Molly's Muse Pt. 02

Authors Note: I have no idea what I'm doing. Here's Part 2.

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Molly sat at her kitchen counter dressed only in her bathrobe and typing away at her computer. The words were so vivid in her mind that her fingers were having a difficult time keeping up with her thoughts. She couldn't remember a time when writing had come so easy to her, not even for her other books.

Was it Paul? Or had it just been so long since she had written anything of significance that this flood of inspiration was as much the result of the inevitable downpour at the end of long drought?

She could feel his eyes on her. He was sitting in her bed alternating between messing with his phone and looking at her. They would eventually have to get dressed and go about their day, no matter how much she didn't want to, but for now she enjoyed the quiet morning intimacy.

A timer went off on her stove top. It made Molly jump slightly, getting lost in her writing and thoughts about Paul causing her to forget she had set it. She was attempting to make breakfast and was oddly nervous about it. She could confidently say she was good at many domestic tasks, but cooking was not one of them. She was one of those people who ordered out for every meal. She could afford it, and it saved her from her own bad cooking.

Getting up, Molly grabbed two bowls and went about serving them both good portions of the mushy oatmeal before walking over to Paul and handing him one. She sat down next to him on the bed with her own but didn't start eating, more interested in Paul's reaction to her cooking rather than eating it herself.

He looked so cute blowing on each spoonful before eating it. Molly didn't see any negative reaction from Paul, so she calmed down a bit and started eating some for ferself.

She grimaced. It was awful. She unceremoniously put the bowl down in disgust, preferring to stay hungry rather than suffer her own failure.

Paul didn't seem to mind, causing Molly to seriously doubt the man's ability to taste.

A small amount of oatmeal got caught on his top lip and Molly watched as he crossed his eyes, as if trying to look at it, before reaching out with his tongue and licking it up.

Molly giggled. It was the most adorable thing to watch. Paul gave her a questioning look, but when she didn't say anything, he brushed it off and went back to eating.

Not for the first time, Molly felt concerned at the way things had strayed off plan yesterday and worried how things might progress with him moving forward. She knew from experience that introducing an exclusively straight male to her and her massive girlcock too soon and too fast hardly ever worked out well.

What made it more of a worry, was how she could already feel that if she kept spending time with Paul, she was going to want to more than a professional relationship. It had happened once before with a previous editor of hers, and the ending was far from a happy one. She wanted more, he wanted his credit and a fast exit. It had been so long since she'd been interested in a man for more than what they could do for her physically that she was unsure how to handle her feelings for Paul.

He seemed to like her directness, especially about sex, but would he react the same to romantic interest?

Paul was still a mystery to Molly. It had only been a day and the other men she had history with before him would best be described as 'effeminate' and tended to fetishize being fucked by a 'dominant futa-barbarian', or something just as stereotypical.

The role-play was fun for a spell. It allowed Molly to scratch some of her more aggressive urges, but the aftercare was abysmal. She wanted to be cuddled, spooned, or otherwise cared for by someone strong, if only for a moment. The only problem with that is the type of guys who were into being dominated weren't the type who could then flip the switch and take control once the sex was over. After they limped home the next morning, Molly could never bring herself to call them again. They were boring.

Paul, on the other hand, was anything but boring. He was insightful, surprising, and oddly pragmatic about meeting a woman who had a bigger dick than he did. She always figured men like him would consider having sex with a dickgirl to be homosexual to some degree. If he did have thoughts like that, he hadn't said anything.

She remembered him moaning and grunting to the rhythm of her long hard rod slamming into his ass, and briefly fantasized about doing it again. She also fantasized about what it would feel like to have his above average sized cock pounding deep inside her. She didn't think she would have to work that hard to make either fantasy come true, even if it wasn't technically part of his job at this point.

Then there was the titty-fuck thing. Though nothing could replace the ecstasy of burying herself in a warm hole, having Paul buried between her tits, sliding in, out and through her tender melons before soaking them with his seed was quickly becoming her new favorite.

She still had remnants of his load from earlier drying on her skin and she had no desire to clean it just yet. The smell of dry cum coming from her chest was potent, she wasn't ready to lose that.

If it was just her, Molly would be happy enough to smell like Paul all day. She thought a man's cum smelled like raw pancake batter, which was a smell she had always liked growing up.

Smelling like sex and cum in an office full of dickgirls, however, was a very bad idea. Molly needed to make sure she and Paul were clean before taking him back downstairs if she wanted to avoid more interaction like the one she'd just had with Grace. Paul would be getting hit on often enough already, she didn't need him smelling like sex and make it worse.

All the arrangements with her editors before were far from exclusive. As long as they were available when she needed them, they could fuck and suck whoever they wanted. The thought of someone else putting their hands, or other parts, near Paul, however, stirred something in Molly she was very uncomfortable in having to deal with.

Paul must have noticed Molly's inner turmoil, because he had stopped eating and was looking at her quizzically.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"Just thinking."

"Must have been of something confusing."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you look upset, but you're also hard again."

She looked down on reflex, and yes, she was hard.

"I have to say," continued Paul, "I'm a little insulted. Here I am, probably needing an inflatable donut just to be able to sit the rest of the day; and there you are, throbbing and ready for round two. Was it that underwhelming?"

"No," she hurried, "It's... I'm..." She was panicking, wanting to reassure him just how great it was to be with him but not being able to get the words out.

"Relax," Paul interrupted with a smile, "I was kidding. I may be only a day old into figuring out the fine details of being with a dickgirl, but it's pretty obvious erections come fast and easy for you."

He reached out and gave her cock a quick rub and a squeeze, as if petting her.

"I find myself very much enjoying the look and feel of your girlcock, Molly." Paul may have been speaking to all of Molly when he had said that, but it was apparent he had eyes and attention only for her oversized appendage. Tearing his gaze from it after a moment, he continued. "There is something inherently sexy about you. A natural quality I can't really describe. It's... overwhelming."

Molly smiled. Just like that, Paul had her happy again. She didn't miss the current role reversal, Paul being the confident one while she was the one struggling to catch up.

It was quiet for a while, both seeming lost in their own thoughts. Molly kept thinking about Paul and what she should do about wanting more. Unknown to her, Paul was thinking about much the same thing.

He thought the morning had gone well. Taking Molly's giant girlcock all the way to the hilt gave him a feeling of accomplishment. He couldn't make sense of the feeling. Molly did most of the work while he concentrated mostly on not being ripped in half. At best he maybe deserved a cool participation trophy.

Something that did make sense, but probably shouldn't, was how amazing it felt to have Molly inside him. It hurt, still hurt, but the pain was fading, leaving him only with a feeling of pressure and fullness. Even if it never happened again, it would be an experience he would always remember.

Then there was the care Molly had taken with him to ensure it was as comfortable for him as she could make it. No woman had ever shown him so much effort in the bed.

As a man with a dick himself, he knew how hard it was to keep yourself controlled once your prick found a warm, welcoming hole. The desire to slam balls deep and hammer away until satisfied was instinctual. Considering how everything in the sex department seemed amplified for a dickgirl, he could only imagine the level of restraint she had shown with him.

The only other woman who had made him feel cared for like that was his mother. He liked it and wanted more. A great deal more. There was one, big, monster of a problem, however, and he didn't know how to break it to Molly.

He had been polite up until now, but enough was a enough.

"Molly?"

"Hmm?"

"I know a lot has happened over the last day, most of it good, don't get me wrong. but I find myself with a problem I don't know how to approach. All I can think is to come out and say it."

"What," Molly replied, sounding worried.

"I'm not the most traveled man, but I've been a few places, seen and experienced and few things over the years..."

Molly's heart skipped, did he not like being here? Was this where he told her he wanted to leave and not be a part of this? A part of her? She wanted to stop him before he said the words, convince him how important he was. She should have told him earlier, maybe things would be going better if she had.

"... but this is the absolute worst oatmeal," stated Paul. "It's like I'm eating wet cardboard. I feel like less of a person for having eaten it. Ashamed even."

Molly went quiet, the conversation had taken too hard a turn from what she was fearing that she had to physically regroup.

After and extra moment, she burst out laughing, falling back into the bed.

Paul watched as she lost her shit, her laugh pure and melodic.

Molly would laugh, then try and compose herself to speak, before losing it all over again. She started wheezing, trying to catch her breath but started to hiccup instead.

Paul hadn't seen anything so fucking adorable in his entire life. If he managed to keep her when this job was done, he'd make it one of his life goals to see her laugh like this again. She laughed so hard that her robe opened and her tits popped out, jiggling in sync with her rolling laughter. Paul was both proud and happy he could make this all happen.

It took a few minutes, but Molly calmed down enough to speak, "Sorry Paul, I suck at cooking."

"It's oatmeal."

She giggled, still trying to catch her breath, "I don't normally eat breakfast. This oatmeal has probably been in my pantry since the day I moved in... six years ago."

Paul put his bowl down on side table with a disgusted look on his face. Molly started to laugh again, unable to control herself.

She let out one particularly loud snort, said "fuck, ignore that" and continued laughing. Paul could no longer help himself and joined the beautiful girl in her laughter.

They both understood it wasn't that funny, but joy has a domino effect all its own, regardless of the cause.

It was therapeutic.

Their laughter was followed by another round of contemplative silence. Something was brewing between them. A conversation, a confession, something, but they didn't know what, and they didn't know when their silence about it would be broken.

True to her form, Molly was the one who spoke first, getting back to her direct nature after being so indecisive throughout the morning.

"I want more from you," she said, looking Paul dead in his eyes, "you've given me so much already I feel guilty saying this, but I need more. Editor Paul isn't enough of you."

Paul was not surprised, but he was relieved. She had given hints and signs she felt this way, that it was more than sex, but this was the first time either of them had said anything outright.

"I don't know exactly what's going on here," he said, moving closer to Molly, "but there's an intensity to it I can't seem to grasp yet. What I can grasp, however, is that it's all about you. You're new and special and wonderful. You say editor Paul isn't enough. I could give you every version of Paul I know how to give and still know it's not enough to deserve you."

Paul winced, that was so cheesy he half expected Molly to start laughing again.

She didn't. She jumped into his arms and tackled him down flat onto the bed, laying on top of him and went about trying to swallow his face, kissing him.

"That line was worse than the oatmeal," she said between kisses, "You should tell me more dumb romantic things like that. I'm going to play with your dick now."

"There's my sweet girl, so assertive."

"That's the second time you've called me your 'sweet girl'," she said, dragging her hard cock and giant tits over his skin as she moved down his body.

"Does it bother you?"

"The opposite. Keep calling me your sweet girl and you might just find out how sweet I can be."

"Now who's using terrible lines?"

Molly lightly scraped her teeth over the top of his cock shaft, causing Paul to yelp.

"You shouldn't make fun of someone so close to your dick," said Molly. She looked up at Paul and started licking the area of his cock where her teeth had just been, as if in apology. "Besides, I'm a world-famous author, my lines are never terrible."

She started stroking his cock with one hand while bring her head lower, aiming for an even more sensitive part of Paul's anatomy. She nuzzled her nose under his balls and lifted them, taking their weight onto her face. She inhaled his musky scent before starting to lick the usually neglected area where a man's ball sack met his taint.

She tilted her face up slowly, letting the balls on her face slide down until they were resting on her mouth, where she sucked one in and started messaging it with her lips and longue.

Having a big set of her own, Molly knew exactly how to draw out the most pleasure from ball-play while avoiding all the potential pain or discomfort.

She switched back and forth, sucking one ball into her mouth, then the other, exaggerating a small slurping and popping sound each time she did so.

Molly loved having balls in her mouth. It was a texture thing. Something about swirling the tender orbs, encased by soft, wrinkled flesh, inside her mouth and with her tongue scratched some unknown itch she'd never be able to accurately describe to anyone else.

There was also a power to it she couldn't deny made the whole affair that much more exciting. The amount of pain she could cause with minimal effort, should she ever want to, was a chilling understanding only someone with a sensitive set of balls of their own could know.

Hovering on such thoughts, Molly spent more time indulging in her ball sucking kink than she probably should have. Paul squirming brought her back to what she was actually doing.

Ball-play had a habit of getting someone revved up without providing the needed stimulation for anything more, resulting in a weird sort of blue balls. Keep it up too long and it might start causing Paul discomfort, turning ball play into ball torture.

Some guys were into that, Molly knew, but she was confident Paul wasn't one of them.

She quickly adjusted and took Paul's cockhead into her mouth and used her tongue to lick under and around as if announcing her shift in attention.

Paul visibly relaxed. He wouldn't feel better entirely, until Molly made him cum. And, depending on how bad she had gotten carried before realizing what she was doing, even cuming might not be enough.

Using both her hands and her mouth, Molly intended to make Paul cum as fast as possible. He must have been on a hair trigger from her inadvertent teasing because before she knew it, her mouth was being filled by hot seed.

Paul was moaning and fucking his cock deeper towards Molly's throat with every spurt of cum, Molly never once letting him free of her suction.

Her mouth was filling, and she swallowed down a mouthful of cum to make room for more.

When Paul had stopped moving, finally spent, Molly propped herself up on her hands, letting her tits dangle onto Paul's worn cock. She made sure Paul was watching, opened her mouth to show the pool of cum she had been saving, and tilted her head down so it could dribble out and down her chin.

The thickness of it kept it from dripping. It trailed down Molly's chin, down her neck and into her cleavage where it stopped. She laid back down on Paul and wrapped his cock into her tits. He had been so turned on his dick hadn't found the time to soften yet, even with the intensity of his orgasm.

Molly squeezed her tits hard and started fucking his cock with them. She wanted to make him cum again.

She pressed her tits down as much as she could so Paul's tip was poking out the top of her cleavage. She dipped her head awkwardly and took him into her mouth again, using her tongue aggressively on his over-stimulated frenulum.

Molly once again noted the advantages of having a man with a big cock, if she had tried this with one of her previous liaisons, it never would have worked. Her giant tits would have swallowed their cock whole with nothing left over to suck.

It was fifty-fifty on if she could get Paul to cum again so soon after his last orgasm. She would take those odds, however, feeling nervous that Paul might be upset at her for the accidental blue balls. She wanted him too empty to be sore.

"Oh shit, Molly, I'm going to cum again. How...?"

The question trailed off as Molly doubled her efforts, encouraged by the good news. She bounced her tits on his cock, sucking the tip back in her mouth every time it peaked up from between them.

Her tits clapped into his lap and her mouth slurped until once more Paul came. It wasn't as much as the first time, but it was plenty for Molly to fill her senses with his taste again.

Paul groaned and pulled away from Molly, all but tossing her off him and curling into a ball as if protecting his cock from Molly's touch. He was in sensory overload and shivering.

Molly moved up the bed behind Paul and cuddled into his back, spooning and smushing her tits into him. She ran her hand through his hair and waited for him to recover.

"You're like a sex demon. I didn't know I could do that," said Paul.

"It's not common. I may have worked you up a little too much before I got you off. Sorry."

"Sorry? You suck my balls like a needy slut, get me off twice, then apologize for it? That was so intense I'm pretty sure I know what the color purple smells like."

Molly laughed and pulled him tighter into her, her girlcock poking into the back of Paul's legs. He opened them just enough for Molly to slip her dick between his thighs. He was still sweaty and covered in Molly's spit and his own cum down there, which made the area making slick enough for Molly to start thrusting.

Paul squeezed his legs tighter.

"I thought I might have made you uncomfortable with all the attention on your balls," she said, sighing. She hadn't intended for the cuddle to turn into a thigh-job, but she was happy to take advantage of the opportunity.

"I love how you want to take care of me, it's why you're my sweet girl, but you don't have to do it all the time. I'm not a weak or fragile by any means; and you aren't some big, brutish dickgirl taking advantage of me. I won't break, and I certainly won't be mad because you do something that makes me uncomfortable for a little while."