Page 139 of S is for SEX

“I’m…sorry,” I said under my breath.

“For what?’ he said as he raised his head slightly.

“Screaming,” I responded in a whisper.

“I like it. Let’s me know I’m doing my job,” he grinned.

“Wanna see my cock?” he asked.

My head bobbed up and down like a wind-up toy.

He rolled off the edge of the couch and unbuckled his belt. After removing his jeans, he turned to face me.

The size of the bulge in his boxer shorts was supportive of his claim. With wide eyes and an eager attitude, I swallowed heavily and stared.

“Oh my god. It’s uhhm. Wow,” I said as I gazed at his shorts.

“Shit, I've got cock for days. I got cock I don't even need,” he said as he pushed the waist of his boxers down his thighs.

As the material cleared the twitching shaft, what appeared to be a third leg hung heavily between his legs. I gazed down and blinked my eyes, uncertain if what I was seeing was some kind of a joke or if it was real.

After kicking his shorts to the side, he glanced up and grinned. With his eyes locked on me, and my eyes glued to the eighth wonder of the world, the sound of his raspy voice confirmed this was no joke.

As he spoke, I shifted my eyes to meet his.

“Big fucker, ain't it?” he asked with a laugh.

I glanced downward, stared for a long second, and forced myself to look away as I nodded my head repeatedly in affirmation. As much as I felt a desire to speak, I couldn't. I had my reservations on fucking him now, hell there was probably no way that thing was going to fit inside me...

But I had to know.

“Does it, uhhm...” my voice was dry and nervous, “...get bigger?”

“Afraid so. If you want to bail out, now'd be the time,” he began.

My eyes still fixed on his lower region, I shook my head. I didn't want to bail out, I wanted to get started.

My brother rode bulls professionally when we were younger, and I'd been to a few rodeos in my day. I had no earthly idea why I did it, but as I attempted to shift my eyes from his now rigid cock, my right hand slowly raised into the air. In hindsight, it was probably some subconscious connection between the signal to release the bull from the chute and my willingness to at least attempt to ride his stiff dick.

Cock.

Correction. His stiff cock.

“You got a question?” he asked as his eyes followed the path of my slowly rising hand.

“Nope,” I shrugged as I slowly lowered my hand, “I'm ready to ride.”

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