Samson & The Delilahs

Melissa wrapped her fingers around his organ again. No matter how she tried, her thumb and forefinger wouldn't touch. It felt unusually heavy in her grasp.

"Excuse me, hon," Kagney asked. "Can you pull that up out of the way for me? I'm gonna lick his balls." Her casual manner disarmed Melissa. The midwestern gal seemed almost too nice to be part of an orgy.

Happy to oblige her new friend, Melissa wrenched his tool upward to a diagonal position. His rock-hard erection had grown so rigid that it required substantial effort. Not missing a beat, the redhead slid underneath the hollow of his thighs to lap at his balls. Samson's fleshy nutsack hung low and heavy, his egg-sized gonads visibly churning with a huge load of potent seed. Melissa unexpectedly found herself wanting to join Kagney down there, to kiss the folds of his musky jewelbag, and to suckle his balls one by one.

"May I?" asked Dredd before grabbing hold of his prick and stroking the underside of his shaft with one long, lazy lick of the tongue. "You wanna try?" she asked, pointing the tip right at Melissa's mouth. On a whim, Mel flicked her tongue against his glans. His cockflesh tasted surprisingly good, a musky and manly flavor that made her clit twitch. Before she could lick him again, however, Dredd yanked it back to polish the massive helmet on her own. Samson's eight-pack abs creased and a mighty growl of satisfaction rumbled deep within his chest. Melissa felt an odd giddiness watching her girlfriend please this hulking beast of a man.

Suddenly, Sandra's back grew stiff as a board. "I'm gonna come!" she squealed. Samson tightened his grip on her ass to keep her in place as his girlfriend squirmed against his face. Her head lolled backwards as she achieved The Big "O". As the master lover continued to eat her out, rivulets of girly cum trickled down his neck and into the furroughs and crevices of his ripped torso. They soon grew into a flood as her orgasm peaked. By the time her body finally went limp, Samson's chiseled muscles gleamed in a shiny coating of liquid lust.

After a long beat, Samson lifted Sandra off his shoulders, her pussy still drizzling juice onto the rumpled sheets . Having raised her entirely above his head, he flung her backwards across the length of the bed. She landed with a soft harmless thud, her ass bouncing up and down on the mattress like a trampoline. What would happen next could not be held in doubt. Samson would have her. Still dazed from her orgasm, Sandra could do little more than spread her legs in anticipation of the manbeast's conquest. He crawled towards her slowly with his notoriously smug grin.

A man of Lance's licentious character found himself smiling a great deal as of late. He had claimed the winning ticket in a sexual lottery that enabled him to live out his most outrageous fantasies. But his joy did not come only from his loins. It also came from the heart. The teenage rakehell had fallen madly in love with Sandra. She was and would forever be THE ONE for a man who enjoyed many.

Despite his potent physical allure, Lance Leo was a highway few women dared travel and most turned off at the first exit. The insatiable Don Juan enjoyed his freedom. But when Sandra jumped aboard, she rode the human stallion for all he was worth. Nothing he did could throw her out of the saddle. This was not to say Queen Kong chased him out of desperation. On the contrary, she wanted to break the untamable studhorse, to bring him to heel. Sandra vowed to make an honest man of him.

A drama of epic dimensions ensued. Short of killing him, Sandra tried everything to claim the elusive playboy. She stalked her reluctant boyfriend, made ominous threats, and even forced him to skip town for a few months. No man in his right mind would have returned to her. But Lance was foolish and horny. However, he came back with a major caveat. Lance would lie with her but not lie to her.

"Babe," he told her again and again. "I ain't gonna lie. I need to stud with a lot of women." HIs words scared her. Yet Sandra also developed an odd respect for the Lothario. Most guys would have just said whatever she wanted to hear and screwed around behind her back. But Lance stayed faithful to his code of honorable debauchery. Whenever a sexy girl requested his intimate expertise, he did not conceal his intent to oblige her. And so it went. Sandra asked no questions and Lance told her no lies.

Lance hinted that they could stay friends with benefits. He did not want to hurt her but monogamy was not and would never be his jam. However, giving up was not Sandra's jam. Unable to stop his compulsive desire for hookups, she decided to understand what made Lance tick. If she could get inside his thick skull, maybe she could change his mind. Clearly, certain incidents and experiences fueled his exceptionally strong libido.

So Sandra started asking questions about his past. Lance understood her gameplan. She wanted to psychoanalyze him into becoming her boyfriend. At the same time, no one ever tried to get to know him before. He never met a chick that wanted more than sex. That jazzed him. So, against his better judgment, he decided to open up and tell her his life's story...

ONE YEAR AGO

Once upon a time, Lance was just another horny teen in a high school filled with a thousand other horny teens. He wore glasses, braces, and golf shirts with popped collars. And, like his peers, Lance thought about sex day and night. Every dude experienced those urges but they became an overpowering obsession for the lust-crazed juvenile.

Naturally, the Internet enabled him to explore his emerging desires. He spent all his waking hours on pornographic websites. The teenager quickly gravitated to FFM threesome videos. There was something badass about knocking boots with two smoking hot bifemmes. But this typical mlae fantasy soon expanded into a much more extravagant and elaborate scenario. Lance started looking at FFFM before graduating to FFFFFM videos. It did not take Sigmund Freud to identify his kink. He aspired to be a harem stud that got his orgy on with a writhing horde of gorgeous babes in the same bed at the same time.

Besides porn, Lance studied websites like Refinery 29 and Cosmopolitan to learn about female sexuality. The empty-headed teen couldn't pass algebra but he knew exactly where to find a woman's G-spot. Despite his disdain for books, he still managed to wade through all 12 volumes of Casanova's memoirs, the Kama Sutra, and countless sex position manuals. However, his greatest inspiration came from an obscure e-book on a now-defunct website.

Very few people ever read "Wanderlust: The Erotic Adventures of Samson." The 1000-page epic chronicled the love life of a legendary barbarian warrior by the name of (guess who) Samson. While some chapters recycled the usual "sword and sorcery" tales found in mainstream fantasy novels, the bulk of the book focused upon its hero's unusual prowess in the boudoir. "With the body of a god and the loins of a stallion," proclaimed the author. "Samson literally bedded thousands of women."

Lance was hooked from the first paragraph. The book distilled his most intimate fantasies into lurid and lucid prose. He pored over the text all night long. The titular character accomplished sexual feats that made Casanova look like an amateur, swashbuckling his way from one bedroom to another. Lance particularly enjoyed reading about the hero's orgiastic conquests in which he "arranged trysts with multiple admirers who shared in his abundant virility." While other guys his age looked up to athletes and celebrities, Lance idolized an imaginary master of seduction in a dirty book.

The day after it came online, the novel disappeared from the web without a trace. Lance spent months Googling for the lost PDF to no avail. He eventually wondered if the whole thing had been a bizarre online hallucination. Nonetheless, the vivid sex scenes from the missing book played in his mind over and over again as the teenager jacked himself off like a madman. However, this erotic phantasmagoria left him increasingly unsatisfied. He wanted the word made flesh.

Some long ago summer evening, little Lance Leo could not go to beddy-bye. The teen felt like shit. He was a skinny virgin with zero social prospects. Back in grade school, Lance was the kid who got picked last to play on the dodgeball team. Junior high was another step down. The awkward introvert got his ass kicked daily by the jocks and barely passed his remedial classes. As for high school, he wanted to drop out so he could look at porn all day.

Still unable to sleep, Lance walked over to the window to smoke a bowl. Looking out into the dark, moonless sky, the young man saw a falling star and made his wish. He wished with every fiber of his being, probably harder than anyone in the entire history of wishing.

In the morning, the teen woke up in the same life from yesterday. But, soon enough, he underwent a remarkable series of changes. In the course of a few months, his voice dropped three octaves, his acne cleared up, and his height shot past six feet. He grew wider as well as taller. Lance's shoulders grew so broad that those golf shirts no longer fit. After ripping the sleeve of a T-shirt while trying to put it on, he switched exclusively to cut-offs that showed off his boulder-bulging biceps.

Lance remembered the first time he hit the high school weight room as if it were yesterday. The teen walked up to the nearest bench, lay down on the foam-rubber padding and started cranking out reps. A few seconds later, an alarmed football coach ran over to stop him. No one in their right minds lifted 300 pounds without a spotter. Suffice to say, Lance made the varsity team without even a try-out.

Meanwhile, hIs growth spurt happened so quickly that his father sent him to a medical specialist for an examination. According to the doctor, Lance possessed a rare genetic condition known as "myostatin-related muscle hypertrophy" that caused reduced body fat and increased skeletal muscle size. As a result, he was becoming bigger, stronger, and faster than any other teen on the planet.

While this diagnosis provided a scientific explanation for his metamorphosis, Lance still believed "the wish" had transformed him. During that period, he also enjoyed a more intimate but no less phenomenal blessing. His dick was growing bigger and bigger and bigger! Every time he jacked off (now with both hands), Lance kept a measuring tape at hand to mark his progress. He knew it was no coincidence that the lost e-book dedicated so much time to describing the hero's penis. Every sex scene detailed how much pleasure his lovers experienced from Samson's "flaming thunderbolt of virility."

Losing his virginity had been easy. Lance just approached the tallest, hottest, sluttiest senior at his high school and propositioned her. Angela blushed but wrote her phone number on a scrap of paper. That night, they drove to Lover's Lane and she spread her legs for him on the hood of her BMW convertible. When Lance dropped his drawers, his lover dropped her jaw.

Indeed, Lance had gotten one of those boners that a guy remembers for a lifetime. It felt like a giant steel girder between his legs. Clearly, an eager and horny female turned him on a lot more than his hand.

"How big are you?!" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered with a disingenuous grin. "You got a ruler?"

Angela slid off the hood and rummaged through her bookbag and found one of those plastic mini-rulers used in geometry class. She held the six-inch ruler up to his dick but his member easily outsized it.

"Looks like we're gonna need a bigger ruler," he chuckled. Angela happened to have a tape measure in her glove compartment. He held her hold the tape at the base but she couldn't read the measurement in the dark.

"Where's my phone?" she asked herself. "I need a light for this."

Angela fished her phone out of her purse and clicked on the flashlight. She focused, and stretched the tape measure all the way to the tip.

"HOLY FUCK!" she blurted out. "You're eight and a half inches, baby! Oh, my god, you've got a porn star cock."

Lance wasn't unaware of this fact. The teen already watched more than enough porn to know he out-measured most of the male actors in the business. However, he kept his mouth shut and basked in her adoration.

Angela measured him again just to make sure: "Your big cock is eight and a half fucking inches long! I can't fucking believe it."

"Well, you know what they say," Lance beamed. "Feeling is believing."

With a gleeful giggle, Angela lay down on the hood of the BMW again and spread her legs even wider than before. Lance could see her big titties heaving with anticipation under her sweatshirt. He could not believe how easy this was going to be. The most difficult part involved the condom. Lance bought a box of Magnum XL's but they still barely fit his massive tool.

After a half-hour of heart-pounding mish, Lance lay down on the hood and let Angela hop on top. The girl rode his dick like a seasoned porn starlet while chanting "eight and a half inches.... eight and a half inches... eight and a half inches..." She even grabbed her navel to feel how deep his organ speared into her body.

A guy's first time usually became an exercise in humility. The dude blew his wad in two minutes flat and left his lady unbearably underwhelmed. Lance was not that dude. The virgin stud performed an all-night love marathon. They tried dozens of positions, including some highly advanced ones that other guys never dared attempt.

The teenage bodybuilder was so strong that he impulsively lifted his partner up off the hood of the car in the middle of their fuck. Angela instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles behind the small of his back. With his powerful forearms undergirding her thighs, Lance bore her entire weight but she seemed surprisingly light, not much heavier than one of the dumbbells in the gym. Without breaking a sweat, he began to bang her in mid-air, bouncing her body up and down on his cock like his personal fucktoy.

The thing he remembered most was Angela's face. The subtle changes in her expression that signaled an imminent climax. The way her breath hitched when his prick bottomed out in her pussy. How she bit her lip when he shifted her weight in his arms so he could get a better angle and lift her up higher.

"Jesus Christ," she gasped in delighted astonishment. "You're carryfucking me! How is that even possible?"

Carryfucking. Lance recalled the term from the book about Samson. The mighty barbarian "carryfucked" all the wenches he seduced. Lance caught his reflection in the windshield of her BMW, noting the flex of his guns as he tirelessly hoisted her up and down. The sight caused his whole body to shiver with ego-buzzing excitement.

Suddenly, a surge of lust roared through his loins, the likes of which he never experienced. Lance wanted to come and he wanted it NOW. The human juggernaut whipped her body up and down his pole as if she were on some kind of out-of-control carnival ride. Angela's passionate moans and cries soared in pitch and volume. The pleasure sounds made the situation even hotter. Lover's Lane was isolated but not that isolated. A cop car probably could hear her screams from a half-mile away. Before tonight, the risk of getting caught might have scared Lance. But now the danger turned him on.

"COME ON MY BIG DICK, BABE!!!" boomed the teenage superstud, his growling baritone echoing into the valley below their trysting spot. Lance later told Sandra that the words had left his mouth before he even thought of uttering them. And that was the moment when he realized his wish had not just altered him physically. His personality and identity had changed. He inherited the reckless spirit of a barbarian playboy that reputedly slept with over 5000 women.

5000 women. Lance made no secret of his decadent ambitions when Sandra asked him about their future. He wanted to possess as many mates as possible. By his reckoning, she would have been his 119th conquest since he lost his virginity to Angela the previous year. Sandra wanted to hate him for that. The ladykiller made her feel like yet another notch on his towering bedpost.

At the same time, Sandra also craved a bad boy with a big dick. And what he lacked in loyalty, Lance made up for in breathtaking prowess and virility. The rakish brute fucked her with a mix of aggression and passion that no other male could hope to match. Sandra could not resist the undeniably powerful feelings he evoked, pleasures that surged through her body with such dizzying and enticing force that she could not think straight.

Even though his bizarre tale about Samson and the lost e-novel smacked of delusion, a part of her believed him. Both in and out of the bedroom, Lance displayed nearly superhuman attributes and abilities. What other teen could run a four-minute mile, bench 400 pounds, and have sex for eight hours in a row? Sandra's pussy could not help but gush at the thought of him kicking the shit out of a whole biker gang with his bare fists or satisfying those 118 women that preceded her.

Despite being her own woman, Sandra secretly dreamed of being the consort of a warrior stud. She knew herself to be strong but she desired someone yet stronger, a champion cocksman worthy of claiming her exalted womanhood. But, of course, he not only wanted to claim Sandra. He wanted an entire harem. Lance believed that to be Samson's birthright and the notion filled her with panic, fury, and envy. She found herself presented with an impossible choice between physical ecstasy and self-respect.

Because neither lover could conquer the other, the couple reached a stalemate of constant fucking and fighting. They loved and hated each other. Their tempestuous relationship went on like this until a third party slashed the Gordian knot of Sandra's conflicted emotions. Her name was Kagney. She and Sandra had an affair under Lance's nose before deciding to invite him to join their girlfun. The three of them quickly became an open throuple and sparked much gossip within the local stripper community. Kagney soon decided to go her own way but Lance's horsecock had left the barn. He loved threesomes and so did Sandra. The two of them formed an illicit alliance, tandem hunting unicorns for group sex.

BACK IN THE PRESENT

"AUNNGGH!" grunted Sandra, head slamming against the mattress so hard that stars flashed before her eyes, as Lance pushed his fuckhammer into her tight, dripping snatch. Despite his enormous size, she felt no pain as he stretched her open, the familiar discomfort washed aside by massive waves of mind-blasting pleasure. The temptress let out a choked gasp as her body rebelled against any effort at self-control. Lance felt his girlfriend's ass fly off the bed, her hips instinctively bucking against his own as she impaled herself on his massive tool.

"I'm coming!" she squeaked as Lance picked up the pace, fucking her hard and fast enough to trigger an impressive series of squirting orgasms. Jets of girly cum splattered against his chest until she collapsed in a limp tangle of limbs, eyes crossed and tongue lolling out foolishly. Melissa barely recognized Sandra in her present condition. The hot mess of a woman no longer resembled the smooth-talking femme fatale that seduced her at the strip club.

With a low growl, Lance slowly knelt up in a lewd crouch. He wasn't finished with her. The rakish brute grabbed both of Sandra's ankles and pushed them back towards her head, twisting her body like a pretzel. She had a lithe dancer's body and contorted herself with practiced ease. The hysterical female's moans and gasps deepened as Lance nailed her in this primal mating press position. She was completely pinned beneath the massively muscled manbeast who used the full weight of his body to pound her. The whole bed shook with each thrust. Even the wooden floorboards beneath the mattress groaned from his hammering hips.