bare-bulb glare of the small bedroom I could see what I thought was the faint beginning of 5-o'clock shadow (oh, yeah, the rougher skin of her cheeks and jaw...) but otherwise her features were flawlessly female, tall and large-framed, but all woman. Her hands were slender with long fingers, her flared waist showed a woman's hips, her muscular legs were killer perfect, silky, smooth, leading up to that full, firm ass that tasted and felt so good. Her face grew more beautiful each time I looked at her: large almond eyes, strong nose with high cheekbones, full lips that smiled easily, pearly teeth. She was everything I found beautiful in a woman regardless of what was between her legs. If anything, because of that beautiful piece of God's handiwork between her legs. Why didn't all women have cocks? I'd never wanted anything more in my life.

She handed me a full glass. "Kiwi-Strawberry ok, Papi?" I took the glass and, watching her still-full but now-flaccid cock spring free as she peeled her jeans off, drank slowly, trying to coat my mouth and throat so I could take all the cock she could possibly force into my mouth. I sat the empty glass on her small dresser and climbed back onto the bed, lying the way I'd seen women in porn movies lie, with my head half over the side of the bed to create a straight shot from my lips to my stomach.

"Let me have that beautiful cock in my mouth, baby," I groaned. "Give it all to me." As I spoke I was startled that I was "talking dirty." I'd never liked talking during sex. As a normally quiet man, sex talk seemed forced and artificial beyond a few whispered words of love. But now I was begging, pleading, I'd become the women who'd annoyed me by chattering in the middle of otherwise good sex. But I was beyond humiliation, I'd do anything to get that beautiful cock back down my throat, to feel it forcing my throat open beyond anything I'd ever dreamed possible.

Olivia held the tip of her cock to my mouth, rubbing it on my lips teasingly, making me strain to reach it with my tongue. Her balls were dragging across my forehead as she taunted me with her cock. In this position I could see every vein in that gorgeous shaft. I was mesmerized by the shape: instead of a fairly constant thickness from base to frenulum with an enlarged head, her cock tapered from a fairly small head, perhaps an inch in diameter, to a thick root about 3" in diameter where it met her pubis; there was no way my hand could fit around that thick base. "No wonder my teeth are scraping it!" I marveled, "She's got a frickin log growing out of her crotch."

Incredibly, as I licked and sucked the sensitive head, the object of my passion grew even longer and thicker. "Baby, oh God... oh Goddess, my Goddess!! Please fuck my throat with that gorgeous thing!" I babbled frantically. She thrust hard and fast, and the entire shaft slid down my throat so her balls were sitting on my lips. I'd never felt so full, and I knew my throat was ruined; there was no way there was anything left after she'd ripped it apart.

She held her cock in my throat while she stroked and sucked my rock hard cock, so pathetic in comparison to her majestic spear. When she sensed me tensing with suffocation, she pulled out enough that I could gasp a quick breath, then plunged back into me, impossibly deep, holding my entire body captive with her cock, as on a spit, while she worked mine over. My whole consciousness was centered on her cock in my throat, her ministrations on my own seemed inconsequential: I only existed to serve her pleasure, to make her cum, to pull that sweet white cream out of her low-hanging balls into my stomach; my own orgasm wouldn't be complete without feeling her explode in me.

When she pulled out again I gasped, "Please baby come in me. Please baby I need you to come. Please let me taste your come. Please drown me baby." In the dim recesses of my consciousness, my rational mind was sitting back laughing uproariously at the idiot I'd been reduced to. I'd never talked like this in my life. I'd never completely disregarded my personal health and safety for the sake of sex, but I was in the clutches of something far greater than I'd ever encountered. My entire world had been reduced to 3 things: her huge cock, her cum, and my need to have her feed it to me.

She thrust a few more times, then pulled out and climbed up on the bed beside me. I was gasping for breath while pleading with her to come in me. She laughed quietly and replied, "Papi, we haven't even started yet."

I heard rustling, and saw her break open a box and pull out a condom packet marked MagnumXL. "Yeah. No shit." I thought. There'd be no way a condom that fit me would ever roll onto that behemoth in front of my eyes. She rolled it on, it covered about 2/3 of her cock before the roll was used up. She flipped me around on the bed so my head was at the foot and my legs were on either side of her. She pulled my knees up over her hips, gave me an evil grin and held up a jar of Vaseline. "Showtime, Papi!"

I knew there was going to be some pain involved here, but I thought, "My throat's still functional and there's cartilage there. My asshole should be much more forgiving." Nonetheless, I knew the girth of her cock was far beyond anything that had ever passed in or out of my ass. I burst out laughing as a paraphrase of Eliot's "The Waste Land" popped into my head. "I will show you fear in a handful of lube." "Give it to me, sweetheart," I smiled. "Give it all to me. Make me your bitch."

She picked me up by my hips and slid her muscular thighs underneath my ass. "Oh, you already my bitch, Papi! You were my bitch before you even saw me. I'm just gonna remove all doubt from your mind about who owns this ass."

True to her earlier word, she was gentle with me. At first. She spread the lube around my ass, then into my tight pucker, gently coating me inside and out. The feeling of her slender fingers caressing my ass had my cock twitching like a puppet. She slowly lowered me onto her cock, so I could feel the small head pressing against my hole, then she smiled at me. "You ready?" I nodded, and she laughed loudly. "No, you ain't. You think you ready cause you don't know what's comin'."

Oh, my God, was she right. I'd had anal sex with a few women, but all I had to compare in my experience was my own entirely inconsequential cock, that was about the length and girth of a moderate turd that anyone could pass easily. She slid in surprisingly easily, and my ring popped tight around her head. I felt full, so complete. But her entire magnificent cock, other than the head, was still outside, awaiting entry. I started to hum with pleasure. She began to push into me, and as the pressure increased my fullness increased, and the pain, slight at first, intensified. My hum turned to a moan, then to a groan, then to a scream. The non-stop "ohmygodohmygodohmygod" that I'd found so grating in some women I'd fucked was now coming out of my own mouth at far greater volume than I'd ever heard in a bedroom before.

By the time her hard pubis was pressed against my coccyx, my head was thrashing back and forth with such force I feared a concussion or whiplash, my hands were ripping the sheets, and my eyes squeezed shut tight to keep my eyeballs from popping out of their sockets. Eventually the pressure began to subside, and I looked up at her. She was looking at me with such tenderness I burst into tears. I'd never felt such gratitude to anyone for causing me such pain. "You all right honey?" she asked, and I nodded, grabbing her hands and kissing them, wrapping my legs around her waist to hold her deep inside me.

I really tried to be somewhat in control of the throes of my passion but I was beyond any concept of propriety. As my ass, colon and intestines began to adjust to their new mistress, my prostate started sending out its own moans of delight, and my incessant babbling started all over. I started humping myself up and down on her cock, begging her to come inside me, pleading with her to fuck my brains out, telling her how much I loved her, how I'd never loved anyone like I loved her, that she'd changed my life forever, that I was her slave for eternity, that she was my queen, my goddess, my life, my existence.

All in all, I was not a model of decorum.

She settled into a steady rhythm, driving my guts farther up into my ribcage, and I kept begging for more. She began fucking harder and faster, putting her hands on my chest to steady herself, and the relentless motion, pressure, pain and intense pleasure radiating from my prostate sent me even deeper into delirium. I recall grabbing her hands and wrapping them around my throat, begging her to choke me; I'm still not sure whether I wanted to try erotic asphyxiation or whether I wanted to die in a divine state of spiritual ecstasy.

When I finally came back to some semblance of consciousness, she was standing beside the bed, removing her condom. I smiled weakly at her. "Hey," I croaked, "Thank you."

Olivia smiled gently at me. "Hey, luv. Did you have a good time?"

I groaned. "Oh, my god, baby. I'm ruined for anyone else. I've never felt anything close to this." She stoked my hair gently, and stood quietly while I came back to earth and began to be able to move. I got up, wrapped her up in a big hug, and tried to kiss her. She dropped her head, avoiding the kiss, and hugged me gently but released me almost immediately.

The clear signal was that we were done, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life with either my throat or my ass impaled on her cock. "Baby, I want to stay here and make love until you kick me out," I suggested hopefully, but her reaction was a quiet smile. I watched her pull on her panties, then her jeans. "Should I go?" I asked, and she nodded without looking at me.

I slowly gathered my clothes, and began to dress. She was taking care not to make eye contact and had withdrawn into herself. We chatted aimlessly, she solicitously trying to make sure I'd had a good time, I trying to gauge whether this was a one-off or whether we'd ever be able to get together again. When I was dressed she opened the bedroom door and we went out to the living room where Trey was sleeping soundly on the chair where I'd laid my coat. I shook him gently, enough to get him to stir so I could pull my coat from under him, then I turned to her as I put it on.

"I meant what I said when I told you I love you, sweetheart. You never need to do anything for me, I just love you. You're so beautiful, and I'm so glad we got to spend the evening together. If I'm ever down this way again, I'd love to spend more time with you."

She hugged me close, a genuinely affectionate hug this time, and simply said, "I'd like that."

She opened the door, and I stepped out into the cold night. I turned slightly toward her as the lock clicked shut, then walked slowly to my car.