Page 363 of S is for SEX

THE ALPHA-BET

CHRISTY

When I was seventeen, I had my first and last sexual encounter. To say that it was a cluster-fuck would be an understatement. Cluster-fuck deluxe is more like it. John was an absolute jerk. I was a senior in high school, and he was a freshman in college at the time. I looked at him as being educated, even though he had only one year on me in school.

One problem with being a senior in high school is that you’re still a kid. You think you’re smart, intelligent, intellectual, and have the world by the balls. The truth is you don’t know shit. High school should be about three years longer - since people like John convince stupid young girls like me to do dumb shit - because we’re seniors. We think we have something to prove to the world and ourselves - before we are released to the world.

No one wants to go to college as a virgin. I sure as shit didn’t. As my senior year of high school began, John started to hang out with me. He went to the community college, and I perceived him as being a genius. Hell, he was in college. He was tall, thin, and had a strong jaw. His skin was smooth and clean. I didn’t know it at the time, but I found out later that he had a dick about the size of a green bean - and balls the size of lemons.

“So what exactly are you talking about? Oh, and I really like your hair,” Heather giggled.

“I’m not sure, I just want to go freaking wild. And thanks, it’s really short, huh?” I mumbled as I took a drink of beer.

“No, it looks cute. And you’re funny. You’re talking about being a whore for the summer, and you say ‘freaking’ when you’re talking about fucking. Say it. Say ‘fucking’,” she demanded as she took a drink of her margarita.

“I hate that word, and you know it - except when I am drunk, then I love saying it. Fucking. See? Fucking. I can say it; I just don’t like it - unless I’m mad or drunk.”

“When you’re drunk, it’s every other word out of your mouth,” she taunted.

“I would like to crawl inside your head and have an exact replay of what happened with John,” she laughed and then continued, “Seems kind of small compared to anything else that’s happened to half the other girls we know.”

Licking the salt from the rim of her glass, she giggled.

Heather and I had been friends since we started school. Normally, we could pass for sisters. She was five foot six, and I was five foot five. We were both cute and natural blonde, mine almost platinum. We could and did share each other’s clothes. People described us as curvy. I didn’t like that terminology much, but that’s what we had always been called.

Curvy.

We played softball together in high school, and now we were in college. The curvy sisters. Almost every week, someone would ask if we were sisters, and about once a month, are you two twins?

“You know what happened, dork. He unloaded two lemon sized balls full of cum all over my face, without fair warning. It was freaking gross, and the sex was not even like sex should be. My thumb was bigger than his dick,” I sighed, laughing with her as I held my thumb in the air.

“It took me a fucking week to get that shit washed out of my hair, and he never said a word after that. It’s like he knew that’s what was going to happen. Asshole. He probably planned it,” I laughed.

“The funniest part is when you said he told you, suck that cock. If a guy is packing a green bean, it’s a penis. A decent sized one is a dick, and one like Randy’s is a cock,” Heather said, holding her hands a foot apart, looking at the space between them.

I took another drink of beer, and thought about John. Fucking asshole. Half-way through my senior year, I agreed to sex. I had zero idea of the size of his dick. We had spent what little time that we were together kissing, and he had licked my pussy a few times. I assumed he had a normal dick. Secretly, I hoped he had a large one. We all hope for the big ones.

Every time I wanted to try to have sex, or reached for his crotch, he said, no. I should have known he had a green bean dick. Bastard. But who would have ever guessed he had lemons for balls? It all happened in about three minutes, but had scarred me for two years now.

We were in my bed making out. He reached down, unbuckled his jeans, and told me to get under the covers. I finished getting undressed and complied with his wish. Finally, we were going to have sex. Thank God, I thought. I had visions of an hour or two of sweaty heart racing sex. Screaming and yelling, several different positions - biting, scratching, and moaning. After all, my parents were out of town.

He crawled under the covers and dropped his jeans in one fluid motion. The anticipation was killing me. I had watched a lifetime of porn in preparation of this night. I had every intention of fucking this guy beyond his ability to comprehend. In an instant, he mounted me, and I felt his finger slide inside my pussy. It felt like it was his pinky finger. This was a really good start…pinky-finger banging me. Give me that dick, dude. Bring it.

His ass began to rise and fall. His finger slid in and out. When is he going to give it to me? I couldn’t take it. Not any longer. Encouragement, he needs encouragement. I reached down, feeling like if he had a little reassurance he’d let me have it. As soon as my hand reached the southern region I realized he wasn’t fingering me. He was fucking me. The palm of my hand was filled with two balls the size of lemons. Above those lemon sized nuts was a finger sized dick. I immediately let go of his skin covered lemons. I blinked my eyes and tried to digest what had just happened.

I winced, jerked my hand back, and may have laughed a little bit. I’m pretty sure I did. Out loud.

As soon as I let go of the skin-lemons, he pulled out, climbed on top of my chest and commenced to shove his #2 pencil sized dick into my mouth - screaming the entire time.

“Suck it. Suck that cock. Suck it all,” he screamed.

All? All of it? Seriously? It’s annoying. It’s like a finger in my mouth, you retard. Get off of me.

I reached up, and attempted to push him and his little boy wiener off of my face, and that’s when I brushed against them again. The lemons. I almost screamed. A combination of him humping my mouth, my hand grazing his lemon-sized balls, and the passage of time proved to be more than he could take. He erupted as I was pushing him off of my face.

Erupted.

The only person that could ever really know what it was like to have this happen is someone that has had a drink tossed in their face. A 16 ounce glass of beer. As soon as I touched his balls, he pulled out of my mouth and exploded. I felt like someone threw an entire glass of warm mayonnaise on my face and into my hair.

---