When Lance Dumped Sandra Pt. 01

NOTE: For those of you joining us for the first time, this story is a vignette from Rubirosa's series "C*ck Star." The chronicle focuses upon the private life of a public figure.

As the most accomplished porn star of modern times, SAMSON lives out popular male sex fantasies on a daily basis. This story recounts our hero's youthful exploits as a lusty high school gigolo and championship bodybuilder by the name of LANCE LEO.

Lance has just turned 18. Like many seniors at Peoria Tech, he plays football, smokes pot, and dates cheerleaders. He listens to hip-hop but prefers heavy metal bands. He scored in the 38^thpercentile on his SAT's. His GPA hovers just below a 2.3. Lance wears Magnum XL condoms and is able to sleep with any woman he desires.

Only one female can tame him. High school valedictorian and martial arts enthusiast SANDRA KONG will stop at nothing to win his heart.

This is their story.

*****

The parking lot of the Peoria Mall had emptied many hours ago. Only a lone motorcycle and windowless cargo van remained upon the vast expanse of asphalt. The Chevy Astro violently rocked on its rear shocks. Its windows had fogged up not just from the chilly air but the debauchery that unfolded inside the storage area.

"Fuck me, Lance," moaned the girl under her breath.

The teen stud lay on his back as the slim-and-stacked siren slid her hot, moist twat up and down the length of his rock-hard fuck club. Sandra's strong but graceful arms braced themselves against his broad, muscular chest for support as the vixen rode the well-hung playboy. She jammed her eyes shut with determination, straining to reach her crescendo.

"Come for me, babe," he urged her in his commanding baritone. "Just one more time."

Lance grasped her by the hips to guide her thrusts as she impaled herself on his power tool. The dude had a magic touch. He could kick-start her heart to 150 bpm. A kiss from his lips made her clit twitch with desire. And now his steady hands piloted her body towards another bone-shattering orgasm.

With other guys, Sandra had to take the initiative if she wanted to get her rocks off. The jezebel had no qualms about telling someone else what to do in bed but sex often became a matter of masturbating with another partner's body. However, Lance was able to make her come. He played Ms. Kong like a virtuoso with his studly trifecta of size, skill, and stamina.

She almost regretted how good Lance made her feel. He introduced Sandra to a new standard of pleasure that no other man could hope to match. Some guys might whisper nice things into her ear. Others might send texts with emoji hearts. A few might even send her flowers. But she wasn't going to put out for them. Not in a million fucking years. Like it or not, she wanted a bad boy with a big cock.

Lance watched his lover's face light up as she climaxed. Damn, Sandra looked hot. She might have been the foxiest chick that ever rode his cock. Her veins flowed with a hot mix of African and Asian blood. The biracial temptress bore a striking resemblance with Zoe Saldana with only one major difference. Sandra wore a 32F bra. Lance spotted the label when he unhooked it a few hours ago. The horny teen had to pinch himself. He only banged babes like that in his wet dreams.

Sandra Kong wasn't the usual kind of girl Lance hooked up with. She didn't smoke or drink. Her GPA put the senior at the top of her class. She even read books for fun! Lance didn't understand a lot of the highfalutin' words that flowed out of her mouth. She sounded like the vocabulary section of the SAT.

However, that didn't particularly concern him.

It didn't matter which clique a chick belonged to. Or what photo she posted on Instagram last week. Or whether she voted for Trump. Or which bands appeared on her Spotify playlist. Lance had discovered that sex was the great equalizer.

When a man and woman took off their clothes, the couple also shed the cultural barriers that kept people apart.

They reverted to a primal and joyful state of being that existed eons before civilization and its discontents. Instead of judgment and labels, the lovers were guided by instinct and attraction.

Aside from a stellar career in football and bodybuilding, Lance had not done much to distinguish himself as an 18-year old high school senior. Tonight's 'date' with Sandra initially had been organized so she could tutor the failing student in remedial algebra. Despite his lackluster prospects after graduation, the teen felt pretty damn good about himself. Most guys would have sold their souls to be "Lucky Lance Leo" as the girls called him affectionately.

To put it mildly, he enjoyed a bitchin' sex life. While most adolescents struggled with dating during puberty, Lance dove into the hookup pool headfirst. Even back during freshman year, the budding Lothario exclusively squired seniors and always scored a home run on the first date. Making the varsity team as an underclassman had helped. The star quarterback broke the school record for touchdowns and interceptions. Rumor had it that he also earned the distinction of seducing every single member of the cheerleading squad all four years of high school.

And now that he was 18 and legal, his options had multiplied. Lance graduated to sorority chicks, exotic dancers, personal trainers, MILF's, and anyone else who swiped him right on Tinder. His love life recalled the famous line from Tony Montana in Scarface: "This town's like one big pussy, waiting to get fucked."

Sandra collapsed on top of his broad chest. She buried her face in the hollow of his neck and shoulder, still panting from her crescendo. His big hands glided down her bare back and gave her butt a flirtatious squeeze. She felt small and a bit helpless in his arms. Sandra might have stood 5'10" in heels but Lance towered above her at 6'6." The bodybuilder's massive frame occupied most of the queen-sized mattress that lined the storage area of her van. Outfitting her Chevy Astro as a mobile bedroom had been a wise move. They wouldn't have been able to do much in the back of a Mini Cooper.

"You wanna go another round, babe?" he asked her.

Ugh... Babe. She hated how Lance called her that. This dude was so fucking hot until he opened his mouth. But while her brain recoiled from him, her body floated in a sea of oxytocin and dopamine. Though some guys reputedly thought with their dicks, Sandra had thought with her pussy tonight.

She could still feel him throbbing inside of her. In the past four hours, he had gone through half a box of Magnum XL's and remained hard as a rock. The last guy she'd been with couldn't last five minutes. She opened the back door to her van and literally kicked him to the curb after his misfire.

"Wanna toke?" Lance inquired before reaching for his discarded pair of jeans. He fished out a lighter and a nicely rolled spliff from the back pocket. The air became thick with smoke as the teen inhaled a mighty lungful of weed.

Sandra glanced up at the digital clock on the dash. It read 3:09. She considered asking him to leave but didn't. An unfamiliar but pleasing sense of tranquility had enveloped her body and muted her thoughts. She wound her arms around his muscle-bound torso and clung to him like a tiny silver earring glued against a 10,000-pound magnet.

**

Sandra woke with a harsh cough. A thick haze of marijuana smoke filled the van. Lance lay next to her and ashed his joint into an empty Coke can he found on the floor. She glanced over at him.

"Nothing like a good 'wake-and-bake'," he told her with an idiotic smile.

Sandra got her bearings. The windshield had frosted up overnight. That afforded them a bit of privacy. But she heard early morning traffic outside. That wasn't good. The clock read 8:15. Fuck. Sandra had an AP History test at 9:00.

Lance watched her get dressed as he finished off his roach.

"What's the hurry, babe?"

"Class is in 45 minutes."

"It's a Friday. Let's just skip."

"You can do whatever you want," Sandra muttered as she tossed him his shirt and jeans.

"Aw c'mon," he pleaded. "I got a major case of morning wood."

That did it.

"Get out," she told him quietly.

"Huh?"

"Out!"

Lance hadn't expected her outburst. They had a pretty fun time last night. But what could he do? The teen slipped on his socks, shoes, shirt, and jeans. By the time he zipped up his leather jacket, Sandra already had gotten into the driver's seat to start up the van. Lance opened the back door and hopped out. She did not even say goodbye.

The van sped out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. Lance hopped on his Harley. He reached for his keys. They weren't in his front pocket. He tried his back pockets. No dice. He checked his jacket. FUCK! Now Lance would have to call Sandra to look for his keys. He frantically patted himself down in search of his smartphone. Lance probably left that in the van as well. Friday looked to be a shit day.

Peoria might have been a small town but not in the geographic sense. His pad was a long-ass walk from the mall. Like five miles. He didn't have enough change in his pocket to use the bus either. Lance made his way along the shoulder of a four-lane highway. A November drizzle began. Cars and trucks whizzed by. Lance shivered in the cold. He had heard the term "walk of shame" but hadn't really experienced it until today.

After a freezing half-hour trek, a Range Rover pulled to the side of the road a dozen yards in front of him. The driver side window unrolled and a cute teen waved him over.

"Need a lift?" she asked. He smiled and hopped inside the SUV.

Lance checked her out. She dyed her hair pink. The color complimented her pale white skin and purple lipstick. She wore a pair of gray skinny jeans and a vintage Nirvana sweatshirt. As with any woman, he imagined her in the nude. She probably measured 38-25-36 by his estimation. No, the chick was no Sandra Kong. But that hadn't gone too well this morning anyway.

"Where's your Harley?" asked the girl. She seemed to know him. On the other hand, Lance drew a blank. If the girl attended Peoria Tech, he surely would have fucked her by now and learned her name in the process.

"Oona," the blonde told him finally, extending a manicured hand in his direction.

"Enchanté," Lance answered smoothly before kissing it.

"You dated my cousin Claire."

Actually, Lance didn't date her cousin. He banged her a bunch of times. He never went steady with any of the cheerleaders at high school. In any case, they had enjoyed each other's company quite a bit.

"How is she doing?" he asked.

"Claire's graduating U. of I. next year."

Oona started the car.

"So where am I taking you?"

"That's a tricky question. I lost my keys last night. I think I left them in this chick's van."

Oona cracked a grin. Her cousin had stories about this guy. A lot of stories...

"Why don't you call her?"

"I left my phone in her van too."

"You want me to call her on my phone?"

"No!" he said a little more emphatically than intended. "I'll just find her at school today. To be honest, all I want right now is a hot shower. It was freezing out there."

Oona made a U-turn.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"My place. I think we might have a shower there."

Lance played it cool. He barely knew this girl. Maybe she just felt sorry for him.

Five minutes later, the SUV pulled into the driveway of a non-descript suburban home. Oona clicked the button to open the garage door and pulled inside. The two-car garage looked empty. No cars meant no parents at home.

The teen's bedroom had its own bathroom. Oona gave him clean towels and left. She heard him switch on the water. Her mind raced. Behind the door to her bathroom, Lucky Lance Leo was lathering up his huge muscles. The heartthrob had been staring at her from the moment he got in the SUV. No one had seen them come home. No one would ever know what happened. She had maybe ten minutes to make a decision.

With extreme care, Oona cracked open the door to the bathroom. Steam billowed into her face. He must have really cranked up the hot water. She peeked inside. Her vantage point afforded a direct view of the shower stall. Lance stood with his back to the door and didn't see her. She bit her lip. Was she crazy? Yeah, she probably was.

The door to the shower obscured him. Even so, she could see the outline of his supersized build behind the frosted glass. Lance's torso flared out in a dramatic V that bodybuilders spent a lifetime to attain. His statuesque legs were planted to the floor in a wide stance that revealed the most notorious detail of his anatomy. Even with his back to her, Lance was so well hung that she could see his limp dong dangling low between his thighs.

The human stallion briefly lifted up his organ to rinse off his balls. He let go a moment later and it struck his thigh with a meaty slap. She couldn't help but gawk at his miraculous manhood as the flesh pendulum swung to and fro. Guys made too big a deal about their size but Oona appreciated the allure. Big cocks were sexy. Her cousin couldn't stop talking about how much she loved his unit.

Oona walked into the bathroom while Lance scrubbed himself down. He didn't notice her. Working up her nerve, she slid open the door to the shower.

"Hey," Oona greeted him. Lance turned around in all his naked glory. Now that the young lady had his full attention, another problem arose. Oona hadn't thought what to say or do next.

"You need some help washing up?" she asked him finally.

"Sure," he smiled, not sounding too surprised by her appearance. "But you might want to take off your sweatshirt first."

Oona stood just outside the cone-shaped spray of the high-pressure showerhead. She forgot about getting undressed. Her clothes were getting drenched. Meanwhile, Lance rinsed his hair.

"Do you have any conditioner?" he asked.

"Huh?" She needed a moment to process his question.

"Like for my hair."

Oona found a new bottle by the sink and handed it to him. He squirted out a big dollop into his palm and applied the conditioner to his wet mane of long hair. She dug Lance's look big time. She heard he played starting quarterback for the Peoria Panthers but his heavy metal hairstyle defied the jock stereotype. It announced a natural born rebel. He clearly did whatever he wanted. And with whomever he wanted.

Lance shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She got an eyeful of his outrageously muscular physique as he toweled himself off. Truth be told, Oona favored lankier men. That didn't mean she wasn't curious. His body was sort of like a Ferrari. She never thought about driving one but wouldn't refuse a chance if the opportunity arose.

"Got a brush?" he asked. She handed him a wide-tooth comb and he began to comb out the tangles in his long hair. His casual nudity disarmed her. It put Oona in the unfamiliar, though not unwanted, position of objectifying a desirable male.

"So what did your cousin tell you about me?" he asked while continuing to brush his hair. Lance posed a loaded question. He knew she knew intimate details about him that could not be uttered in polite company. But lying would make her look ridiculous.

"She said you're easy," she responded provocatively.

"Like easy to get along with?"

"Nope," she smiled. "Just easy."

Lance smiled back and looked down at himself.

"Actually, it looks pretty hard."

Indeed. The teen stud sported a raging erection. He looked back up at Oona.

"Why are you smiling?" she laughed.

Lance loved his life. The high school Lothario never knew whose bedroom he would land in next.

"Would you like to touch it?" he asked.

Oona felt no fear with him. He might have been forward but not aggressive. It wasn't just that Lance had a big dick. He had big dick energy. The teen seemed quite self-assured but not in an obnoxious way. She reached out and traced her fingernail along the length of his massive shaft. The organ lurched upward in response and her hand instinctively pulled away.

"Relax, Oona," he told her quietly. "It won't bite."

She reached out and grasped his forearm of a phallus. He felt different than most guys. The organ throbbed in her grip, surging with excitement. It possessed substantial weight and mass. Oona had handled male genitalia on more than one occasion. She ended many dates with a farewell hand job. Oona didn't mind pleasing a dude like that but the act seemed like a chore. Though some of the guys were really cute, their weenies looked shriveled and a bit ridiculous.

Oona considered the penis to be the ugliest part of the male body. Until she saw Lance. He had a beautiful cock. Probably due to its frequent use, the ladykiller took excellent care of his equipment. His pubes were nicely manicured and his balls freshly shaven. Naturally, his exceptional size played a role as well. It turned her on not simply because bigger meant better. A champion bodybuilder deserved an equally impressive love muscle to match the rest of his physique.

"What do you think?" he inquired with a smirk that anticipated a compliment.

"I think you get what you want a little too easily," she negged.

"I do," he confessed. "What else?"

"I don't think you lift weights to compensate for anything," she told him honestly while continuing to fondle his erection.

"Yeah, it's more like I gotta work out so I can live up to what I have already."

"Poor guy," she sighed sarcastically. "C'mon..." With that, Oona led him into her bedroom by his cock.

15 MINUTES LATER

They ended up on her bed but Lance did not rush in the slightest. The two them alternatively joked and made out as the naked heartthrob slipped Oona out of her clothing one article at a time. He began with her socks, next her sweatshirt, and then her jeans. Lance proved a formidable kisser. Her toes curled whenever their lips made contact. His mouth dominated each exchange, leaving no doubt about his erotic intent.

His fingers dipped beneath of the hem of her T-shirt. He wanted to pull it off but wouldn't be able to do that without her help. She reached out and held his wrist. His hand made her hand look small in comparison.

"You're very large," she whispered, her eyes looking towards something else besides his hands.

"I am," he smiled.

"I don't know how to do very much," she told him almost apologetically. "I'm not like my cousin."

Claire had not been far from her thoughts. Oona's cousin told her a lot about Lance. Their fling had been a bit of a scandal back in the day. Lance played starting quarterback for the Peoria Panthers. Claire made varsity cheerleading squad for the Lakewood Tigers. She met him at an away game for her team. Leo had a good night. He scored the winning touchdown against the Tigers. Then he scored Claire.

Much as she liked him, their affair was doomed from the start. Most obviously, her cheerleading squad disapproved of "sleeping with the enemy." Even worse, Claire was already a senior on her way to college. She had no idea a freshman could be a varsity quarterback. The discovery quickly led to a hasty goodbye.

To say that Lance was an early bloomer would have been an understatement. When he was 14, he looked 18. And now that he was 18, he looked 25. Oona was his exact age but the teenage Lothario seemed much older. He had an air of experience that both excited and intimidated her.

After seducing so many females, Lance had become a quick study of human nature. He immediately grasped Oona's predicament. The girl might have been forward but that did not mean she prepared herself for where things might lead.