Frieda the CatbyMathGirl©
At the age of seventeen, Jack Vincent had experienced a growth spurt during which he gained about five inches in height in four months. This is not an uncommon phenomenon in boys, but in Jack's case his skeletal growth was accompanied by an even more spectacular increase in the size of his genitalia. Jack's dick became a <<<***DICK***>>>.
Jack had a group of friends with whom he had grown up, and they were quick to notice the change in their pal's ... equipment in the showers after gym. When his buddy Lenny Ginsburg saw the phenomenal change, he said that Jack's wee wee had turned into a veritable schlong. Another of the guys cautioned Jack to be careful not to get an erection while driving. All the blood rushing to a pecker that size might result in lack of circulation to the brain and cause him to faint. Some of the guys teased him, calling him "Big Banana," or "Horsecock," and a Chicano friend had nicknamed him El Tulungo.
Jack had awakened one morning with an erection and measured it on his way to the bathroom. His attempt was futile, though, because his penis was somewhat longer than the ruler. He had to piss too badly to hunt for a yardstick.
He had a normal adolescent interest in sex, which is to say that he jacked off incessantly. His dick had gotten so big that he could hold it with both hands like a baseball bat and the head was still exposed; even if he choked up.
Jack thought of his outsized joint as an annoyance, because his Jockeys always felt too tight, the guys teased him about it, and it was hard to hide the bulge in his jeans even when his dick was flaccid. After all, he thought, what good is having a schlong if all you do it piss through it and whack it off? An average sized dick would work just as well for those things, and it would be a whole lot more comfortable and convenient to wear around. It wouldn't be the subject of jokes in the gym showers, either.
Jack soon learned that his economy sized appendage was more than just inconvenient, it could be downright embarrassing. One morning in English class the lecture was very boring. Jack had tuned out the teacher to concentrate on an erotic daydream featuring himself with several unclothed teenage beauties in the girls' locker room.
When the bell rang to end the class, Jack found that he had grown that bane of all healthy teenaged boys; an unintended, unwanted spontaneous erection. It's one thing for the average high schooler to get a stiffy in class, but the boner Jack had germinated in his pants was something else entirely. An unknowing observer might have thought that the lad was concealing a fat submarine sandwich in his jeans.
Since his next class was clear across campus, Jack couldn't just sit there and wait for his recalcitrant rod to deflate. The best he could do was to hold his binder in front of himself when he stood up. This was awkward, but it beat walking around looking like he had a jumbo zuccini in his trousers.
During his eventful senior year in high school, Jack met the lovely Miss Cheri Owens, and they became sweethearts. They exchanged class rings, went everywhere together, and shared some passionate presex education in the backseats of cars parked in orange groves.
Cheri was a strict not-below-my-waist sort of girl, but she was an enthusiastic kisser and even allowed Jack to fondle her breasts on occasion. Cheri may not have been quite beautiful and slightly overweight, but she had an ..... outstanding set of knockers.
On one occasion, Cheri let Jack unclasp her bra, and he would never forget his first feel of those warm, plump boobies. Did Madame Thumb and her four lovely daughters ever get a workout after that! Jack would lie in bed with the image of Cheri's firm, smooth titties in his mind and choke his jumbo sized gopher until it was raw.
After several months of dating, Jack had persuaded Cheri that jerking him off would be neither a ..... stain on her virginity or a mortal sin, and she was nice enough to treat him to a weekly handjob in the back seat of his father's Oldsmobile. After twice having only feeble lies for her mother about the dried spatters on her clothing, the fastidious Cheri started carrying a wad of Kleenex in her purse on Saturday evening dates. She became adroit in the use of these tissues at .... crucial moments, thereby preventing unwanted deposits on their clothing or the headliner of the Vincent family sedan.
Since Jack's was the only penis she had ever seen or handled, Cheri naturally assumed that a fat fourteen inches was about average for a man. After high school, Cheri and Jack went off to different colleges, and their romance gradually faded away. When Cheri was a junior, a date got her drunk, and she lost her virginity.
After that, Cheri became somewhat sexually active and sampled the wares of several college men. Until about her fourth or fifth lover, she thought she had been coincidentally picking men with abnormally small genitalia. Only after conversations with other coeds in her dormitory did Cheri realize that the dick she had handled so well and so often in high school was, in fact, one in a million.
As a college freshman, the eighteen year old Jack Vincent, in the company of several friends, attended his first pornographic movie at a XXX theater. This was in the days before VCRs became available, and the only way to watch a dirty movie was to go to a run down, extremely dark theater, most of whose patrons wore raincoats regardless of the weather.
During that era, the male star of the porno movie industry was one John "Johnny Wadd" Holmes. Mr Holmes wielded an enormous uncircumcised penis through literally hundreds of blue movies, to the delight and sometimes discomfort of his leading ladies. Jack was unimpressed with Holmes' equipment, though, because he had a penis just as large right there in his own pants. What's more, Jack was well built and rather nice looking, whereas Holmes was skinny and butt ugly.
After the movie his fellow theatergoers were speaking in wonderment about the size of the actor's dick. Jack, in a moment of uncharacteristic immodesty, mentioned that he didn't think there was anything special about it. He was the owner-operator of a specimen at least as large as the one they had seen on the screen. Doubts were voiced and bets were offered as Jack's companions called his bluff. One thing led to another, and Jack had no choice but to ..... expose himself in the back seat of a 1971 Chevy.
One glance sufficed to show the movie fans that Jack hadn't been bluffing at all. His friends were both aghast and impressed at the size of his tool, and he pocketed a tidy sum when the bets were paid. Needless to say, Jack was held in much esteem among his peers.
Once the girlfriend of one of the theatergoers greeted Jack on campus by giggling and saying, "Hi, Horsie," so he knew that word of his endowment had spread. This caused him no small embarrassment, and he wished he had kept his thoughts and his pecker to himself in the back seat of that Chevy.
Jack had an excellent academic record in college, but his romantic life during that period was less gratifying. Being a handsome and personable young man, he dated numerous attractive coeds, and he even became serious about several of them. None of these relationships came to their expected ... climax, however.
At first in parked cars and later in his modest student apartment, Jack had managed to remove the clothing of several of these young ladies, their willingness often enhanced by cheap wine. At the critical moment when Jack's erect organ was displayed for the first time to the eager coeds, exclamations such as, "Oh, my God!," "Not with that thing, you're not!," or "How about a nice handjob?" would be heard.
Sadly, at twenty testosterone-fueled years of age, Jack Vincent remained a virgin.
On one slow, dateless Saturday night at the fraternity house, Jack and several of his friends got themselves drunk on Bullseye beer ($1.59 a case in those days).
Bullseye was known on the campus to be a dangerous substance, because even moderate amounts of the brew had unfortunate effects on the undergraduate physiology. Excessive consumption of the improperly aged beer often lead to projectile diarrhea lasting three to four days, a syndrome known on campus as the "Bullseye Thin Dirties." The accompanying hangover was of equal duration and severity and made the suffering caused by unpredictable bowels just that much more miserable. Innumerable student class-days had been lost to the malady.
The only thing attractive about Bullseye was its price, and it was undeniably cheap. Yes, Bullseye beer had a well deserved reputation on campus, and only scholarship athletes were stupid enough to drink it more than once.
On the night in question, an inebriated Jack had bemoaned to his fraternity brothers the fact that he remained virgo intacto at what he considered an advanced age. Being sympathetic to Jack's situation, his buddies (of whom three of the four were virgins themselves but lied about it) pooled their funds and offered to treat him to a visit to a bordello.
Jack didn't know what a bordello was, thinking vaguely that it was probably some sort of amusement park. He was sufficiently intoxicated to try anything, though, and he eagerly accepted the invitation. The five young men piled into the Chevy, drove unsteadily to the seedy part of the city, and trooped noisily into the only whorehouse in the area. The place was so disreputable that it was shunned even by cops who could have gotten freebies. The establishment was incongrously housed in a building above a gay bar. Jack was too excited to notice that the joint didn't have a merry-go-round or bumper cars.
The collegians were greeted at the door by the portly madam, Ms Rosemary Palm. The rotund lady from Texas was a veteran of all phases of the negotiable affection game, having been a call girl, street walker, and bordello whore before assuming her management duties.
Rosie's first experience in her chosen profession had happened many years earlier at a rest home for aged chiropractors. The young Ms Palm had been employed as a nursing assistant and drool wiper on the night shift. The job at the rest home had proven quite lucrative, though, because she took advantage of offers presented and became a specialist in the administration of covert nocturnal hand jobs to the geriatric residents of the facility.
The elderly patients had little else to spend their pension money on, and they were quite appreciative of Ms Palm's attentions. The fact that they usually fell asleep before even attaining erection had made the job less stressful for both parties.
As Rosie once remarked, "Shoot, em ole fahts gimme a twenny up front and bout all I does is hold they limp dick til they starts asnorin. Inna moanin I tellsem what dandy boners theys had the naight befo an whut studs they is, an sometime they slips me twenny mo. Sho a lot easier'n nokkin onna doors at the Mo-tel 6 to see iffun ennabody wanna buy hiseff a blowjawb."
"Em ol muffugas'll surprise ya, though. Onest this ol man ha me face down on the baid wit ma pannies down afore Ah knowed whattus hapnin'. Gimme a twenny later en compulmenned me on havin sech a taight pussy fer a nee-gro gal. Sheeiiiit, thet ole bassar hed it up the wrong hole, an' I'us jist bin aclenchin' fer all I'us wuth."
Ms Palm's employment at the home had been abruptly terminated when one of the residents bragged to his visiting granddaughter about, "The nee-gro gal what jacks me off a coupla times a week."
Alas, years and pounds (two hundred and five of them on her five foot one inch frame) had taken their toll, and Ms Palm had retired from active participation in the profession. She became a highly successful madam, however, and enjoyed the prestige that accompanied her executive position.
Having been informed of Jack's delicate condition (virginity), the ever helpful Rosie promised that his celibate days were over. She assigned his case to Ms Elizabeth "Long Liz" Maddux, a six foot two inch, one hundred twenty pound illiterate redhaired woman from the hill country of South Carolina, which she pronounced, "Sawklina."
At the age of twenty three, Ms Maddux was a veteran whore who had seen it all and done about a hundred and five percent of it since giving up her amateur status when she was twelve. Having been deflowered by her brother at age nine (the brother was forty three at the time), she had given it away (to numerous members of her immediate family) or had it taken more or less forcibly (by more distant relatives, mere acquaintances, and quite a few total strangers) for three years.
At the age of twelve, Liz had realized that she wore her meal ticket just south of her belly button, and she left home never to return. In the following eleven years she had sold it and she had sat on it, but she never, never, ever, ever, under any circumstances gave it away.
Nobody in the city knew much about Liz, and she wasn't talking. All Rosemary Palm knew was that Liz had shown up at the whorehouse door about two years before, looking like a very tall escapee from a Nazi concentration camp. She had remarked at the time that Liz was so skinny she only had one side. Ms. Maddux's only possessions at the time she arrived on Rosemary's doorstep were the clothes on her boney back and a virulent infestation of pediculis pubis.
After two weeks of rest and a nourishing, high protein diet of chili con carne with beans, pork rinds, moon pies, and vodka, Liz had turned out to be a fairly nice looking, if still rather scrawny, young woman.
Her cooties had been eliminated by the shaving of her carrot hued pubic hair and application of liberal quantities of RID, a kerosene based pediculocide.
Professionally, Liz was proud of her ability to deal with even the largest penis, saying, "Sheeeeit, affer thet big ol tallywhacker ah ma daddy's, I ain't hardly felt nuttin since. An Ah kin deep thoat a Looieville Slugga."
After demonstrating her sword swallowing prowess on the rampant member of Rosie's bouncer-handyman-janitor, one Rasheed "Mule" Hawes, Long Liz was welcomed into the sorority of soiled doves at Ms Palm's place of business.
By the time young Jack Vincent made her acquaintance Ms. Maddux had beefed up to 130 pounds, had a good regular clientele, and was a particular favorite among the many well-endowed African-American gentlemen who patronized the establishment. Despite being from the South, Liz was not at all racially prejudiced. She was often heard to say, "Sheeeeit, dem mens, they's alla same ta me. I don' keer a man be brat pupple an gotta yaller pokeydot tallywhacker on hissef, long as he git done quick."
On the night in question, Liz got Jack into her room, took one look at his already erect johnson, and experienced a moment of doubt for the first time in her professional career. Lordy! I's had me some whoppas in ma tame, but I ain't nevah seed nuthin lak thet tallywhacker in all my borned days. Jist 'magin, a dingus lak thet onna whate boy! Sweeeeeet Jeeeeeeesuuuuus!
Rosie had promised a bonus if she took good care of the college boy, so Liz attempted to outfit Jack's swollen schlong with a condom, per house policy. That was like trying to cover the Washington Monument with a grocery sack, so Liz decided to go bareback, just that once.
As the decisive moment arrived, Jack was in that delicate state of equilibrium occasionally attained by sex crazed beer drinkers: The combination of two decades of built up lust and a full bladder had given him a furious erection. Not just an everyday, garden varitey, run-of-the-mill woody, but a blue veined throbber. A real nail driver. At the same time, the alcohol had numbed Jack's sensitivity to the point where orgasm could be delayed almost indefinitely.
Good taste forbids a ... blow by blow account of the consummation of the relationship between the two young people, so suffice it to say that it was a lengthy, lusty affair. It took seventy minutes for Long Liz Maddux to relieve Jack Vincent of his virginity, but the job was done very thoroughly.
Shortly after commencement of the bout, something startling happened to Liz, a thing she had heard about but thought she would never experience. She had an orgasm for the first time in her life. Not only that, she proceeded to reel off an almost unbroken string of climaxes for the better part of an hour, the only gaps being necessitated by changes of position or orifice.
Much to her surprise, Jack's astonishment, and the entertainment of everyone within a radius of several hundred yards, Liz turned out to be a "screamer," that relatively rare sort of female who gives long, loud, shrill voice to her orgasmic pleasures.
At the onset of the yelling, the madam, fearing that someone was being disemboweled or skinned alive, pounded on the locked door to Liz's room and called to see if anything was wrong and if she should call 911.
The reply through the door was a high pitched and strained, "Naaawww, Rosie .... ....I's okay, it's jist ........ jist .... Oh, ma Gaaaawwwwwwwwd .. Ah ... Ah ... Ah ..... Ah ......... SWEEEEEEET JEEEEEESUUUUUUUS ............ Ah ... Ah .... Ah ........... eeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Her shrieks were accompanied by rhythmic squeaks and groans as the mattress and box springs were punished, and thumps were heard throughout the building as the headboard of the old iron bedstead was slammed repeatedly and rhythmically into the wall. Alarms were set off in several vehicles parked nearby, and three neighborhood dogs began howling.
After a few minutes everyone in the house, whores, customers, and hangers on alike were gathered in the hallway outside Liz's door to enjoy the show. At least the audio portion. On two occassions there were loud thuds as the lovers fell off the bed onto the floor. The second time it happened, they didn't even notice and continued their coupling on the bare wood. This made such a racket in the homosexual saloon downstairs that two of the patrons came swishing upstairs, hand in hand, to see what the commotion was all about.
The ranks of kibitzers then included four whores, three customers, Mule Hawes, Rosemary Palm, the two from downstairs whose interest in heterosexual activity was purely academic, and Mule's calico cat, Frieda.
After about an hour, a group of customers in town for a Jehova's Witness convention arrived, and Rosie pounded on the door and yelled at Liz to hurry because business was backing up, and there were three customers waiting for her. Besides that, the spectators were packed in the hallway like sardines. The reply was a shrill, "Peeus awf, ya old bit........ Ah ..... Ah ... Ah ........ SWEEEEEEEEEEEEET JEEEEEEEEEEEESUUUUS!!"
Just as some members of the audience were becoming restless, there came the loudest and most urgent screeches yet, the soprano part accompanied by baritone snorts and grunts. One of the listeners said he hadn't heard anything quite like it since hog butchering back home in Arkansas. A opera lover in the audience said it reminded him of the third act of Il Trovatore.
Liz finally gave forth an impossibly high pitched shriek followed by a long, plaintive squeal. Then there was a moment of silence followed by the sound of two people gasping for air. Following some feminine sobs and masculine whimpers, all was silent.
Rosie softly addressed the audience, "Awright, y'all, le's bust it ep. Show's over and's time ta git on back ta bidness. Hay! Whatter y'all queers adoin' heah? You jist gitcher wimpy asses back down them stairs whur ya belong. This heah's a spectable hoahouse, and tain't no place fer sissies."
A few minutes later a fully dressed Jack Vincent came striding into the living room where his fraternity brothers were waiting, chatting with Ms Palm and Mule Hawes.