Plumbing Problem

"Why haven't I done this before? Mick, that's ... that's ..."

She thrashed her head from side to side and then flung it upwards as she arched her back and screamed. Her juices erupted onto his balls. Mick knew that she hadn't experienced thrusting yet though and he thought for half a second about whether she could handle it. Well, now or never.

As the orgasm continued to shudder through her, Mick drew himself almost out, then pushed slowly back in. She hadn't tightened. He did it again and her head came up slowly.

"You want to fuck me, Mick? You want to fuck my ass? Then FUCK IT!!"

Permission granted; Mick obliged. He lost himself in the glorious sensations of her hot, virgin ass. Time seemed to still as he watched himself withdraw and insert, withdraw and insert. Both hands now grasped her hips, holding her still as he pounded into her again and again. If she'd asked him to stop, he wasn't sure that he could have. He could feel the pressure building within his balls and knew he was only seconds away from coming when he suddenly remembered her condition. Withdrawing so quickly it elicited a gasp of pain from Jess, he stepped backwards as a jet of creamy, thick cum exploded from him, splashing over her ass to ooze down the back of her legs. With his hand he milked the last few drops of his semen gently onto her thigh.

Her head was lowered onto the ottoman, her hair splayed over the front and side. Another spasm shook her and he was sure he'd been way too rough with her at the end.

"Jess, I'm sorry ..."

A muffled voice came from the front of the ottoman. "What!? No. Mick, that was ... amazing. Really, really incredible. I mean it. But I don't think I can move. I also think you could park your truck in my ass now."

"Hah! Not quite honey, but you're gaping beautifully. Wait, is that your kidneys I can see up there?"

She giggled.

"Mick, do me a favour. I want to know what I look like. Can you take a picture? My mobile's over there on the table."

He looked down at his hands; one with the hairs on his wrist and forearm plastered against the skin with her fluids, the other with three fingers slightly stained from her ass and with dribbles of his cum as he'd finished himself.

"Think I'd better just wash up first, Jess, otherwise you're not going to want to use that phone again."

She turned her head to peer out between strands of the curtain of her hair as he held his hands out in front of him.

"Shit! Oops." A hand flew towards her mouth.

"Honey, considering what you just screamed at me, I think 'shit' is pretty mild. It's also actually quite accurate, at least on this hand. See?"

"Sorry, I get carried away."

"No apologies needed. Now that I know you swear like a Trojan when you're excited, I'd have been mortally offended if all I'd managed to get out of you was 'shit'!"

"Well then Mick, you've well and truly 'fucked the shit out of me'. Literally." She grinned weakly. "I consider my pipes thoroughly and professionally serviced. Now go wash up."

"Yes ma'am."

When he showed her the photo a few minutes later, her eyes widened. He'd also brought back a towel and she was now wrapped in it and sitting on the couch.

"Wow, I'm a mess. That's insane. I know you spread me a little bit when you took this, but I can see halfway up my ass! My hole's got to be at least two inches wide! No wonder I'm a bit sore. Tell me it shrinks again, otherwise I'm going to have to come up with a pretty creative explanation for Jon!"

"Yes, of course it does", he laughed. "But you need to go real easy for the next day or so. You are going to be a bit sore. I recommend a hot bath right now and then, if you've got any skin repair or anti-inflammatory cream, a little bit of that a couple of times over the next few hours will get you back to normal by tomorrow morning. I wouldn't have a hot curry for dinner tonight though ..."

"Hmm, best not. Mick, you know where the downstairs bathroom is if you want to have a shower. I'm taking your advice on that bath. Did you call me 'cowgirl' before? Not bad. I think I'll be walking bow-legged for the next little while."

She eased herself off the couch and, with a quick smile at him over her shoulder, walked upstairs. He sat for a moment longer on the couch looking at the wreck of the ottoman: the depressions from her knees, the glistening streaks of his semen and the darkening patches where her sweat and fluids were progressively staining at least half of the leather. Fuck. Seven-times lucky bastard! He went to take a shower, feeling more than a little bow-legged himself!

----------------

Two weeks later, Jon and Jess had a BBQ at their place. Mick had just opened a beer when Jon walked up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, I meant to thank you Mick. Jess told me she had a plumbing problem while I was away. Something to do with pipes? She says you came over and fixed her up."

Mick choked and had to turn his head quickly to avoid spraying Jon with a mouthful of beer.

"Whoa, steady on mate. You're meant to drink it, not drown in it! You're alright?"

Mick recovered from coughing and spluttering and looked carefully at his best friend, but saw nothing on his face but concern and puzzlement.

"You sure you're OK?"

"Ah, yeah mate. Nothing a bit more beer – down the right way – won't fix."

Behind Jon, Mick saw Jess chatting to a few of their friends. She glanced up and caught Mick's eye. She smiled shyly and then gave him a surreptitious 'thumbs up', followed by a beautiful grin.

'Plumbing problem' indeed! Jon you lucky, bloody bastard!