Rose

God, I love cock.

A soft and silky on the outside, hard on the inside, cock.

A hard, inside me, cock.

It doesn't have to be a particularly large cock. In my experience, large cocks come with large, arrogant egos. Men with abhorrent, God's gift to women psychologies. Sex with those men is more an exercise in survival than a pleasurable, orgasmic, fucking.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm also not a fan of extraordinarily small cocks. You know, the size where you have to ask if they're inside you yet. They're just an exercise in patience. Patience until you can get home and masturbate to have your orgasm.

I'm also not a fan of masturbation, except in emergencies, like when I haven't been fucked for over six hours. Masturbation means that I have to do all the work. Most masturbation toys are inanimate and cold, incapable of the live twitching or warm deposits I enjoy so much. Vibrating toys are effective but I prefer vibrating live bodies that I can kiss and suck. If I'm lucky enough to approach an orgasm during masturbation, I frequently lose the rhythm and fail to convert.

My perfect cock is an average sized cock, about six inches in length when hard and four or more inches in circumference. They fill me perfectly and I can feel every thrust, twitch and pulse. My orgasm is almost guaranteed. Fortunately, my preferred cock is also the most common cock.

I'm a realist. I realize that live cocks require time to recharge. While waiting for the recovery of a hard cock, I prefer a long, hard tongue, the longer the better. A perfect tongue can curl and exercise my clitoris until I'm on the edge and then slip inside me and do the same for my G-spot. If only the man with the perfect tongue could also breathe through his ears. Pausing to take a breath is so distracting.

I'm also a fan of fingers.

A doctor or therapist might diagnose me as hypersexual. They may be right. However, I don't consider myself sick or handicapped. If there's a twelve-step program to help nymphomaniacs, don't mention it to me. I don't want to hear about it and I won't be going to meetings soon. Besides, NA as an organization name is already taken, something I also stay away from.

I grew up in an uptight, conservative family. My parents sent me to an all girl's Catholic high school. We lived in fear of the nuns. We believed that our every word was monitored and we were probably right. Every conversation revolved around school work and prayer. Any other topic was forbidden and a line we were afraid to cross. The closest we got to anything risqué was Health class. I graduated with honors at eighteen and headed for college.

College was the polar opposite. Erotic conversations and sex weren't proscribed, they were encouraged. The dorms were co-ed and the showers shared. Within two weeks of arriving on campus, I was no longer a virgin and a strong supporter of orgasms.

Many of the women on campus told stories of their first experience getting laid, most of them more horror stories than romance. Not me. My first time was in a real bed, with a fraternity guy three years older than I was. We kissed, undressed each other, cuddled together until I was worked up and ready to rumble. He entered me gently and took his time slowly pushing me to the edge. When I came, he held me until I stopped trembling and walked me back to my dorm across the dark university quad for my safety.

I was an immediate fan of orgasms. He had cum inside me and it worried me. The next day, I got a prescription for the pill. Three days later, I tracked the fraternity guy down for a repeat.

Within a week, the rumor on campus was that I was an easy lay, a rumor I did nothing to contradict. I managed frequent sex while attending classes and studying, graduating with a respectable A-plus average and an F-minus reputation.

I was probably on the path to be a call girl, or worse, until I met Harold. At graduation, Harold was behind me in the line to get our diplomas. We were both wearing silly mortarboard hats and black graduation gowns. The difference was, I wasn't wearing anything under mine.

I had heard about a fraternity guy on campus with a reputation similar to mine but, unbelievably, I hadn't run into him at the many parties I had attended. I was curious and unwilling to let the possibility pass without knowing. "Harold," I said to him. "Are you 'the' Harold?"

"I don't know who you mean by 'the' Harold," he answered, "but I'm willing to bet that you're 'the' Rose."

I laughed and he joined me. "Why haven't we met before this?" I asked.

"I have no idea," he told me. "I've been available for four years. I've gone to all the parties."

"So have I, but I usually get there early and I rarely spend much time partying with the crowd."

"That explains it," he said. "What are you doing after the ceremony?"

I answered him by lifting my gown and flashing my pussy at him. Laughing, he lifted his gown too. I was wrong. I wasn't the only one wearing nothing under my gown. We reached an agreement. We shook on it. My tits for his cock.

We walked across the stage, shook hands with the dean and got our diplomas. While the rest of the graduating class filed back to their seats to listen to dry speeches from desiccated politicians, we snuck behind the stands and headed for my dorm room.

We had to be out of our dorms by the weekend. That left us two days to fill in what we had missed the last four years. Harold did a superhuman job of filling everything I could think of. He was the perfect cocksman with the perfect cock. His cock was about six inches when erect and six and a half inches when strained. His stamina was legendary and his recovery time shorter than most. And his tongue! What can I say about his tongue? When we kissed, I thought he could reach my tonsils and, between my legs, I swear he managed to touch my cervix.

Harold and I moved in together when I moved out of my dorm room.

Harold already had a job at a company where he had been interning. I found employment with a local attorney. We screwed in the morning when we woke up and again before we left for work. We met at the apartment at lunch where I was on the menu. Fucking was the appetizer before dinner and dessert after dinner. We had a prolonged fuck when we went to bed. On nights when we couldn't sleep, we went for lucky seven. We were absolutely perfect for each other.

We were married within a year.

A wise man once said, "The only thing constant is change." Actually, it was really the Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, who said, "Change is the only constant in life." Our life didn't change so much as it devolved. Our jobs became more intense and our lives more hectic.

Lunch was the first fuck to go. Harold's promotion included more work and little more time to complete it. Lunches became eat quickly at your desk meals. I couldn't blame Harold or his employer. The attorney I was working for was gaining a reputation and more clients. I needed to use my lunch hour to keep up.

We managed to adjust our schedules and survive, but I have to admit, I was almost crazy during the time after breakfast and before dinner. If I could, I frequently snuck into the lady's room at the office to rub one out for myself during the afternoon.

The after breakfast screw was the next sacrifice, as the pressures of work required us to get in early. Then, working late doomed appetizers. We tried prioritizing dessert before dinner but that didn't work well since we both needed time to relax after long, stressful days at work. We managed to hang in there during the twelve-hour hiatus but it wasn't easy.

Eventually, we were screwing twice a day. Early morning and on the way to bed. We fell asleep while recovering, eliminating the possibility of a second helping.

Harold seemed to be handling it well but I was becoming a basket case. Masturbation in the ladies room at work wasn't filling the void. I needed a real, live, warm, pulsating cock and I needed it soon and often.

I met Nora at work and we had become close friends. She had resigned months ago but we still managed to have lunch together at least once a week. Desperate, one day at lunch I shared my problem with her.

"Rose," said Nora. "I identify with you."

When I asked her to explain, she told me she also couldn't get enough cock, preferably hard. She dreamed about cock at night and fantasized about cock during the day. She marveled that we hadn't bumped into each other in the ladies' room during the early afternoon. Finally, she admitted that she couldn't take it anymore and quit.

"How could that help?" I asked. "Now you're home alone and still not getting laid."

"Quitting gave me back my freedom to make my own schedule," Nora explained, "and who said I wasn't getting laid?"

"How did you husband deal with your quitting?" I asked. "Wait. Did you say you're getting laid?"

"My husband understands my addiction to sex. How could he not? He accepted my quitting if it helped me deal with the lack of sex."

"That's understanding of him but what about you getting laid?"

"That's the best part. We hired a lawn boy."

"So, I don't see the relationship."

"It's simple. He arrives about eleven every morning. We fuck and he does yard and garden work for the next four hours. Then he showers and we fuck again before he leaves. It's perfect."

"It sounds perfect," I agreed, "but isn't it expensive, given you no longer have an income?"

"That's the real beauty of it. I tried to pay him and he refused to take the money. He suggested that he should be paying me. We called it even."

"Damn, I wish I had a deal like that?"

"You could," Insisted Nora.

"How?" I asked.

"You'd have to quit first," Nora said.

"I get that but I'd still have to find someone like your 'yard boy,'" I stated.

"It may be easier than you think. I put an ad in the college paper," Nora said.

"What? You just advertised for a yard boy with a big cock?"

"Not quite. Just for someone to do yard work. When he showed up, I made it clear that I was looking for more than just pulling weeds and mowing the lawn."

"That simple?" I asked.

"That simple. He's twenty years old. He thinks with his cock. It didn't take much convincing," Nora confirmed.

"I don't know," I told her.

"You need to get laid?" Nora asked.

"You know I do," I answered.

"What are you choices?"

"Not many," I said. "But don't want to cheat on Harold."

"Talk to him. That's what I did with my husband. He knows everything about me and my overactive libido. He actually blessed the arrangement when he understood the risks of my seeking fulfillment elsewhere. He'd rather I have one repeated fuck buddy than a series of unknown cocks I'd find in bars or lounges. He even calls if he's coming home early. He knows, therefore, I'm not cheating." Nora said.

"That might work," I said.

"I'll tell you what," said Nora. "Take some time off next week and come over to my place for an early lunch. Maybe my 'lawn boy' can slip it into you while he's there."

Over the weekend, I had a long conversation with Harold. We had the conversation in three segments, between more prolonged fucking and sucking sessions. I told him about Nora and how we shared a common problem. I told him about how Nora had solved the problem for herself. I asked him if he would be open to a similar solution for me.

Harold thought about it and agreed with Nora's husband. He couldn't solve my problem alone and he preferred I fuck as few other guys as possible.

Finally, I told him about Nora's invitation. "Go for it," he said. "It's a worthwhile experiment," he added as he rolled me over and fucked me in my ass until neither of us could continue.

I accepted Nora's offer Sunday morning and Monday morning I called work and asked for several days off to deal with a pressing family situation. Grudgingly, my supervisor granted me time off but not without reminding me about the outstanding workload and that it wasn't going away while I took a vacation.

I arrived at Nora's at ten-thirty. During the drive over, I imagined how the scenario would play out. Anticipating the possibility, I was dressed appropriately, a one-piece dress that came to two inches above my knees, flats, no bra and no panties. Getting out of the car, I noticed my dress stuck slightly on the car seat. I examined the back of my dress and found a small wet spot. My imagining was more effective than I thought.

Nora was wearing a thin t-shirt torn off just below her breasts and tight shorts that looked painted on and left nothing to the imagination. "Nice party dress," she said.

I lifted the hem of my dress and flashed her. "Oh, that kind of party. Nice," she commented.

We sat on the sofa, sipped wine and waited. The doorbell rang at exactly eleven o'clock. Nora jumped up and half ran to the door. "Hey Bud," she said as she opened the door. "Come on in."

Nora walked our visitor into the living room. "Bud, this is Rose. Rose, Bud," she said. "Rose suggested that she join us today. Okay?"

Bud looked me over. I could feel him undressing me with his eyes, not that there was much to undress. I stared back at him, my only focus on the size of the bulge in his jeans. "Okay," he said simply.

Nora led Bud to the bedroom and I followed. The king sized bed was already turned down. Nora kneeled in front of Bud and started to undo his belt buckle. Bud removed his t-shirt. Nora managed to get Bud's jeans open and pushed them down his thighs along with his underwear. She took his exposed penis in her hand. "I've missed this," she said.

Bud, reached out, removed Nora's t-shirt and held her breasts in both hands. "I've missed these," he said.

They moved on to the bed. Bud removed his pants in the process and Nora peeled off her shorts. They crawled together into the center of the bed. I sat in a nearby chair to sit and watch.

They kissed and Nora slid down his body until she could take his cock in her mouth. Bud was ready in a few minutes. Nora slid up his body and impaled herself on his erection. "Shit, that feels good," she said.

They fucked for a few minutes until Bud lifted Nora up and turned them both over. On her back, Nora lifted her legs high, over Bud's shoulders and pulled him forcefully further inside her. Bud fucked her as if his life depended on it. Nora had an obvious orgasm.

I sat in the chair, my skirt around my waist, my fingers in my pussy, watching them fuck. Nora's second orgasm sent Bud over the top and he emptied himself inside her. I had my orgasm watching his hips twitch as he came.

Bud rolled off Nora and noticed me in the chair. I was frozen, my fingers still in my pussy, sliding down from the effects of my orgasm. He waved, indicating I should join them on the bed. On the way, I lost my dress.

I crawled on the bed next to Bud. He rose up and kissed me. I put my arms around his head and kissed him back. He took my hand and placed it on his half erection. I stroked his cock several times and he pushed my head down on his body.

Bud's intention was obvious and I didn't hesitate. I sucked his cock into my mouth. Nora sat up to watch. "Taste good?" she asked.

"Tastes wonderful," I replied.

"More me than him," she commented.

"I know. I was watching," I said.

"There's a better way to taste me," suggested Nora.

"I know that too," I told her, "but I need to fuck him first."

"Be my guest," Nora said and she lay down again.

Bud was ready in less than three minutes. "God I love youth," I thought.

Seconds later, Bud was between my uplifted legs, pushing deeply inside me. He supported himself on his arms. His back arched and he was forcing his hips repeatedly against my happy cunt.

Nora busied herself fondling and kissing my tits. I had three more orgasms before Bud grunted and pumped his second load of semen inside me.

Bud excused himself. He had yard work to do. "Let us know when you're finished," Nora called after him as he left the bedroom holding his clothes in his hands. He closed the door behind him.

"God, that was wonderful," I said between pants.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Nora said. Nora turned her attention to me. "As I was saying," she said. She kissed me on my lips.

I kissed her back. She fondled my tits. I fondled her tits. She stroked my mons and rubbed her finger against my clitoris. I stroked her pussy and rubbed a finger against her clitoris. "You think this is okay?" I asked.

"You did say you wanted to taste me from the source, didn't you?" Nora asked.

"I did."

"And, I'd love to taste you as well," confirmed Nora.

We added tasting to what we had already started. Two hours later, exhausted and sticky, we took a break to clean up and hydrate.

We moved to the living room. Nora brought the wine and I brought the towels. We sat on the sofa in the living room, naked and with wine. I took a sip of wine and addressed Nora. "That was wonderful but it will never replace a live cock."

"I agree but it does take the edge off just enough to make the wait tolerable," Nora confirmed.

"Actually, you took me over the edge several times," I said.

"Damn, woman," commented Nora. "I wish I had the ability to orgasm that you have."

"You didn't do too badly," I commented.

"But you had two orgasms to every one of mine," stated Nora.

"I'll try to do better next time," I promised.

"I'll hold you to that," promised Nora.

The doorbell rang. Nora answered the door without attempting to cover herself. Bud was at the door holding his t-shirt in one hand. He looked even better, sweat shining on his body after working in the yard. Nora sent him to the shower anyway.

Nora and I moved back to the bedroom to wait for Bud. We sat on the bed against the headboard and sipped our wine. Nora was on my right. Her left leg was over my right leg such that our legs were slightly separated. Bud came out of the shower. He was drying his hair with a towel that hung down toward his left side. His penis hung down toward his right side. Just the sight of his penis made me wet. Just the thought of his penis inside me, made me squirm.

Bud turned to return the towel to the bathroom. His cheeks were tight and beautiful which did nothing to relieve my anxiety. Bud stood by the side of the bed for a moment. Nora moved over and patted the bed between her and me. Bud crawled between us and sat with his back against the headboard too.

Nora and I reached for his cock at the same time. Bud responded quickly. "How do you want to do this?" asked Nora.

"He's your yard boy. You should go first," I told her.

"But you're my guest. You should go first," she responded.

"Ladies," said Bud. "Let me settle this. Get on your knees beside each other and let me handle who goes first, last and in between."

I was first, but not for long. Bud kneeled up behind me and slid his beautiful cock deeply into me. He took about a dozen long, deep strokes and then he was gone. I looked behind me and Bud was fucking Nora from behind. A dozen strokes later, he was back inside me again.

Bud alternated between us. Each time he was inside me, I moved closer to an orgasm. The short rest I had when he was inside Nora, caused me to retreat somewhat. The effect was that Bud fucked me for almost twice as long as normal before I came. I wanted to cum sooner but the pleasure of getting there compensated nicely. Bud maintained his pace until both Nora and I came. Actually, I came twice before Nora screamed with her orgasm. Bud spread his contribution over both of our backs.

Bud excused himself and got dressed. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked before he left.

Nora was quick to confirm Bud's assumption.

Nora and I spent some quality time, licking Bud's cum off each other's backsides and our own cum from each other's insides. A short time later, I put on my meager clothing and carried my shoes out to my car. "Same time tomorrow," called Nora from the doorway, naked.