Naked Houseboy & his BBW Boss Ch. 26

*Part 26 of an ongoing story...

Carrie and I were back in bed and I was slowly beginning to get my jerk on to the lesbian porn she had selected. Unsurprisingly, in light of our last conversation, the girls in the video were slimmer than I would have preferred.

"I hope this is OK," said Carrie, snuggling up to me. "I know they're skinnier than you like. But at least they have huge tits." That was true. They both had huge tits. Huge, fake tits. As if reading my mind, she added, "I know you prefer the real thing. But I think the doctor did some pretty good work here."

"Excellent work, I'd say. But yeah, this is more than fine, C," I reassured her. "Few things make me want to jerk more than big tits. Even fake ones. Actually, you want to know something funny?"

"What's that?

"When I was young - I mean, early teens young - there was a time when I actually didn't know how to tell the difference between real and fake boobs."

"Stop it, really?"

"Seriously! I mean, what did I know? At that point, I'd never actually seen a naked girl in real life. And it's not something they teach you in health class, you know?"

"I guess you have a point," she said slowly, considering the matter.

"And once I did learn how to tell the difference," I continued, "there was a time for a while there where I actually preferred the fake ones."

"You??" She made no effort to mask her shock.

"Well, yeah," I admitted. "I mean, everywhere you turned back then, if a woman had big boobs, they probably weren't real. Models, actresses, porn stars. So I think I was probably conditioned a little bit to prefer spherical, silicone juggs."

"So wait," responded. "That whole big speech you just gave me about loving huge, low-hanging natural boobs...when did that start for you?"

"I don't know," I pondered. "I'm guessing sometime in my early-mid twenties."

"So what you're saying," she said, her lips curling into a smile, "is that teenage Jack spent a lot of time masturbating to big fake titties?"

"Teenage Jack couldn't get enough," I smiled back. "So I'm actually quite enjoying this video. It's almost like a trip down Memory Lane."

And I was enjoying it. The hardness of my dick was proof enough of that. Yet nothing particularly exciting was happening on screen. The girls were fooling around, kissing, slowly undressing each other. Nobody was even naked yet. But I was loving it. I found the slow pace of it, the way it all seemed to be one big tease, incredibly tantalizing.

In fact, had that been my first wank of the day, there would have been a very real chance that I would have gotten off before I'd even had the chance of seeing those huge fake tits uncovered. But since this was now my third wank of the day, and since the first two had lasted over two hours each, I knew there was no real chance of me 'overreacting.'

More importantly, perhaps, was the fact that Carrie seemed to be enjoying the video herself. Not in the way that I was, of course. Obviously she wasn't touching herself. But she did seem riveted by it. And this was something new in itself. When she had walked in on me watching the lesbian strap-on video, it was as if she was studying the porn, studying me, my reaction to it. And when I had watched the BBW porn not long before, she had clearly gone out of her way to not see it.

Now, for the first time, I had the feeling that we were actually watching porn together. And that was exhilarating all by itself. For me, watching the girls make out while slowly peeling off a bit of clothing at a time was little more than a tease. A very hot tease, mind you; but still a tease. Carrie, though, was clearly enraptured by it.

I didn't want to ruin her moment, and yet I was dying to know more. I wanted desperately to know what was going on inside her head.

"You seem really into this," I said softly.

"Is it that obvious?" she answered, never moving her eyes off the screen.

"I've never seen you like this," I said gently. "Would you tell me what it is about this video that you find so compelling?"

"I just love how into each other they are," she said with a smile. "It just seems like they're putting so much energy into making the other one feel special and beautiful and appreciated. It's honestly kind of wonderful."

"Yeah it fucking is," I quipped.

"You perv!" she shot back.

"Hi, have we met?"

"Shut up, I'm being serious." Her tone had a touch of the plaintive. It was her way of saying that, while she wasn't mad, this was serious for her and I should treat it as such.

"I'm sorry, Car," I said earnestly.

"You know, it's just..."

"What?"

"It's just...I've never been with anybody who ever treated me like that or made me feel like that, you know? And right now, I'm at a point where I'm nowhere near ready to be intimate with somebody in that way. But I love watching it. I love imagining what they must be feeling. I guess I'm kinda living vicariously through them, in a way. Maybe that's not the best thing for me, long term. But right now, I'm enjoying it very much."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that, C," I said reassuringly. "I think it's almost like a learning experience for you. Maybe it gives you a chance to get to know yourself better, to learn what you want for yourself, and to do it in a safe environment. And then one day, when you're ready, you'll go into that experience more prepared, more confident."

"You really are sweet sometimes, you know that?" Then she kissed me briefly on the cheek before turning her attention back to the screen. Although the girls were still just making out, the bras were off now. The sight of those massive round breasts was making me even harder.

Every now and then, one of the girls would move a certain way, or the camera would catch just the right angle, and these magnificent breasts, that wondrous cleavage would fill the screen. And I'd let out a little gasp, or a whispered 'oh my god,' or just start jerking at a furious pace for as long as that particular shot would last.

And the crazy thing was, Carrie hardly seemed to notice. Carrie, who studied my masturbation habits intensely; Carrie, who could tell how close I was to cumming just by reading my face. This Carrie seemed neither to see me nor to hear me. In fact, she seemed nearly oblivious to my very existence, so wrapped up in her own world was she.

And I found that to be a truly beautiful moment. No longer was Carrie just hanging out with me while I watched porn. No longer was she simply observing me as I masturbated. Here was proof, if any were needed, that we were truly watching porn together. Each of us was enjoying it in our own way, of course. But for both of us, it was better for the simple fact that we were doing it together.

And so it was that a silence fell over us; the only sounds to be heard were the soft moans coming from the TV. Carrie was still snuggled up against me, her head on my shoulder, her hand gripping my chest hair as she watched the story unfold on screen. There was simply nothing to say. Now was the time to just lay back and enjoy what we were watching. Which for me, meant continuing to jerk off.

The scene had now progressed to oral sex. Both girls were naked, with one laying on the couch, the other going down on her. As I watched the scene unfold, I began to feel that familiar warm, tingling feeling creeping over me. I was becoming less aware of what I was actually watching and more aware of the feeling of my own body. My interest began to shift from the gorgeous women on the screen to my utter bliss at the simple fact that I was masturbating.

I knew I was entering my goon-zone, but I made no effort to fight it. I slim smile crept over my lips as I contemplated my love of jerking off. This really was my favorite thing in the world. My smile grew when I thought about not only how much I'd already jerked that day, but how much more I still had to go. There was nothing else I wanted to be doing, nowhere else I'd rather have been.

The world around me started to slip into a haze. Although I could feel Carrie's body pressed up against my own, feel her hand gripping my chest hair, even feel her breath against my neck, I was nevertheless only dimly aware of her presence.

As for the porn, I was only half watching it, my eyes closing periodically to savor the sensations coursing through my body. I knew that the woman getting her pussy eaten was getting closer and closer to climax. Her moans were growing louder, coming faster together. If I wasn't in my goon-zone, I might have made an effort to cum with her. But as things were, her moans were little more than (perfect) background music to my own world of masturbation.

I remember smiling when the woman finally came. 'Good for her,' I thought. 'It sounded like she really enjoyed that.' And yet I knew that no matter how good her orgasm had felt, there was no way it could compare with how good it felt to be jerking in the goon-zone.

I closed my eyes, drifting further into that warm darkness. Soon, the only thing I was aware of was my hand on my dick and how good it felt. And somewhere, deep down, I knew Carrie was beside me. It was a feeling I wanted to preserve as long as possible. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but what finally pulled me out of it was the silence. Or more precisely, the sound of Carrie's breathing, which I could only hear because the sound of the porn had disappeared.

I opened my eyes. The video had been paused, mid-action. I also noticed that Carrie had repositioned her head and was now staring intently at my penis.

"Wow," she said softly, sensing my return. "You went real deep into your goon-zone, didn't you?"

"I so did," I whispered proudly even as I continued to play with myself. "How long was I out for? Fifteen, twenty minutes?"

"Very funny," she replied, continuing her stare.

"What?"

"Jack," she said firmly. "You were like that for at least ninety-minutes. At least," she added again for emphasis.

"Amazing," I whispered, unable to hide my smile.

"I assumed you'd think so. That's why I didn't disturb you. Honestly," she went on, "I was curious how long you could stay in such a state."

"Well, I guess the answer is pretty fucking long." There was no denying I was proud of myself.

"Tell me something, Jack."

"Of course."

"You really love being in that state, don't you?" she asked. "And I don't mean 'love' the way people 'love' ice cream. I mean, you truly love-love it." It wasn't a question.

"I truly do, Carrie," I replied. "In a world with zero responsibilities, I would go to that place multiple times a day, for hours and hours."

"Fascinating," she whispered. And then, raising her voice, just a little, "So when I suggested this 24-hour jerkathon, you weren't just thinking, (switching to mock-Jack voice), 'how many times can I jerk off today,' but 'how many hours can I jerk off in my goon-zone.' Am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong," I said quietly. "Does that disappoint you?"

"Not at all! I'm learning so much. And yet, I have so much more to learn."

I was curious as to what she meant by that, but for whatever reason, I didn't ask. I just continued to lazily jerk my cock. I did notice, however, that in the course of that whole exchange - ever since I came out of my goon trance, in fact - Carrie never once looked up at me. The entire time, she had been - and was continuing to - stare at my penis.

"Fascinating," she whispered again.

"Hmm?"

"Well, you talk about your goon-zone like it's the Mount Olympus of masturbation. But Jack," she went on. "I watched you jerk in that state for over ninety minutes. And that whole time, your penis was almost limp. Or at best, semi-hard. Like, you describe it as the greatest feeling in the world, and yet you can barely get it up. I find that fascinating."

"Not pulling any punches with your choice of words there, huh?" She was right though. And what's more, even now, still on the fringes of the goon-zone, 'semi-hard' would be a generous description.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Jack," she blushed. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I know guys can be sensitive about - "

"Don't be sorry," I interrupted her. "I was just messing with you. Look, first of all, everything you said was accurate. And second, I actually like when you speak that way. It's honest, and I prefer honesty. Especially between you and me."

"Wait, you actually like it when I talk about your penis that way?" Her disbelief was evident.

"Sure," I nodded, "so long as it's true, anyway. Look, Car, one of the beautiful things I've learned in my time living with you is to not be ashamed of my dick."

"Hang on a second," she cut in, furrowing her brow. "You mean to tell me that Mr. I Love Being Naked, Mr. I Love Jerking Off used to be ashamed of his dick?"

"Well, yeah," I blushed. "Not that it happened often, but I mean, if I couldn't get it up with a woman..." I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, embarrassed even now.

"But Jack," she said sweetly, "that can happen to anybody. Hell, I'm pretty sure it happens to everybody at some point or another. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Logically I know that," I groaned. "But it's still a lousy feeling in the moment. The point is," I continued, hurrying to change the subject, "is that basically giving up sex for masturbation has freed me from any of that. And I've learned that I don't necessarily need to be rock hard for me to feel good or to be able to enjoy jerking off."

"So you're saying you literally don't care if you can't get it up?" Considering she was at that moment watching me tug my mostly limp dick between my first two fingers and thumb, the question was hardly a theoretical one.

"I'm not saying that at all," I countered. "There are definitely times when I can't get it up and it's the most frustrating thing in the world. Like, to the point that I want to start smashing shit. But I thought you were interested in the goon-zone specifically. And in that context, sure. When I'm in my goon-zone, the last thing I'm worried about is whether I can get hard or not."

"Again, that's so fascinating."

I kissed her softly on the cheek.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Just for being you," I smiled. "Like, one could imagine someone in your position being disappointed to discover the naked houseboy they hired is a limp-dick chronic masturbator."

"First of all," she shot back sternly, "you're neither of those things. And frankly, given how much you masturbate, if you were able to just constantly be hard, I'd probably worry if you were getting enough blood to your brain. Anyway, the internet is full of big hard cocks. It's not like I don't know where to go if I really want to see one."

"Wait, do you though?" I came back.

"Do I what?"

"Do you go online and look at big hard cocks?" I said, presenting the question clearly.

"Come on, Jack," she blushed.

"Hey, you don't have to tell me," I said. "I'm just asking."

"Sometimes," she whispered beneath glowing cheeks.

"And do you ever...I mean, you know...do you..."

"Jack, can we not talk about this now?" she cut me off, perhaps sensing where I was going. "Let's just go back to the video, OK?"

"Sure," I agreed. "Let's do that."

At the point where Carrie had paused the video, the girl who had just gotten her pussy eaten was laying naked on the couch, her legs spread. The other girl was off camera. Carrie hit play. For a few moments, nothing happened. But then, the second girl reappeared.

This time, she was wearing a strap-on. A huge strap-on. Fourteen inches, if I had to guess. At first, she just stood there, hands on her hips, that massive cock hanging between her legs.

"Oh my," I whispered. I couldn't take my eyes off her...or her cock.

"Is that big enough for you?" asked Carrie with a little giggle.

"Oh god, yeah," I moaned. I could feel myself getting harder just looking at the girl standing there like that. It wasn't long before I was once again at full mast. Carrie noticed.

"See?" she said encouragingly. "You just needed some inspiration."

"I guess so," I agreed.

"I wonder what she's gonna do with that thing," she said softly.

"Actually," I countered, "could you pause it here?"

"Really?"

"Yes, please."

"OK, sure." And Carrie paused the video. I just wanted to take this woman in. Her long blonde hair, massive fake tits, hands on her hips, enormous strap-on thrust proudly forward. I just wanted to drink her in and masturbate.

"Where are you, Jack?"

"Huh?" I barely heard Carrie's question.

"Where are you?" she asked again. "I mean, judging by how hard you are, I'm pretty sure you're not in your goon-zone. So where are you? Tell me."

"I'm in the room with her," I said softly. "Standing naked in front of her."

"Go on," pressed Carrie.

"She's looking back and forth between my penis and her strap-on. She has this look on her face. It's like, half amusement, half pity. Like I brought a knife to a gun-fight."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Embarrassed, at first."

"At first?" echoed Carrie.

"Yeah," I went on. "But then she says it's alright, I've come to the right place. Because she knows I only want to worship her."

"And how will you do that?"

"I get on my knees and beg her to late me taste her cock. She tells me it's good that I begged, it shows how much I respect her. So she will let me."

"So you're sucking her dick," Carrie said, pushing me further.

"As much of it as I can," I admitted.

"Where's the other girl in all this?"

"She's still on the couch. She just watching and fingering herself."

"She likes what she sees?" asked Carrie.

"Oh yeah, she loves it. I can hear her moaning behind me and it only makes me want to do a better job of sucking that strapon."

"And the one with the starapon?" pressed Carrie.

"She smiling down on me, her hands on my head, guiding me. But after a few minutes, she pushes me off her cock. For a second, I'm worried I didn't do a good enough job. But she smiles at me and I know I did alright. She motions for the other girl to come over. Now they're both standing in front of me, I'm still on my knees, looking up at them, with their fake giant tits. The second girl whispers in the ear of the the strapon queen. I can't hear what she's saying, but the girl with the strapon smiles and nods. Finally she takes off her strapon."

"Then what happens?"

"She hands strapon to me and tells me to lie down on the floor. She says I can masturbate as long as I have the stropon in my mouth. So I lay down. And holding the strapon with my left hand, I start to suck on it. I start jerking off with my right. The two girls step forward and stand on either side of my head, feet shoulder-width apart. They start fingering themselves."

"Go on," she encouraged.

"I look up and I see their fingers sliding in and out of their wet pussies, their giant tits bouncing as they fuck themselves." My breaths were growing shorter, my voice quieter, my pace faster.

"And then?"

"And then...they start to squirt...at the same time...their juices pouring down onto my face and chest...they're not just moaning...they're screaming...as they squirt waterfalls onto me..."

"Oh my..."

"One of the girls kneels down and takes the strapon out of mouth. With her hands, she forces my mouth open. The other girl stands over me, her feet on either side of my head. She crouches down over my face...rubbing her clit like crazy...and she..."

"She...?"

"She squirts again...straight into my mouth...and I..."

"And you...?"

"Oh, god!" I couldn't take it any longer. The thought of that woman's pussy hovering over my face, of her squirting right into my mouth as the other one held me down...I arched my back and exploded. I came so hard that, this time, not only did I spray cum all over my chest and Carrie's arm, but some even landed on her cheek.