Secret Superpower #05: Cock Fight

Sometimes I think my superpower consists simply in being in the right place at the right time, and I'm just a dirty-minded SOB who knows how to take advantage of circumstances. At other times I know for certain it's real but I don't understand what it's trying to tell me. Take for example the other day.

I'd parked my car on a residential street a couple of blocks from a suburban downtown where I was doing some business. It was a trendy town with impossible parking, but I found myself passing up spots because my superpower told me to keep looking. It finally let me park several blocks away and I has to hike to my meeting.

I was just walking back to my car afterwards when I heard shouting. A man and a woman were yelling at each other. I got to my car and was unlocking it when I heard a scream come from behind the high hedges that bordered the house I'd parked in front of. Of course I had to investigate. The scream was a woman's. My superpower twitched. I thought perhaps it was summoning me to come to her aid. I peeked around the hedges.

Within the small front yard was a gray shingled house with a large picture window. I could see through the picture window a man and a woman arguing. I watched, wanting to make sure no violence occurred. I'm not a superhero but basically I'm a nice guy. The woman was small and what they call zaftig— not my type— but she had a sweet face. Although I couldn't make out all the words, it seemed she was being berated by the man, presumably her husband, in the vilest way. He was an average-looking guy, maybe balding prematurely, maybe fit for his age. He accused her of being unfaithful with someone whose name I didn't catch, but he raised his voice enough to detail for the neighborhood all sorts of nasty things with other men he mentioned. She didn't deny the accusations, instead insulting his sexual skills. He repeated and embellished his statements. Both of them were hot tempered types. I wondered if I should call 911. I was afraid they would start a fistfight.

Instead, the woman walked angrily away. A second later the front door opened.

"Okay, big man," came from the house, "If you believe I'm fucking every guy on the block and all your so-called friends, then I might as well!" She stepped out the door and saw me standing in the walkway.

"Hey, Honey!" she called back. "Here's my date now!"

She walked right up and kissed me. Maybe she liked my suit. She turned to make sure hubby was watching, then kissed me again. Hubby cursed her through the window for a slut.

"If that's what you think I am!" She fondled my crotch. My balls, sure enough, were twitching. "Oh, he's hot for me, Honey! Want to watch me fuck him in the front yard?"

Hubby went crazy. I thought he might break the window glass, he was pounding his fists against it so hard. She cackled. But then, when he ran out of view, she started running, faster than I would have thought, around the house. He raced out the front door and down the steps.

He paused to shake his fist at me. "You stay away from my damned woman!" he yelled at me, then went after her around the house.

All was quiet for a minute or two. I thought they must have settled down and made up, or perhaps he'd caught her and strangled her. In any case, it seemed a good time to leave.

But then she reappeared at the front door. There was a gleam in her eye. "Hey, come here," she said in a low voice. I went to her. My thoughts were still about preventing a domestic disturbance, but my balls were twitching like crazy. She took my hand and led me inside. It was a typical suburban house, at least from the entry way. Family pictures on the walls. Knickknacks, flowered wallpaper. She closed and locked the door.

"Come on. He's locked out."

She led me to the living room and resumed kissing me and rubbing my crotch. She was a pretty good kisser, with big soft lips and cheeks like a baby's bottom. I wondered where this little scene was leading. She stopped just as I was getting hard. She looked around. In fact, she left me standing in the middle of the living room while she peeked out of windows. Then hubby reappeared in the front yard.

"Hah hah, little man, look what I brought home!" she shouted at him, and resumed kissing and fondling me. Hubby tried the front door, kicked it, then returned to the show she was putting on. When I was fully hard she unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock.

"Whoa, look what I found! Hey, little man, do you see this? Now this is a cock, a real one, not that spaghetti noodle you have." She wiggled it at him, and dragged me by it over to the window. He continued cursing her, calling her slut, whore, and worse.

"A slut? A whore? Is that what you think? Is that why you came back from work in the middle of the day, to see me selling myself? Okay, you caught me." She turned to me. She fluffed her big hair and shook her bigger tits. "Hi, handsome, wanna have some fun?"

"Sure." I'd begun to understand the scene. And why my superpower had brought me here. Yay superpower.

"It'll cost ya."

"That's okay. You don't look expensive."

She cackled again. "See anything you like? Just name it, I do it."

She wiggled her ample ass, but it didn't do anything for me. Those lips, however, were intriguing. I fished a ten from my pocket. I never pay for sex (never have to), but this seemed to be an exception. "Give me some head."

"Hey, Sweetie Pie, look what he gave me!" She waved the bill in front of him. "And you know what he wants?" She sank to her knees in front of me. She folded the bill and put it between her breasts, then pulled my cock to her mouth. But she didn't start doing me. Of course not. She turned to the window. Hubby was right there, standing in the flower bed, his eyes on fire, his hands pressed against the glass, which was the only thing preventing him from punching me. Or her. "He wants what you never get! And I'm going to give it to him. The customer is always right, isn't that what you say at the store? And his dick is so nice! I'm really going to enjoy this. Mm." She opened her mouth to take me in, then stopped. "What's that, dear? I'm a cheap whore? You're right, I am." She slid the tenner from her cleavage. "Honey Pie, do you have change?"

I won't bother relating his answer. She got up, patting my rod. "You just wait right there, sir. I'll be right back. Let's see." She searched the living room while I stood with my cock sticking out of my pants, right in front of her husband. I expected him to start on me but, no, he didn't even see me. He had eyes only for his chubby spouse as she crossed the room.

She was back in a minute holding a man's wallet. "Lookie, dear, see what I found." Cries of thief, etc., penetrated the glass. She knelt down, took a five from the wallet, and stuffed it in my pants. "There. That's fair, isn't it?"

"Depends on how good a cocksucker you are."

"Baby Pie, he wants to know if I'm a good cocksucker! Could you tell him? No, I guess you couldn't. But I can tell you," she said to me as she ran her hand up and down on my meat, "When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm bad—" she glanced to the window to make sure hubby was paying attention, then slowly, with her eyes bouncing between me and our audience, pulled my cock into her wide open mouth.

Oh those lips! I'd stayed away from overweight women, had turned down several who'd offered various enjoyments. But one slide between this woman's made me realize I'd been too harsh in my judgment. If that sweet face was a big sexual dessert, an erotic puff pastry, then those lips were pure feminine whipped cream. And her tongue! It was long, spacious enough to wrap most of the way around my cockhead; and she stuck it way out to slurp my cock, making damn sure Sweetie Pie in the shrubbery saw her paint every square centimeter of my pole with her spit.

Speaking of hubby, he'd fallen to his knees in the topsoil along with his cuckolding wife, trousers bulging, mouth agape and, thankfully, no longer spouting obscenities. For a few blessed minutes the only sounds were the wet smacks of her oral service. If she went after food the way she went for my tube steak, I understood how she got to her present physical state. As for hubby, he was close enough to the action that he could have counted how many of his wife's taste buds touched my genitals. Maybe she'd been telling the truth when she'd proclaimed that she never gave him head.

"Ooh, it tastes so good, honey!" She turned to face him as she chewed up and down on my cock, grinning as she showed him how much she relished her snack, pushing inches of me into her roomy cheeks and all around her capacious mouth. She took me deep finally, and squeegeed me of her saliva. "I can't take money for sucking this dick. It's too delicious." She got out another five and pushed that bill in my pocket. "In fact, it's worth paying for." She got out a twenty now from hubby's wallet and showed it to him. That got him started with the verbal assaults again. I guess money played an important part in their relationship. She stuffed that in my waistband.

Having found how to stimulate her husband, she settled down for some serious cocksucking. She was pretty good. Nice mouth for fellatio and a great tongue, endless in its lapping and tickling. Maybe she didn't do her husband, but mine was not the first male organ that tongue had tasted. I would have had a hard time holding off, except for the rhythm-breaking soliloquy she pronounced between sucks:

"So delicious!"

"Oh, baby, I can taste it, I hope he has a big load."

"Mm, it feels so good way down there."

And so on. I wanted to tell her to shut up and open her mouth, but at this point she was the customer, and I remembered what hubby had told her about customers. Of course, they also say it pays to advertise.

"If you think my cock tastes good, you might want to try my balls."

"Hmm," she said.

She didn't jump at it. Not a real connoisseur, I guess. I came up with a way to make them tastier. "Five bucks a testicle."

"Oh Honey, he says I can lick his balls for five dollars each. What a bargain. I can't resist." Another ten into my pants, and out popped the family jewels. Of course she made a display of it, lapping my eggs with that beautiful tongue like a horse eating a sugar cube. "What delicious balls, Honey. Much nicer than your dried up little marbles." Soon my testicles were soaking. She gave my cock a few swipes to wet it down again. "Do you have anything else for sale?"

"Yes, but it's very costly."

She waved the wallet. "No problem. What is it?"

"My come."

"Oh wow. Honey, he's going to sell me his come! Yum! Hot?"

"You can suck it out yourself."

"How much?"

"How much do you have?"

She took all the money from her husband's wallet and fanned it in front of me. That really got him going. I saw a fifty, several twenties, and change. "Is that enough?"

"I'm afraid not. My come is very special. Slimy and lots of it."

"Honey Pie, do you have any more money? Please, I really want his come." She looked again in his wallet. "Do you take plastic?"

"Not this cock."

"Can I work it off?" She wiggle again.

"Show me those tits."

She opened her blouse and unhooked her bra. Out popped enough flesh to make Dolly Parton envious. Didn't sag too much either.

"Okay, since I'm in a generous mood. You can suck me off."

"Yippee!" She wadded up the bills and stuffed them into my pants pocket, now crumpled on the floor. Then she began some good, professional quality fellatio that quickly had me on the verge. But again she ruined the rhythm with, "Honey Pie, watch me get a mouthful!" She turned to him. Their faces were inches apart across the glass, and I was bumping against it as she wanked my meat in and out of her cheek, a sideways blowjob. Hubby must have had trouble seeing everything because his breath was fogging up the glass so much.

Enough was enough. Time to take control. I grabbed her head by her puffed up hair and twisted it toward me.

"Oh, I think he wants me— mmph!"

I shoved my cock down her throat and pistoned it in and out, fucking her fleshy face. Actions speak louder than words. She tried to say something but it only opened her wider for a deeper penetration. She made choking sounds and weakly pushed against my legs, but soon gave herself up to the inevitable. Her eyes went to me momentarily, then to her husband, who was studying his wife like a lawyer reading the fine print as she kissed my balls the hard way.

"Get ready," I warned. I pulled out of her throat and started rapid thrusts of my cockhead between her lips. She moaned and tried to pulled me back down her gullet, finally getting into cocksucking, but I refused, so she settled for madly licking with that great tongue of hers. That did it. I turned her half towards our audience of one, since it was his money, and with a loud theatrical grunt spewed a big wad of my white product across her lips. With the first spurt she tried like hell to swallow me whole, but I wanted to spray on those big red lips, so it was a contest. I got off a couple of messy ones that creamed her mouth and chin, and in our struggle sprayed a shot on the glass right in front of hubby, who jumped back as if he'd been stung, but eventually she prevailed and the rest of my load became her dessert.

When she finally let me softy fall out of her mouth she was quite a sight. Come dripped down her chin and onto her spacious tits, as if she'd drunk it out of a dribble glass. She licked all around. Interestingly, she did not resume her blabbing. I guess that was a compliment to me.

Hubby, however, resumed his slutting and whoring with redoubled vehemence. She just smiled and kept licking. She wiped drips from her breasts and licked her fingers. He jumped up, livid. No longer preoccupied with his wife's mouth, he was beginning to worry me. He was mad enough I thought he might come right through the window. Instead he turned and ran around the house.

Wifey came alert. "You better go," she said. She gave my cock one last lick, cleaning up some ooze. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," I said. Pounding came from the back of the house, then a cracking sound. I went out the front.

As I walked down the path, zipping up, I heard another scream. Looking back, there was my fellatrix, on her hands and knees, her pants down; and behind her was hubby, fiercely cursing her and just as fiercely pounding her ample fundament. To each his own. Was he doing her cunt or her ass? With so much territory back there, it was hard to tell. She smiled at me between screams and blew me a kiss. She turned backed to hubby and said something, then crawled up to the window, him in tow, and started licking up the cream I'd sprayed on it. I wouldn't have thought he could yell louder, but he did; and he pushed her head down to the floor, pulled out, and rammed her backside up higher. They both screamed. Okay, it was pussy before. I left the happy couple and returned to my car.

Inside, I rearranged my equipment, fished the bills from my pants, and counted them. Not bad. I'd made about a hundred and fifty dollars from that blowjob. I briefly considered slipping the bills into their mailbox. I didn't need their money. But that might have ruined things. From the screeching duet they continued, I guess they got their money's worth. No, it wasn't the first time I'd been paid for oral stud service. In fact, back in high school . . . but that's another story.