His Giant Appetite

"Did your plane ditch at sea?"

He shook his head. "I heard you singing. Oh, that was so beautiful! So very beautiful! It made me ache to comfort you."

She felt stunned. "But...how could you have heard me singing? Weren't you busy drowning right about then?"

"I heard you singing, and I fell."

"I don't understand. Did you survive a plane crash?"

He shook his head. "No Zarafa." His reached out one hand and gently brushed wet hair from her forehead. "I fell for you."

* * *

The giant slept on her futon mattress, his feet hanging off the end onto the bamboo floor. He'd slept all through the night while Zarafa perched on a shipping crate, studying his face and body in the moonlight for hours. He had not used the blanket to cover himself. Obviously, he felt no shame about his nudity; but then, why would he? Zarafa had never seen a more beautiful male physique; it was as if some mad scientist—a female or gay scientist to be sure—had taken a male fashion model and, while retaining all his beautiful proportions, had magnified them to enormity. She estimated he was at least 7 feet tall, and with his short black beard and thick lion's mane he reminded her of some classical Greek god.

In the light of dawn she had found that his skin tone was not the rich mahogany it had appeared to be on the moonlit beach, but a much more golden hue—a tone so gorgeous that tanning parlors could charge thousands of dollars if only they could offer it. She had never seen quite that golden shade before, not even among her cousins from Curacao and Brazil, who were blessed with the prettiest skin colors she knew until today. A handsome pattern of black fur decorated his chest and pubic region, but all the places his skin showed bare was as smooth and unblemished as caramel latte ice cream.

Zarafa now watched, with a mix of desire and awe, as in his sleep the stranger's great cock stirred and became erect. As it swelled and lengthened and stiffened, the head, as big as a doorknob, pushed past the foreskin and stood engorged and proud. Zarafa gulped. In keeping with all the rest of him, his manhood was not only huge, but the most beautiful cock she'd ever seen. It looked formidable, a hard tower of flesh; yet its elegant contours made her think of modern sculpture, a bold and elegant spire.

Her nipples hardened and poked against the silk of her shirt; her breasts felt full like round summer pumpkins. A slippery string of pussy juice slithered down between her thighs. Her tidal-pool perfume was already wafting in the small room.

But as she watched his mighty cock bounce with each beat of his giant heart, she worried that the night sea had delivered to her too much of a good thing. Would she be able to fit that much manhood inside her?

Without opening his eyes, he spoke. "Good morning, Zarafa."

She startled. His green eyes opened, and he blazed his beautiful-sad smile.

"Are you well?" she said. "Do you need anything?"

He shifted onto his side to face her and patted the futon. "I need you beside me, beloved, here in bed."

Her heart skipped a beat and an involuntary whimper escaped her lips. Her response surprised her; she was a modern woman—a feminist, no less—and here she was whimpering with lust for a man before he had even touched her. "I don't know your name," she said lamely, as she got into the bed beside him, still wearing her clothes.

She cuddled against his muscular body and smelled his masculine aroma, like warm bread and forest mushrooms, through the cloud of her own sex pheromones.

"You are already close to the truth," he said.

"Do you always talk in riddles?"

"You thought that I remind you of a Greek god."

"How...? Did I say that aloud? I thought you were sleeping."

Then it hit her. She jerked up to a sitting position in the bed. "You're saying you're a Greek god?"

"Last night you asked me my name. I am Dionysus."

Her head swam, and she tried not to panic. It was one thing to crawl into bed with a naked giant stranger, feeling so turned-on that your dripping pussy is scenting the air like a car deodorizer. But a naked, giant stranger who is insane? She shuddered at what he could do if he became violent.

He sat up facing her. "Fear not." He gave her the kind of reassuring smile you might give a little child who fears a boogeyman under the bed. "I probably should not have told you so soon. But I heard you say that I looked like a classical Greek god."

"I don't think I said that. Not aloud."

"You said it in your mind." He touched an index finger to her forehead. "I heard it there."

She drew back from his finger. "I don't believe you."

"I am sorry I have frightened you. Last night, you were feeling such soulful longing to be caressed in love-play. You thought of your mother's record collection and you sang sad songs. Your voice was so lovely, so hypnotic; I felt like Odysseus, his ears unplugged before the sirens."

His smile faded, and his face grew serious. "I fell, Zarafa. I fell for you."

Zarafa's mouth hung open. She felt dizzy trying to process so much weirdness at once.

"I manifested myself according to your heart's desire," he said. "You longed for a giant like Jordan, a man who can fill you up as every woman craves to be filled." He glanced down at his cock, which had mostly lost its erection. "But I can adjust my incarnate form, beloved, if you do not wish me to be so large."

Zarafa noticed her slack jaw and managed to shut it. Her rational mind felt shocked to paralysis, as if her brain had been Tased.

He gazed at her with compassionate eyes and touched her shoulders with large warm hands. "Again, I truly apologize for frightening you. Ancient peoples still believed in theophany. It is so much harder for modern souls."

She heard herself ask in a whisper a question straight out of Philosophy 101: "What is real?" She gulped and shook her head slowly.

He stood up from the bed, towering over her. "Reality is that I urgently have to urinate."

Despite her confusion, she pointed outside through the open window to the little outhouse in the distance beside the beach trail.

He ducked under the doorway as he exited.

Zarafa didn't budge. None of what she had heard made a bit of sense in the scientific worldview she had been trained to trust. It occurred to her that maybe she was the one who was insane. Classical mythology had been her favorite undergrad course; hell, she had written a term paper on Dionysus—this was all her own hallucination! A psychotic break brought on by terrible loneliness and—what did the 19^th century male doctors call it when some lovelorn woman got too horny to fit their standards?—hysteria.

Suddenly Zarafa realized she also had to pee. Emotional excitement always had that effect on her. And the down-to-earth bodily function of needing to pee somehow made her realize, without the need to persuade her rational mind, that she was not crazy. This...this impossible event... it really was happening. Absolutely unexplainable, yet as real as...as real as... "Oh hell, it just is."

She stepped outside into the warm golden sunshine. That was real. The blue sky was real. Hot white sand between her toes. She could hear the giant man—okay, Dionysus, the Greek god—peeing into the deep pit in the outhouse. It sounded like a warhorse pissing, which made her need to go even worse.

While she waited her turn, she tried to remember everything she had learned about Dionysus. Roman name, Bacchus. God of wine and ecstasy and madness. Youngest of the Olympian gods. He had a retinue of females called maenads, meaning "raving ones," because he drove them out of their minds with ecstasy. He'd shown up in ancient Greece from some place far beyond its civilized borders and he symbolized everything dangerous and unexpected, all that escapes human reason. "Boy, ain't that the truth!"

Dionysus seemed in no hurry to finish peeing; maybe he had a divine bladder. Zarafa squatted on the side of the trail and hiked up her sarong to her waist. She tugged her panties to one side and just as she let loose her stream the giant exited the outhouse.

She blushed with embarrassment. Usually it took several weeks of a new relationship before Zarafa felt comfortable peeing in front of a boyfriend.

But the god only smiled admiringly, as shameless at watching her intimate business as he was at casually stroking his cock as he stared. "Ah, Zarafa, you are the loveliest creature. You need never hide your beauty from me." His voice grew throatier. "I am happy that you do not pluck yourself bald. I love your red hair, like a delta on fire."

Zarafa finished peeing and stood, facing a 7-foot tall naked god whose eyes never left hers. His cock had surged to full strength under his coaxing hand. "You believe in women's liberation. Did you know I am also called Eleutherios?" His smile dazzled her. "It means 'The Liberator'. I liberate women through sexual ecstasy."

As if he had thrown a switch, she felt her pussy get sloppy wet with lust. Her eyes fixated on his engorged cock, which had deepened in tone from gold to dark bronze. Veins roped the throbbing shaft. At the tip of its bulbous head, a fat droplet of clear oil grew, sparkled for an instant in the sun, and then drooped in a long viscous ribbon to the sand. She watched, hypnotized, as another fat droplet of pre-cum formed.

Without a second's thought, she dropped to her knees and caught the dribbling string of clear liquid on her outstretched tongue. Oh, geez, it was ambrosia, sweeter than honey, nectar of the gods. She looked up hungrily and his smiling eyes met hers. He kept lazily milking his huge cock, feeding her his pre-cum in slow-motion dollops of the sweetest oil. She swallowed a mouthful, then another.

If he pre-cums this much, how much cum does he make? The thought made her giddy with lust and she stretched open her mouth in a wide "O" to wrap her lips around his cock head, ravenous to find out. His blood-hot meat pulsed with his beating heart. With one hand she stroked the thick shaft in rhythm with her bobbing head. With her other hand she squeezed under his balls on each side where she felt the spermatic cords; he moaned, and she smiled to herself—even gods appreciate that move.

"Ahhhh." He closed his eyes. "Love me like that and I will show you how much cum I make."

He can read my thoughts, so he knows what a filthy slut I am! For an instant, she felt ashamed knowing all her deepest sexual desires were bared to him. Then she remembered him saying, "You need never hide your beauty from me." To be able to share her passion so intimately, at the most primitive level of her emotions—wasn't it the kind of sex she had always wanted? Her craving suddenly seemed indescribably beautiful to her. I love sucking your cock! I want to eat your cum!

He opened his eyes and they told her he read her every feeling directly, immediately. He began gently pumping his pelvis in counter rhythm to her bobbing head, so that he drove his cock deeper into her mouth. She was adept at deep-throating smaller men, and with practice—okay, and while thoroughly drunk—she had even managed to deep-throat Jordan. But the Olympian god's cock was so big she didn't even try to swallow it. Not that he looked dissatisfied with the loving attention she gave it. She held her head still and relaxed her gag reflex and let him pump his mighty cock in and out of her mouth.

Fellatio had always been a big turn-on for Zarafa; it excited her to see how much pleasure she could give her man. Even so, giving head had never taken her to the verge of her own orgasm—yet here she was, about to cream!

I want your cum. Do you hear me in your mind? I'm hungry for you! Feed me your cum!

His immense muscular thighs began to tremble. She caressed his pumping cock in a corkscrew motion with her hand and pressed tightly with her wide-stretched lips. He groaned and began panting and a long shaky moan escaped his lips. It thrilled her to see him on the edge of losing control. Suddenly his breath caught, and it seemed as if the world came to a standstill all around them.

Then he exploded.

His cock jerked in a powerful spasm in her hand and a jet of warm cum filled her mouth in one gush, followed by another tremendous squirt before she had finished swallowing the first. He bellowed like a bull and another torrent of cum made her cheeks puff out under pressure and his cum burst past her lips and splatted on her shirt and through its deep open V onto the top of her breasts. He shot another fat jet of cum and she had to pull her mouth away, and it splashed warmly on her face. She swallowed the puddle remaining in her mouth, and oh it was all beautiful; oh god, he was so beautiful! He grunted and squirted another gush and it arced over her head in a long white ribbon and landed somewhere behind her. Don't waste it! She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to be fed and he aimed and gave her a generous gift of jizz and she quickly swallowed in time to catch another mouthful—and oh it was so delicious and abundant and she felt so aroused and—"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!" She was coming!

Her whole body rocked in involuntary contractions that began at the base of her spine and spilled lightning bolts out the top of her head. And she laughed—not something that had ever happened to her while climaxing—between each spasm that rocked her whole body, she caught her breath and let out a belly laugh.

Her orgasm went on for what seemed like a minute, and when it calmed down, she saw that he had finally stopped ejaculating. His gooey cream coated her whole face.

"Wow," she said, and laughed again more softly. "I've never had an orgasm while giving head. I just came from giving you pleasure!"

He knelt in the sand and hugged her to him, smearing his creamy goo all over his chest hair. "Is that not what love-play should always be? Is it not a communication, an exchange? To give is to receive."

An idea dawned to Zarafa. "You can read my thoughts. Did I climax just now because I can read yours?"

His deep laughed boomed like the distant surf. "Beloved, you are not yet ready to read my thoughts, although I hope that may happen with time. But, yes, you did pick up on the exquisite pleasure you were giving me. I shared my orgasm with you, directly."

"I must look a mess," she said.

He put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to him. "I like the messes that love-play leaves. You cannot eat honey without getting sticky." He kissed her. Their lips fit perfectly in a soft embrace.

He stood and took her by the hand. "Let us get back to your hut. You can wash your face. I want to get you out of those clothes and make you come until you beg for mercy."

Oh my! He can probably do it.

"Of course I can. I am Dionysus, the god of ecstasy."

Finding herself lying on her futon with the ancient god of ecstasy, Zarafa could not clearly remember the part where she had eagerly ripped off her shirt and sarong and panties. Or had he ripped them off her? Maybe he had magically made them disappear. She only knew she felt grateful to at last be naked with him. She had never been so wet; the insides of her thighs were slick from the overflow. She reclined on her back, knees up and legs spread, while he knelt in front, with the bulb of his cock pressed gently against the rosy petals of her glistening pussy.

"Should I make myself smaller?" he said. "I can feel your worry. I promise I shall not hurt you."

"I'm only worried I won't be able to accommodate you. I want you inside me so badly. I want to take all of you into me, as big as you are right now."

"Then I shall go slowly."

He held his immense cock in his hand and strummed her slippery inner lips gently, up and down, without trying to enter her. The silk-smooth skin of the head of his cock rubbed her clitoris over and over.

"Oh, that feels so good!" she said.

"Then let us stay with this for a while," he said. "I want you to relax."

He kept rubbing the head of his cock over her joy button and then sliding it up and down her slick inner lips. Zarafa sighed with pleasure and focused on relaxing more deeply with each breath. She sank into a deep surrender that left her floating with pleasure. His big cock caressed her with infinite patience and her pleasure steadily climbed through degrees of intensity until she felt she was on the verge of a deep, sweet, gentle orgasm.

"Do not come just yet, darling. I am going to enter you now, slowly." And with those words the huge bulb of his cock gently but firmly stretched the mouth of her pussy wide open. She gasped. He stopped when the head was fully inside.

"Oh! Don't stop," she begged. "Keep going. I can take it. I need it. I need to take it all."

He began slowly rocking his hips. With each forward thrust he slid his huge cock into her another inch. Zarafa felt her cunt stretching and surrendering to its loving conqueror. She craved the sensations of being overtaken and filled to the brim.

He held back, rocking even slower, giving her pussy time to expand around his probing trunk.

"Oh baby, I think I'm going to come!" she said.

"Not yet. Hold on. Not until I tell you."

She bit her lip. It felt so damn good! Her pussy was stretched so wide and he was slowly plunging deeper with each thrust.

"I am nearly all the way inside you," he said. "You are such a good lover. You must be a goddess to take the cock of a god all the way inside you."

"Oh, I need to come!" Zarafa shuddered with pleasure.

"Not just yet. Wait for me. Let me bury my manhood all the way to the hilt—now!" He plunged the last two inches of his full length inside her and she shrieked with the joy of her orgasm.

"Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Your cock is so damn big!"

She had never been filled like this. Her climax allowed her pussy to relax and expand and open still more, and her thick lubrication smeared his cock. The whole room reeked of sex.

"Baby, I need you to fuck me now with that huge beautiful cock. Fuck me good! Don't hold back! Break me if you have to!"

He still moved teasingly slow, but began to plunge into her with greater force.

Now her whimpering did not at all surprise her. "Oh, that's it, darling. Give it to me hard. Give me every inch of your great big love!"

His hips rocked in a longer arc and he drove his cock home with each forward thrust. A few more long pumps and her pleasure peaked. "Oh! You're making me come again!" She moaned low in her throat and the muscles in her pussy clutched at him with amazing strength.

Her pussy had never secreted such creamy lubricant; it leaked out around his shaft.

"You smell wonderful," he said. "It makes me want to plow you even harder and deeper."

"Oh please, please do! I need it so bad! I'm begging you to!"

He placed his hands under her knees and lifted her legs so that he could drive himself deeper inside her.

Zarafa found herself involuntarily crying out with the pleasure of each thrust. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Uh!" Her pussy had opened so fully that he was able to begin ramming her.

"Ah! Uh! Ah!" her pleasure mounted suddenly in an irresistible crest and she climaxed, squealing loud and long and uncontrollably.

He withdrew, and she looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"Don't start thinking I'm even close to being done with you!" he growled, leering at her with the utmost desire. Seeing the intense need in his face—no, experiencing it directly, for he was sharing his emotion with her—made her even weaker. She gulped.

"Roll over and get on your knees and forearms," he said. "I have got to pound that adorable ass." Before waiting for her to comply he lifted her bodily and flipped her over, then gave her round ass a resounding slap on each cheek. Ouch! It stung!