Sabrina On Her Own

He made a sound, like he had been wounded slightly, reached for my arm and pulled me onto my back. That was the first time I had actually gotten a chance to see his erection at a distance that allowed me to focus clearly. It was absolutely beautiful. I remembered from my anatomy classes that the parts of the human penis that fill with blood to cause an erection are called the Corpora Cavernosa. I only mention that because there are two of them side-by-side and on most men what you see is them working in harmony to create a single shaft. On Carson however, each half was fully developed. At full erection, his didn't look like a single erect shaft. It looked more like a double-barreled shotgun wearing a helmet. I could only guess that it had to be no less than eleven inches in length, but its girth was even more amazing. It was wide enough that as formidable as its length was it gave you the overall impression of being somewhat normal.

Carson pushed my left leg aside, and knelt between my legs. Part of my mind wanted to shout, "Hey, wait a minute!" and another part of my mind was shouting, "Oh, yeah! Bring it home, baby!" Since I was conflicted, I actually said nothing, simply waiting there as Carson put his hands on the bed beside my shoulders and slowly, gently, almost weightlessly lay down over me. His hand went between us and he guided himself to the center of my trembling slit once more. Considering the state of his arousal, he moved quite tenderly, taking his time, testing his way back inside me. At that moment it occurred to me, even though I wanted him, even though I was as ready as I was ever going to be, I was nowhere near ready to have some inexperienced young guy pounding into me with an economy-sized hard salami. I didn't sign up for having my insides fucked into tatters.

It was at that point that he surprised me once again with his skill. Unlike some men who got their instruction on intercourse from watching porn movies, he moved like an experienced lover, gently filling me to the point that it took my breath then sliding slowly back out. As he moved, the top of his penis massaged my clitoris ever so gently, providing just enough stimulation to make it stir again. He continued to move gently, having a great deal of awareness of how much I had to take with every stroke. It was no longer a trial for me. My body had adjusted fully, and I began to think, "I couldn't handle someone this large every day, but in the mood I found myself this night, knowing this was a one-time thing, this was an experience I would remember fondly for a very long time.

I realized that for the last hour, I had not been able to concentrate on anything except accommodating his appendage; it had been the focus of my every thought. Now, that I had grown somewhat comfortable with it, I was more able to concentrate on other attributes of my handsome young lover. Because of the difference in our height, I felt sheltered beneath his muscular chest. I took a moment to glance at his arms and realized for the first time how strong and well-defined his arms appeared. As I enjoyed the view above me, I began to lightly trace my fingers across his smooth skin. I felt another wave approach and as it happened, relished the exquisite feeling of being taken. I began to let go, to allow myself to enjoy, to literally be caught up in the moment as it was happening. And happening it was.

I could feel Carson swell a bit inside me, and get a little firmer. He began to kiss my face and neck slowly working way across my collarbone. As his pace quickened, and his breathing became more irregular it was obvious he wanted my breast in or at least near his mouth but couldn't reach it. I reached below my left breast, surrounded it with my hand, and lifted it toward his mouth. Still a little out of reach he reached out with his tongue and touched the nipple. The feeling was electric and delicious. Squeezing my hand tighter caused my breast to close the distance between it and his mouth. He leaned forward, took it in his soft, wide mouth and applied just the right amount of suction. This was going to be a serious orgasm, it was going to be as he was having his, and it was obvious that it was going to be impossible to derail either one.

I started to come first. And, to my surprise, I caught myself lifting my hips slightly to meet his every thrust. Even though he was being less delicate than he had been all night, it felt good, really good. My muscles started to contract - at least as much as they could -- and I nearly prayed that nothing would happen to prevent this oncoming delight. As my vaginal walls began to spasm, the effect it had on him was obvious. It was exactly the stimulation he needed to push him over the edge, and over he went. I was moaning, he was groaning, and I was certain that as our moment happened, we were going to wake someone in the hotel. However, that thought passed quickly as raised himself up with his arms, drove as much of himself into me as I could take, and fairly screamed the announcement of his ejaculation. Every penetration I endured while he came was somehow anesthetized and magnified at the same time by my own explosion. It was glorious! And even though it wasn't something I would want to attempt to cope with on a daily basis, I started to better understand that it was possible for some women to become addicted to equipment this size.

As he lay down beside me, panting for air, his hand on my breast, he was still inside me and I was still full. No amount of contractions could push his penis out. Not that I really wanted him out, but I felt I needed to get up, go to the bathroom. Whether it possible for him to continue or not, I felt the need to clean up after his rather copious ejaculation. Finally, when I realized my urges were not as important to him as they seemed to be to me, and that he was completely content to lie there gently fondling my breasts, I decided to say something. I touched his face and said, "You need to let me get up a minute, okay?"

"Why?"

"I need to... well; I just need to get up for a minute, okay?"

"Why?"

I was getting a little irritated with his impression of a two-year-old. "I need to clean up a little after all of that, alright?"

Carson just smiled, kissed my cheek, kissed my neck and replied, "Not necessary."

"I need to go freshen up a minute, Carson."

As he slipped himself from inside me, he continued kissing his way across my shoulders to my breasts and said, "No you don't, and you're fine."

In the time it took me to gather the breath and the thoughts I needed to tell him that I didn't appreciate being told what I needed, he had kissed his way across my abdomen, over my hips and was planting kisses on my pubic bone. Just as was about to say all that, his tongue gently touched my clitoris. I decided to be quiet. He continued to deliver the softest touches with his tongue, probing lower with each touch. Then he moved down on the bed, put himself between my legs, and nuzzled my tired labia with his lips. Although I was a little over-stimulated, he was so gentle that it was comfortable. In a short time, it went from comfortable to comforting, then arousing. As he continued I could feel myself stir from my core again. I had never had a man do what I finally realized he was doing. He was alternately stimulating me with his tongue and licking from my perineum to my clitoris, lovingly cleaning what he had left behind. At first I thought it a little strange, but as he continued it felt so good that I quit worrying about it. After five minutes had passed I was thinking that someone should pass a law that every man should be responsible for his own tidying in exactly this manner. Oh yes, it should be a law, yes. Just like that, uh-huh, a law, right there, what a nice idea.

It didn't take long for what I knew was inevitable. It had taken less than ten minutes for me to go from wondering what the hell he was doing to deciding that there was going to be a new custom in our house to grabbing Carson's head and wantonly crushing my pubic mound against his mouth while I came yet again.

We continued on through the night. I think each of us was waiting for the other to give up, but he was obviously as stubborn as I. Our climaxes became fewer and further apart. There was one when I was on top again, another one as he took me from behind on my hands and knees, one as he took me from behind as I lay flat on the bed on my stomach (try that with a five-inch partner - no go) and another during a mutual oral session that I would have to call a "70" position. Both of us had apparently exhausted our supply. Our sex became more relaxed more playful, but it didn't seem that either of us could stop for much more than about twenty minutes before a hand went out and touched something we wanted to fondle for a while. Fondling would prove to be fun and then, there we were, fucking again. It had been a very long time since I had packed that much sex into one night. The most bizarre event happened at the end of the evening.

I had decided that as much fun as we were having, I needed to get a couple hours sleep before my alarm went off at 8:00 a.m. for another day at the exposition. I asked Carson if he would mind me taking a shower before I got dressed to go, and he jumped up, grabbed a clean towel, handed it to me and said, "Be my guest!" opening the bathroom door for me. As I showered, my mind began to race through the events of the evening. The recollection itself was arousing, and as I lathered myself in soap I was getting turned on again. Just then I felt a rush of cold air, the sound of a shower door, and there he was behind me.

Carson reached over my shoulder and gently took the soap from my hand saying, "Here, let me help." He washed my back for me, kissing my neck whenever the thought struck him. My back, my ribs, across my hips, my legs, my feet, then finally back up to my buttocks. After he was done there, he poured a huge amount of liquid soap into his hand, reached around me and started to wash my breasts. As he did, I felt his cock, stiffening again, between my cheeks. Maybe it was a night full of lust, maybe my overconfidence, but for some reason - completely unknown to me now - I reached back and started rubbing him up against my rear opening. It felt warm and hard and delightfully slippery against my backside, and I imagine if you have been this far in this story with me, you might have guessed that I might enjoy anal sex as much as any other form. You would be correct, I do. But even though I enjoy it, and I'm quite practiced at it, what I was holding in my hand was a horse of a different color, no pun intended.

I quickly tested my opening and thought to myself, "Hell, this was going to be a breeze." I grabbed his growing member, and held it against my anus. Carson spoke softly in my ear, "Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"You like anal sex too?"

"Oh yes, I really like anal sex."

"I am so jealous of your husband in so many ways."

I just giggled a little, "That's okay Carson. Knowing my husband as I do, I'm sure he would be a little jealous of you, too. I'm guessing anal sex is okay with you too, right? I mean you don't think it's dirty or anything, do you?"

"Nothing's dirty in the shower, Sabrina."

It didn't take too long before the initial resistance subsided and I began to accept it. I don't know whether it was the amount of soap or my arousal or the relaxed state I was in, but believe me; nobody was more surprised than I when about four inches slipped in all at once. Carson was much more than I had ever encountered knocking at that particular door, and I caught myself taking short breaths, like the ones I had learned in Lamaze classes. I dropped my chin to my chest and held up my hands, my universal sign to my partners not to move a muscle. I stood there for a minute trying to cope with the fullness. I consciously worked to relax it, and every other muscle in my body that had reacted to the initial intake. The moment I felt it possible I reached behind myself grabbed Carson's buttocks and pulled him gently toward me.

He began moving ever so gently, and the passion and stimulation started to overrun my senses. I reached up, grabbed the high towel bar in the shower, and pushed back toward him. Carson moved with long, excruciatingly slow strokes. When he pushed in as far as I could stand, I reached back and grabbed his cock. There was still enough shaft outside my body to wrap my hand around, and I did. For a while, that worked. It worked to let Carson push in as far as he could, and kept me from trying to take more than I could handle. The combination of the hot water, the steam, the soap, bare skin and being taken in this fashion all worked together like a perfectly arranged symphony of pleasures. It stopped working when I realized that I had one hand on the towel bar, one hand on his cock, and I needed a third hand to tend to my aching clitoris. It was a quandary.

I decided to have some faith and let go of the towel bar. Attempting to recall how many times Carson had come during the evening, I was almost certain this would be for my amusement not his. I felt quite certain that, in spite of his youth, he was finished for the night. As I thought that, however, I had misgivings as I felt him swell in my backside. He was obviously working toward another orgasm. So was I. My entire body felt flushed. This type of stimulation was also so completely different from vaginal sex. Carson was beginning to get more forceful, placing one hand on my shoulder and the other on my left breast. It was obvious that at least my breast was going to come out of this shower very clean. However, although my mind was receiving a great treat, it became apparent my body was completely fucked out. It felt great, I was not responding to this stimulation as usual. I was almost going to say, ""This is not happening for me," when I felt some enthusiasm behind me."Oh, really!" I thought to myself. "Well, if you're going to get excited I'm going to do what I can do to help you out."

I squeezed my thighs together, contracted my sphincter muscle as much as I could stand. Carson obviously felt the effect and quickened his pace. I tightened up a bit more and he started to go wild. This was amazing. He held me tight, tight enough to make it difficult to breathe. He continued to grow inside me. He began to lose the gentleness he had exhibited all night. Apparently, taking me this way put him in a different mindset. I leaned my head back toward his ear and asked, "Are you going to come again?"

"Oh, yes. Oh, God yes!" He began to push much harder, and soon, his excitement excited me!

I began to egg him on: "Come on big boy, fuck me. Fuck my ass. Push that big cock home!" I squeezed my thighs together. He was so long that I could stand up straight, hug his cock with my ass cheeks, and he could still deliver all I could handle. It felt wonderful. And just as that thought crossed my mind, he began to explode. He came with such vigor that I had to stand on my tip-toes and grab the towel bar again to keep my balance. It was so erotic, so strange. Since I was less involved in my own passion, more of an observer than I have ever been before, I listened and observed and watched as this beautiful young man lost his mind.

After he had finished and started to catch his breath, he became very gentle and loving. Without a word he washed me again from head to toe, turned off the water, patted me dry with a big fluffy towel and hugged me. "You okay?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm more than okay, Carson."

"I can't tell you what this evening meant to me, and as much as I have lusted after you all this time, I never imagined that you were such a great lover."

"Well, thank you. You were a bit of surprise yourself."

"Thanks. I tried."

Just as he was saying that, I looked over my shoulder and saw the red glaring numbers of the hotel room clock shouting that it was 7:45. "Holy shit! I've got to go! I have to look presentable and be in a conference in an hour!"

I dropped the towel, grabbed my clothes, and threw on just the amount of clothing necessary to get to my room without getting arrested. As I headed for the door, Carson met me and leaned down to kiss me goodbye. "Sabrina, this was incredible. Can I be bold enough to ask you what you're doing tonight?"

I knew this was coming, I dreaded this part. I looked up into his face and started, "Carson, this night was wonderful. I will never forget it, and I enjoyed every minute of it. But this was a one-time thing. There's no a relationship here. I have a relationship with my husband, a really good one. Tonight I'll be taking care of business, tomorrow I'll be going home. Next month you'll be leaving the company and this will never be repeated. Do you understand all that?"

"I'm not sure I understand anything about all this."

"Well, it's important that you try. Listen, I have to go."

"Okay, well have a great day."

"You too, sweetie. We'll talk about this later if you need to, but I've got to go."

"Okay."

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and headed toward my room. As soon as I got safely back inside the room and closed the door, I called Mark.

He answered, "Good morning, my love. Did you have fun or did you sleep well last night?"

"I didn't sleep at all."

"Really? Oh please, tell me more!"

"I would love to honey, but honestly, I am going to be late for my first conference if I don't get my ass in gear right now. I just wanted to call and tell you I was back in my room, I had a great time, I was treated very sweetly, and to thank you for last night."

"You had a good time?"

"I had a good time."

"I can't wait to hear the details! You didn't lose yourself and forget everything that happened, did you?"

I laughed, because that has happened before and it makes my husband crazy! "No, my love, I pretty much remember everything that happened. I wish I had time to tell you now, but I really don't. All I want to say is had a great time, it was a really unique experience, and I love you for giving me the chance to explore so openly. I fact I love you so much, I am planning a special gift for you."

"I love gifts from you! What is it?"

"When I leave here tomorrow, and I get on the plane, I'm going to take my laptop out and use the entire plane trip to write every detail down for you, so you can read it word for word, blow by blow when I get home. Then if you want to, you can post it on some website and let everyone in the world know about my first solo adventure. How's that?"

"Sounds wonderful! I can't wait to read it!"

"Well, that's what I'll do then, just because I love you so much."

"I love you, too." There was a brief pause, then the question I knew he couldn't resist asking, "So I'll wait until you get your story finished, but I have to know one thing. Was this size thing for real I mean, was it worthy of a warning?"

I had a brief argument with myself whether to be completely forthcoming on this question, carefully guard my dear husband's ego, or let him wait until I was finished with the story. I decided to be a little teasing, and let him have some fun for today. "Okay, Mark. It was large. It was very nicely shaped, and Carson knew what to do with it; a pretty nice combination all in all." "Here it comes," I thought to myself.

"How large is large?"

"Okay, I'll tell you, but then I have to go, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go to the refrigerator, my love. Get two of those eight ounce cans of Red Bull. Put one on top of the other, and you pretty much have a fair comparison."

There was a short pause, then Mark replied, "Are you serious?"

"Yes, there may be some differences here and there, but if you do that, you'll pretty much have a fair idea."