You Fuck'en Guys Ruined My Pussy

"I gotta be sure I widened you enough for that Mexican donkey. See, Missy Mary, it's not the length of a cock that will ruin you; it's the width."

"So that's what you all were doing to me, ruining my tight pussy with your fat dicks. I hate you!"

George was pleased. His empty ball sack, hanging slack, proved he'd done his damnedest to open her wide. He arose and stood over her, jerking the last spurts of sperm left in his cock shaft onto her tits and cheeks.

It wasn't pleasant for Mary, who felt George had stretched her vagina beyond a chance of revival. She had felt her flesh crack under the strain of his beer can penis's long sojourn inside her private parts.

"It's easier to take a long cock than a very wide one," she noted.

Having heard Georges's remark and Mary's answer, Otto leaned in over her bare midsection to see if any real damage was done to Mary's tender pussy. Witnessing the disaster of her torn labia and bloodied sperm soaked pubes, he slapped his hand to the side of his head and made a hideous face.

Otto said, "I'm done. That cunt ain't ever going to feel tight again," and sulked off.

Mary shouted after him, "This was your idea, asshole, you've ruined my pussy, and now you're going to have to live with it."

"Don't bet on that, you slut," shouted Otto, who disappeared down the stairway.

"Three down, one to go," said George, standing over her, jerking sperm droplets onto her hair.

"What the fuck are you doing, said Mary as a cum-glob hit her closed eyelid.

"You'll thank me after you wash up, cum is the best shampoo there is,"

said George.

"Then rub it in your own hair," said Mary.

Willie came forward and dropped his drawers. He wasn't

wearing any briefs, and his cock jumped up like a popinjay.

"How about a blow job," said Mary, hoping to bring this painful ordeal to rest. "

"We can start there," said Willie, "But if you can't make me cum, I gotta finish in your pussy."

Mary took a good look at his dick; it was circumcised and was an average 6 inches long but rigid, speckled, and textured like the bark on an oak tree.

Mary raised her body as Willie came closer. She leaned forward and took his dick in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his shaft, licking his frenulum while massaging his balls. Minutes passed, and Mary grew comfortable sucking Will's dick, pleased when the taste of precum leaked into her mouth.

"I can't go on," sighed George, "I gotta cum in yo puss, babe."

"Ok, Willie, your dick size is not a deal buster."

Mary began to recline when Willie said, "Turn over, Babe, I'm coming in the back way."

"Not in my ass?"

"No, in your pussy, just relax. I like the rear entry slipp'en and slide'en under your ass crack. Since my dick ain't too long, you gotta lift your butt so your vag lips can meet my dick."

By now, Mary was no longer protesting; she rolled over and reached back, taking his dick in her hand and guiding him into her newly oversized pussy, hardly even feeling him inside her.

"I feel like I'm fucking in a swimming pool of cum," said Will.

"Let me help," said Mary, and clenched his root tightly, fearing that otherwise he'd lose his erection, and they'd have to start over. With the aid of her tight index finger curled around the base of his cock shaft, Will began to make progress. Mary could feel the contractions in his codpiece but was anxious to get him finished and on his way.

Mary reached over his ass with the other hand and jammed her third finger in his tight asshole. Will let out a moan and then a high-pitched yodel and shot his load into her swollen cavity. When the hot cum hit her tender flesh, she climaxed. Her moment of ecstasy was brought on by the soothing pleasure of Willie's emission that eased the burning and made the events of the night bearable.

"This gentleman has a manageable penis," announced Mary to the guys present, in gratification for her climax and the end of her tribulation.

"Willie, any time you are horny, you've got a free fuck from me."

"What about Otto?" said Wil.

"He can go fuck himself!"

All this memory of thrills and anger filled Mary's mind; she reached under her skirt to rub her clit as nostalgic juices flowed into her enlarged pussy. After that evening, Mary's wounded cunt never returned to its previous diminutive size.

Otto went skiing during the winter vacation and broke a leg, a complex fracture that ended his collegian career. He dropped out of school months later and got a job working at Starbucks, making weak espresso.

Mary had a passing thought of Otto,

"That son of a bitch, he never spoke to me after that night, what a piece of shit he was, after I did what he asked and ended up with a pussy big enough to fuck a donkey. Months later, he calls me up for a date and asks for a blow job, saying my cunt was too stretched out to fit his dick. I hung up on him."

"Ok," said Portnoy, breaking Mary's trance, "Watch out! I will pass the long broken metal spring rod out the window bay.

Back to the business at hand...

Mary was not knowledgeable about the details of the handyman's job. She thought the spring would be a long spiral spring, similar to but much larger than what you see inside a ballpoint pen. Instead, the spring consisted of two long squared pieces of steel, painted black, slotted and laying neatly against each other with an internal spring holding them together.

"See, Ma'am, it's two sliding pieces with the spring inside. It locks into position when the door is raised."

"Ok," said Mary, "Good enough, let's go get the new pieces, and please pull up your pants; I've seen enough of your cock that I'm beginning to wonder what your balls look like."

"Sorry, Mama. They're kinda big and hairy down below," and the Doofus pulled his pants lower so Mary could see his big balls. He wasn't lying. Portnoy's balls were as big as tennis balls, and there was a lot of hair.

"Yeah, let's move out. There is no need to draw me a picture of your cock and balls. Every time I look at you, it's popping out. If I need a picture, I'll use my iPhone. Out of curiosity, Mr. Portnoy, do you ever use that big thing or jerk it off nightly?"

Well, ma'am, the widow lady had an 18-year-old niece, Missy Logan, who grew quite fond of playing hide the banana with old Ezra, if you know that game."

"Who the fuck is old Ezra?"

"That's the name I gave to my dick."

"Oh, nice to know; let's get on with this repair, Mr. Portnoy."

Once they had climbed out of the window, Mary started to feel more comfortable with Portnoy. Maybe it was the visual intimacy they shared, his dick and her tits. She neither feared nor was afraid of the big lug. She was getting used to him and maybe even beginning to like him.

Portnoy wasn't even embarrassed when he got a hard-on; he thought it was natural. Hell, his dick was as big as the biggest of the five guys she took on the night of the Harvest Ball. Well aware of how those guys had enlarged her pussy, she knew without a doubt that she could accommodate Portnoy's mastodon.

Now that Mary and Portnoy had secured the garage door spring, it was too late to drive to the Baller Hardware Store.

"Let's go tomorrow," said Mary.

"Yep," said Portnoy,

"It's getting dark," said the Prof's wife.

Portnoy got on his bicycle, waved goodbye, and pedaled a block away to his Mom's house. Mary returned to the old Professor.

Did the old guy ask Mary any questions?

Sure, he said, "What the fuck took you so long in the garage, were you giving him a blow job?

"You wish," said Mary, "For a cultured, educated man, you are disgusting."

"Yes, I'm an old horn dog with a dick that hardly functions. You should have known better than to marry an old guy like me."

"You ain't so bad, honey; with a few Viagra in your balls, you are still a wildcat. I remember at school when you locked the door and fucked me right on your desk.

How many other girls did you fuck on that desk?"

"Too many to even remember. You know my precocious dementia is kicking it about now, but I still recall your two sharp nipples poking through your t-shirt. I'll bet Portnoy had a boner the entire time he was out there with you."

"Don't be ridiculous; he was every bit a gentleman, although he is a bit on the slow side.

"Yeah, probably an I.Q. of 65. That dummkopf probably couldn't tell a cunt from a hole in a pickle barrel."

"Yes," said Mary, "You're probably right."

And then it slipped out.

"He may be a moron, but he's got a dick as big as a donkey."

The Professor knew the story of her gang rape from her reconstruction of what she'd endured. McGill, being a voyeur, was excited by the story, and even without his dose of Viagra, he could feel his dick chubbing up. Then he said something very cruel,

"Well, a donkey dick should suit you just fine."

That comment hurt Mary to no end, being very self-conscious of her deformity.

"You're going to pay for that, (she thought but said nothing) and never changed her expression.

The next day, around noon, Mary heard some steps on the porch and went to the front door to see Pornoy seated in the old rocking chair, whittling on a piece of tree limb covered with bark. It reminded her of Willie's ruvid-speckled penis. Before Portnoy looked up, she greeted him,

"Good morning, sir."

The 'sir' surprised him.

"Whatcha carving?"

"Oh, I'm just fooling around."

"Portnoy, we can go to the hardware store if you have time."

"Sure, whenever you are ready."

He looked full in her green eyes, which shone like beacons in the sunlight below her unwrinkled brow, framed by her long blond hair. Then his eyes wandered down to the white blouse, transparent when the sun lit it, and her two large braless breasts hung there like nude moons. He felt a pinch in his crotch as his penis swelled up against his rough jeans and then looked down, not wanting to offend."

"Let me get my jacket," said Mary.

"It's warm out here. The sun lights the whole place up."

Unaware of her blouse's transparency, Mary stepped back into the doorway, grabbing her tan leather jacket off the antler's clothes rack. She always hated that fixture the Professor had bought at the church bazaar, thinking, "It was very 'Connecticut,' if that was a word, and he should know."

Like many disturbing things Mary had experienced, she learned to ignore and move on. She didn't dwell on the reality that a deer hunter had contributed the antlers for the clothes rack. Perhaps someone had found the fallen horns in a field, taken them home, and made the rack. She knew that probably was not the case.

"Ok, Port," she had abbreviated his name, and in doing so, it seemed as if he was a different person, "Tally ho, let's go."

Looking younger than the day before, he'd even combed his hair. The big guy rose from the rocker. He'd put a yellow twine string through the belt loops of his jeans. Perhaps that would keep his pants up and cover his cock. When Mary saw the twine, she felt sad that the spectacle of his naked cock was over.

They walked down the driveway and got into the small Jeep. Portnoy sat quietly at her side. His erection had subsided, and she reached out and patted him on his lap, not realizing she'd set off another earthquake in his pants. She withdrew her hand when she sensed something moving and whistled, "Song Sung Blue." Portnoy joined in. They had hardly finished the second stanza when they arrived at the hardware store. Mary drove into the parking space, hitting the security log at the end of the space. The rapid stop jarred both of them.

"Sorry," she said under her breath.

"Don't make no never mind, that's what it's there for. "

And he was right; without the log, she might have driven inside the store.

.

"Could you get the spring, Mr. Portnoy?"

"Sure," obedient as a puppy dog, the big man grabbed the bar and followed her into the store up to the counter.

The clerk, who looked young enough to be the owner's son, greeted them. He remembered her and the sharp outline of her nipples piercing her pink blouse the day before.

"I see you got the bad boy."

Mary turned and saw Portnoy with the spring bar slung over his shoulder. It looked like he had stuffed something into his jeans pocket, but she had no idea, maybe a screwdriver or perhaps another hard-on. She steered him away from the girly magazine rack.

Portnoy handed a heavy bar to the clerk.

"If you follow me into the rear, we'll try to match up your spring."

"Thanks," said Mary.

At the back of the shop was a wooden cubby hole with garage springs of different lengths. After a few minutes, the clerk found the right one.

"One or two?"

"What do you mean?

'Do you want one or two springs? We advise you to change both of them; when one breaks, it's just a matter of time before the other follows suit."

"Sure, if you think it's best," said Mary.

"Once you get it swapped out, it's worth a few minutes more to have the security. When they break down unexpectedly, it locks up and causes trouble."

"How well we know that."

The clerk quickly found the second matching spring, and Mary and Portnoy followed him to the front counter.

"What do I owe you," said Mary.

"That will be $86," said the clerk.

Mary paid with a crisp 100-dollar bill.

Portnoy put the two springs on his shoulder.

"Can we leave the old one with you?" he said.

"Sure, we have a bin for scrap metal waiting to be recycled."

"Ok."

"Let me give you a piece of brown paper to lay the springs on in your car in case any grease leaks out."

Mary followed Portnoy to the car, where he had placed the paper over the worn rear seats and laid the two springs on top. They climbed in, and Mary put the Jeep into gear. With a puff of smoke, they both headed back to the garage. The Professor was not there to greet them. He was probably working on his opus maximus in his library, something about whalebone corsets in the 1850's.

Portnoy could lift the door high enough so he could scoot under it. He placed a piece of 2x4 under the door, and Mary deftly ducked her head and followed behind the giant.

Portnoy fiddled with his swollen pocket, and to Marie's relief, this time, it wasn't his hard-on but a large screwdriver that he pulled out of the pocket. Portnoy set to work to disengage the still functioning spring. While he was bent over completing the task, Mary, eager to see how it was done, pushed herself into the narrow space between the geometric levers attached to the wall and the spring rod. Portnoy could feel her body against his, reminding him of widow Hubbard's niece. With a few strong moves of his muscular arms, he dislodged the old spring, and the door, free of the spring's tension, gave an appreciative groan.

Portnoy slid the old spring bar out through the space under the door supported by the 2x4 and stood up, but due to his sudden action, even with his twine belt, his pants slipped, and by the light coming through the window, Mary saw once more the holy grail she'd longed for on more than one Saturday night when her elderly husband disappointedly tried to penetrate her large vagina, hardly filling the labial folds, his penis usually falling out before his moment of ejaculation. Sometimes he'd get lucky and leave a shot glass of cum juice inside, and often as not, he just rooted around until he got cold and fell asleep. As for satisfying his wife, he'd remember to diddle her if he stayed awake.

This time, Mary, still smarting from her husband's cruel remark, reached down and grabbed Portnoy's 'bad boy' with both hands. She'd grown fond of that Connecticut expression. She marveled as his penis swelled up instantly in her hands, and she heard Portnoy take a deep breath.

She leaned over, took the behemoth between her lips, and tasted the yeasty tang. The smell of raw cock had always excited her.

There on her knees, she nursed the cock until it reached its full zenith, and then with both hands, she reached out to grip the sides of his work jeans and pulled them down to his knees before leaning back against the curved hood of the Volva where she spread her legs wide, and pulled his big penis closer.

Portnoy, realizing the short skirt held no panties to slow his entrance, grabbed both her ass cheeks and thrust his immense member into the vast wet space that welcomed him like the ladies on the shore welcome homecoming sailors, and the size of her cunt seemed custom made for him.

'

Mary had expected he'd shoot his load almost immediately. She'd had her first orgasm just as he entered, filling every hidden space that her husband missed. But as crude a country bumpkin that he was, when it came to fucking he seemed to know just what to do. All the time he was thrusting, pulling her to him, her long legs entwined around his bare butt. His actions were not like a college fling, fast and furious, his attention was slow and firm, and his cock moved smoothly like a piston inside her body, reaching beyond to greet the flesh that had not felt a full cock since the time of the Harvest Ball.

Portnoy continued his exertion for a long time, and with persistence, he plunged in and out, with no rush to abandon his prize; giving her orgasm after orgasm, she stopped counting and yelping on the sixth. Several more followed before he grasped her ass tightly in his big hands and let loose a tsunami of sperm that filled her donkey twat and beyond, and he kept thrusting until the warm glue ran down her legs and reached her ankles.

When he began to pull out, she grabbed his ass to slow his exit. Portnoy, realizing Mary wasn't finished, thrust forward until a few minutes later, Mary let out a loud sigh and said,

"I'm cuming, and I love it."

And Portnoy responded, "Me too."

There was a small sink off to the side, and Mary washed her cunt in the cold water as she cleaned the sticky syrup from her yawning volcano. Portnoy came close, and his erection poked her above her breasts. Mary realized Portnoy wanted her to suck his big dick clean. She held his sticky dick and sucked and licked his monster cock, an inch at a time, as it was too large to swallow more than the head and the first few inches. Mary consumed much of the cum and vaginal fluids that clung to his prick. As Mary finished licking his staff, Portnoy pushed her head down to suck his big hairy balls in the cyst bath of her mouth.

Finally, both of them were finished when Portnoy started reaching for her tits.

"Oh, it's enough for today, Portnoy, my love. Next time, you'll get them for as long as you want."

She could see in the light that his cock was rising again, and she didn't want him fucking her twice in one morning.

"Do you need my help to finish up?"

"Naw," said the big lug, "You've done enough already," and the big lug kissed her on the side of the neck.

Mary scooted under the door jamb and waddled wide-legged into the house. She could feel his big dick as if it was still inside her.

The Professor was not to be seen, although his study reading lamp shone under the door.

"Hi, honey," she chirped at the door, "We got the new springs, and the guy is installing them now."

The Professor's voice came back at her, "How much do I have to pay the retard?"

"Don't say that, he's not retarded. He's really very nice. I'm sure he'll take whatever you give him. I am going to shower and do my hair to look nice for you at the parish church service tomorrow. The ladies are having a bake-off, and you can buy pies and cakes if you want."

"Ok, sweety, I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn yesterday and offended you."

"No problem, the past is past, and I don't dwell on it. I'm looking to the future and the rewards of living here with you in this little New England town."

She could hear her husband walking towards the bathroom where she was preparing to shower.