Chapter 13

Sonia looked all around again, and appeared to be thinking intently.

I realized this was another make or break moment. Either we were going to fuck, or she was going to “come to her senses” and kick me out. Given how nearly anything I said to her rubbed her the wrong way, I just held my breath.

Had I been thinking straight, I could have come up with a long list of reasons why having sex with her would be a very bad idea. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Lust was in control of my body, and it was like my logical brain could only passively observe what was going on.

She seemed to come to a decision by the way her eyes narrowed with new determination. She definitely had sexy, exotic eyes, and when they were narrowed like this she looked even sexier. (Since she was pissed off most of the time, it was a look I frequently saw from her.)

I don’t know what she was thinking, but a big teardrop left her cheek and splattered on her upper chest, and that directed her attention to the condition of her face. She brought a hand up to her cheeks and commented, more to herself than to me, “Shit! My face is fucking soaked with tears. I must look like a horror show.” She brought both hands to her face and did her best to wipe it dry. “At least I’m lucky I didn’t wear mascara.”

I spoke from the heart. “Actually, you look stunning, and the tears make you look even sexier. They show your passion.”

She chuckled, but with chagrin. “Yeah, right! You can stop with the bullshit compliments already, you cocky fuck. Look what you’ve done to me!” She waved a hand down at her flawless and curvy naked body.

I don’t know what she was waving at in particular, but I definitely appreciated the view. I started to say, “Hey, they’re not bullshit. You’re really-”

She cut me off. “I’m really fucking sore, that’s what I am. I swear, my jaw is going to hurt for days! No dick should be THAT fucking THICK! DAMN!” She continued to wipe her face even as she said, “I don’t even know why I’m doing this, since it’s about to get worse. Way worse.”

“What do you mean?”

She growled grumpily, “Shut up! Just ... The less you talk, the better!”

Then she grew silent and that look of intense determination crossed her face again. Like a predator about to consume a meal, she leaned over me and repositioned herself over my lap, with her legs spread around my hips and her naked crotch coming to rest on the lower part of my bared shaft.

I shut my eyes tightly as a surge of excitement ran through me and I realized what was about to happen. As a result, I couldn’t see what was happening, but I definitely felt it when her hand held my shaft in place so her sopping wet pussy could make contact with the tip.

I think my heart forgot to beat for a surprisingly long moment. Then I gasped out loud in amazement. Holy ... Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick! This really is going to happen! I can’t be, and yet it is! Hot damn! I have NO FUCKING IDEA how any of this is possible, but the one thing I know for sure is that Sonia is WET and READY for a good HARD fucking!

My heart was racing wildly. The situation was unbelievably exciting to begin with, but she seemed to be torturing me by rubbing her cunt back and forth across the tip of my cockhead without actually pushing it in.

I opened my eyes again to see her facial expression. Was she trying to torture me as some kind of payback? But what I saw was very different. Her face still showed determination, but there was a great deal of fear and apprehension there too. In fact, she looked downright weak and vulnerable, which was an unusual look for her.

I realized then that she was religious, and probably a Catholic like me due to her Italian heritage, because she closed her eyes, tilted her head up as if to the heavens, and began quietly muttering some kind of prayer. She even took her hand off my boner so she could fold her hands in a prayerful gesture right in front of her bare breasts. (My cock stayed in place because her pussy lips were pushing down on it and had opened up slightly around the top half inch of my spongy head.)

She was muttering far too quietly for me to make out words, but whatever she was saying, it appeared to be emotionally intense.

Then, after mouthing the final “Amen,” she opened her eyes with a new expression. Her determination was back, with a lot of extra fire and anger.

I didn’t understand the anger part, especially when she firmly grasped my boner again and practically spat at me, “Daniel fucking Cooper! The bane of my existence! I hate your guts so much that I can’t even say. But I will NOT be cowed by you or your incredible cock! I’ll show YOU!”

She locked gazes with me to hold my attention on her face and then growled at me with even more venom, “I’ll show you angry!” She lifted her hips up so she was higher up on her knees, which meant my boner lost contact with her pussy. But then she sat back down with renewed force and after maybe half a minute of what seemed like a life or death struggle, she guided my raging erection into her overflowing cunt.

She let out a long and ear-piercing scream as her pussy lips stretched around my cockhead and she kept right on pushing down. Within a matter of seconds, she had made it as far down as the widest ridge of my cockhead.

That was the most difficult part, and she knew it. Her eyes opened almost comically wide, like she was doing a convincing Roger Rabbit impression, and she somehow got even MORE vocal! I thought she was screaming at the top of her lungs already, but no! She wailed so loudly that I had no choice but to cover my ears.

But still, for all that effort, she didn’t immediately make it past the wide ridge. She wiggled back and forth and humped her hips up and down, doing all she could to make it fit inside of her.

It was then that I realized why she’d suddenly gotten angry with me all over again right before she started to lower herself down on me. She was using her anger as a weapon, in order to psych herself up emotionally enough to dare to try this physically painful challenge. I was reminded of a lyric from a song by The Clash: “The fury of the hour, anger can be power, did you know that you can use it?” That in turn reminded me of Josie, the punk rock waitress, and how I’d discussed Clash lyrics with her.

But such thoughts were quickly wiped from my mind, because what Sonia was attempting was physically painful for me too. To call her pussy tight was an absolute fact. I’d had sex with a surprising number of women lately, especially for a happily married man, but Sonia was definitely the tightest I’d experienced in a long time, if not ever! She was as tight as it felt when I fuckied Cindy in her ass!

It suddenly occurred to me that this was proof Sonia hadn’t had sex in a long time. Who knows, maybe she hadn’t fucked at all since her divorce three years ago. It was like she was a virgin all over again! Either that, or she was just naturally that way, or both things were true.

Finally, after maybe half a minute of what seemed like a life or death struggle for her, she managed to push past the wide ridge of my cockhead. Her entire body shook because she suddenly slid a full inch or more further down until she reached more thick resistance again.

She paused to exhale and recover. Her screaming finally stopped, but then she cried out, “THANK FUCKING GOD! UNGH!” I thought she was done, but she opened her eyes and glared down at me with what seemed to be pure hatred. “FUUUUUCCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! I hate you so much! Why do you have to be so fucking THICK! It’s inhuman! It’s INSANE!”

I was surprised she managed to say that much because she was panting like she’d just run a race. She had to stop her complaining to recover her breath. While she did that, she brought a hand back up to her cheeks. That caused her to speak again, even though she was still desperately gasping for air. “Fuck me! My cheeks are soaked, again! Dammit, this isn’t sex; this is TORTURE!”

I was a bit woozy from the sheer intensity of her vice-like squeeze, but I managed to take a good look at her face. Indeed, it was wet with streams of fresh tears pouring down her cheeks, even wetting her neck and chin.

I tried to be reassuring. “Don’t worry; that’s normal.”

She exploded in anger, even though her chest was still heaving to get enough oxygen. “NORMAL?! You sick FUCK! There’s nothing about this that’s normal! You’re making me sit on a fucking TREE TRUNK! You’re going to ruin my pussy, and force me to go to the hospital!”

For a second there, I felt a surge of panic. Then I realized she was wildly exaggerating. After all, she still hadn’t fully regained her breath or her composure, and yet she was already starting to push herself down some more, trying to slowly impale herself all the way onto me.

Another minute or two passed. I didn’t say anything because I figured it would just set her cursing off some more. And she didn’t say anything because she was struggling with all her might to grind her hips down on me.

Her breasts weren’t Michelle-sized (although whose were?), but it was still a wonder to watch the way they were heaving up and down in time to her ragged breathing. Then she raised both hands above her head and tilted her head back, as if overcome in orgasmic ecstasy.

It was such a sexy sight, especially with her long black hair flowing down behind her, that I had to gasp out loud, and quite vocally too.

But it turned out she didn’t notice that, because it wasn’t just “as if” she was overcome in orgasmic ecstasy, she really was! She let out another loud scream, although I was glad to hear that it sounded much less like painful torture and much more like erotic pleasure.

Still, it was so loud that it worried me. I was even more worried when I thought back to her screaming of just a couple of minutes ago. How could anyone NOT hear that?! Especially since she’d sounded so agonized, had someone called the police?! Were we about to get interrupted by some concerned waitress, at the very least?!

Before I could ask, she complained some more (with her arms still above her head in that breathtakingly sensual pose), “MOTHERFUCKER! HOLY SHIT!” After some more gasping, she clarified, although again it was more like she was speaking to herself, “I can’t believe I just came like that! And I’m not even halfway down the damn thing yet! What have I been missing?! Why?! Why have I gone without this for so damn long?!”

She’d still had her head tilted back and her eyes closed as she lingered in post-orgasmic euphoria. But then she recovered and looked back down at me. Instantly, she went from a blissful daze to a fearsome scowl. “YOU! Why does it have to be YOU?! Why can’t it be someone single, and nice?! Why are all the gigantic, mind-bending cocks attached to amoral assholes?!”

I was getting tired of her insults, and I figured she was stuck with me now in both a figurative and a very literal sense. After that orgasm she’d just had, I didn’t think she would pull off in a snit. To even try to do so would be tough, since she was squeezing me so tightly.

So I cleared my throat and said, “Hey! I keep telling you that I am NOT an asshole! Think about my wife Mindy, and Cindy. You’ve met them. Are they not kind, good people? Why would they be with me if I’m such a monster?!”

She looked down towards her crotch. She couldn’t actually see my erection since she was sitting on it, but she ran a hand up and down all the inches that weren’t in her yet. She purred huskily, “I can think of one very good reason! And it’s a monster too!” But then she seemed to have a rethink. She stared into space above me and said in a calmer voice, “Okay, fair point. They do seem nice. I probably am being too hard on you.” However, just as she was starting to soften, her irate glare returned. “But the fact that there’s two of them! And Sue Ellen! And God knows how many others! Maybe you’re not evil, per se, but it fucking sucks that this has to be happening with YOU!”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she was recentering her mental energy. When she came out of that, she muttered, “Enough talking! This is worse than being half pregnant. I’ve got you half stuck into me. Dammit, I thought the worst was over, but the middle of this fucking redwood tree is even THICKER than the head! Are you trying to kill me?!”

She was silent briefly as she began rhythmically bouncing up and down. Then she added, “I don’t know about your other lovers, but I’m no cream puff! I’m going to get every last fat fucking inch of you in me, even if it kills me! And it probably will!”

Then, even though her eyes stayed closed, I could tell from her facial expression that her determination and anger returned, and with a vengeance. I don’t know how conscious she was about it, but she was definitely using her anger as a tool to give herself the emotional energy to press on.

More struggling ensued, much more. I swear, it was just as tough to get all the way inside her as it was to get all the way inside Cindy’s ass. Sonia was just too damn tight! And it was very frustrating for me, because with her riding on top of me cowgirl style, and especially due to her bitchy personality, I felt I couldn’t do much but just lie there and let her do what she needed to do at her own pace.

At least I could tell she was enjoying herself. It was kind of funny watching her facial expression flip back and forth from angry/determined to ecstatic. The tears continued to stream down her face, and her forehead was wet too, showing that she was sweating just as much. But that only made her more beautiful in my eyes, especially with the way some long strands of hair were out of place and occasionally fell down over her face.

I can’t forget to mention that I was having a hell of a time too. At first, her pussy was too tight, painfully tight. But the more she worked down my shaft, the more her body adjusted. I kept comparing the experience with fucking Cindy’s ass, due to the overwhelming tightness. But it dawned on me that the vagina was much more capable of changing size than the asshole - consider the miracle of a woman giving birth. Thus, it wasn’t long before Sonia loosened up enough so that she was still very tight, but not too tight.

I’m not sure if she would have agreed with my assessment, judging from the way she cursed me for my thickness from time to time. And I could tell she would have cursed a blue streak non-stop, except that she was usually too winded to say more. She was often reduced to just blurting out the likes of “FUCK!” or “DAMN!” from time to time.

After a while, I could tell that she was getting close to full impalement, but her energy was flagging to make that final push after struggling for so long. So I put my hands on top of her thighs and began slowly but very forcefully pushing her downwards some more.

This seemed to piss her off even more, perhaps because she realized that she needed the help and hated having to rely on me for anything. As I gradually forced her all too willing but still resisting flesh onto yet more of my thick shaft, I looked up at her angry face and found it strangely sexy and extra beautiful. I murmured, “Damn, woman! You’re SO BEAUTIFUL when you’re angry!”

Luckily, she was too exhausted to complain more than one quick “Shut up!”

Then her jaw dropped open, because all my pushing down was gradually having an effect. She cried out, “You motherfucking DEMON! I was thinking I couldn’t possibly take any more of this God damned battering ram, but look at me! We’re almost there!”

She was crying already, which was no surprise since she’d never stopped, but she started bawling like a baby. She shut her eyes tight and yelled through clenched teeth, “FUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! You’re driving so deep! I’ve never ... NEVER! Never this far! This thick! ... OH GOD! You’re killing me with COCK!”

Finally, mercifully, she made it all the way down. All in all, it took about five minutes of nearly non-stop struggle, since her last prolonged pause, which was a hell of a lot. It was like a tight anal sex ordeal. But she wound up fully impaled on my shaft. She appeared to be nothing but relieved, just like a runner reaching the end of a long race. As soon as she realized what she’d done, she collapsed down onto my chest. She wound up with her teary face soaking my neck and collar bone area, cuddled up to me with her arms hugging me as much as they could, considering I was lying down.

Of course I remained sheathed all the way inside her. After her supreme effort, there was no way either of us were going to let my hard-on slide out. Besides, she was still so very tight around me that it would have taken considerable effort for us to disengage.

We were silent for a few minutes while I let her recover. I tenderly ran a hand through her long, straight, dark hair, trying to show that I was kind and caring and not the bad guy she thought I was.

She seemed to appreciate that. Once she recovered somewhat and her panting calmed down, she purred contentedly while I stroked her.

But it seemed that she couldn’t get completely relaxed, because she kept bringing her hands to her face and wiping the teary streaks from her cheeks. However, once she’d more or less gotten her face dry, more tears would flow out, causing her to do it again.

She finally broke the silence to complain, though in a frustrated tone instead of an angry one, “Dammit, what the hell is wrong with me? I’m not sad in the slightest, but I can’t stop crying.” After a reluctant pause, she admitted, “I mean, sure, it hurts like hell. You’re stretching me more than I thought possible. This is worse than my worst case scenario. But the pleasure is even better! GOD DAMN, it feels fantastic!”

Just to be sure, I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Okay?! Are you deaf to my screams of passion?! Yes, it hurts ... but it hurts so GOOD!”

I thought she was done, but she had more to say, and even more emphatically. She lifted her head up enough to make eye contact with me. “It’s totally worth the effort, and we’re just getting started!”

I smiled up at her and continued to caress her hair with one hand, while idly fondling her bare ass cheeks with my other hand. “That’s true. Trust me, it’ll get much, much better. As for the tears, I don’t know. That seems to happen to all my women. I guess the body just does that whenever it’s in an extreme situation. Maybe it’s like you’re too preoccupied with the fucking to control your facial muscles. I don’t know.”

She bristled unhappily while I was talking, and when I was done, she let me have it. She sat all the way back up on me, while being careful to stay fully impaled on my shaft, then poked a finger towards my face. “That’s as may be. But don’t EVER call me one of your women! I am NOT one of your women, and I never will be! This is just a one time thing, like a bucket list item of getting fucked by a foot-long cock.”

I chuckled. “‘Foot-long?’ Not hardly!”

She grumbled, “Well, it sure as hell feels like it!” Then she regained her composure and determination. “Anyway, as long as this is my one shot, I’m going to make the most of it! Like I said, I’m not some delicate cream puff, like your other lovers. I’ve got a steel spine!” She pointed dramatically at my face again. “I’m going to rock YOUR world!”

I was slightly miffed that she was calling my other lovers “delicate cream puffs,” when she had no way of knowing how they were like in bed. But I realized that served a psychological purpose for her, just as getting angry did. So I let it slide.

She put her hands on the sides of her head, deliberately striking a very sexy pose. “Okay, by now you’ve figured out I haven’t had sex in a long while. My pussy is super tight because I’ve been re-virginated due to lack of use.”

We both shared a laugh at her “re-virginated” comment. For a brief moment, she smiled and showed a side of herself I hadn’t see before: she looked relaxed, kind, and truly happy.

But then her mask of determination quickly returned, and she said, “I’m not going to let you get to me and rock my world, because I’ll be too busy rocking YOUR world! I may be out of practice, but fucking is like riding a bicycle - you never forget. And believe me, I know a thing or two about fucking, especially thanks to my hips. My hips don’t lie!”

I was puzzled by her “My hips don’t lie” comment. If that was some common expression, I’d never heard it. What could that possibly mean?

It turned out I didn’t have long to find out. Sonia was still sweaty and teary, but she’d managed to fully recover from the original penetration and now she was raring to go. Furthermore, her time resting her head on my chest had allowed her pussy to loosen up just enough to create the perfect amount of friction.

Still keeping her hands on the sides of her head like some kind of posing belly dancer, she began rising up on my cock until only the head remained inside her. She was trying to look sultry and knowing, but that effect was humorously spoiled by her sudden shock. Her eyes went wide, and she exclaimed, “Hoooooly ... FUCK! God, that feels good!”

I had to agree, and I grunted with approval.

She quickly recovered and impaled herself back down. Again, she was trying to act like she was in charge, determined to impress me, but she was taken aback by the sheer pleasure. She cried out, loudly and wordlessly this time. Then, with her eyes still bugged out, she exclaimed in amazement, “I didn’t know it could be this good! I mean ... GOD DAMN!”

She had to pause with her movements while she recovered her wits. As she did so, she commented, “You’re not my first by a long shot. I wasn’t always too busy to have a social life, you know. But this ... this is something else! It’s like ... it’s not just fucking. It’s better, way better!”

I chuckled. Naturally, I couldn’t resist basking in her genuine praise. I knew that so far I hadn’t really done a damn thing to improve her fucking experience except having a penis of a certain size. That was just the luck of the genetic lottery. But still, it was a trip to make even the eternally pissed Sonia Bossi feel this good.

And I had to admire her for her determination. She was dead-set on proving something to me, and that seemed to be that she was going to get the best of me with her sex skills instead of the other way around. Thus, it wasn’t long before she resumed pulling my boner almost all the way out of her so she could go down on it. And she was able to keep her composure - as well as the sexy pose she still maintained - much better this time, now that she knew what to expect.

Then it was my turn to be surprised. I couldn’t figure out what she did that was so special, but then next time she impaled herself down on me, she did something with her hips that surprised and thrilled me.

She saw the startled look on my face and smirked in triumph. “A-ha! Even the great Daniel Cooper and his magnificent Godzilla cock is affected by that move! Well, just you watch out! There’s more where that came from. Like I said, I’m no cream puff!”

I liked her competitive spirit. It was definitely different, and it added some extra oomph to the already highly arousing experience. So I smirked right back and said, “So you say. We’ll see if that’s true or if you’re all hot air. Bring it on!”

“Gladly!” She pulled up and started to repeat whatever magical hip thing she did. But the funny thing was, it apparently felt as good to her as it did to me, because she was temporarily overcome. She had to stop and clutch her head. This time, it wasn’t a sexy pose, but more like she was suffering through a bad ice cream freeze. She even squealed and shrieked.

But seconds later, she shook it off, including actually shaking her head. She muttered, “Dammit, NO!”

Startled, I asked her, “What?”

A steel-eyed stare returned to her gaze. “I’m not going to go down that easily! Yes, your cock is incredible, but I can handle anything you can dish out! And more! You’ll see!” Then she tried to overwhelm me with a whole series of sexy grinding and churning hip moves.

She definitely had great moves! I was impressed. This was totally unexpected, to say the least. It was like fucking a belly dancer or yoga instructor. But her downfall was that, again, whatever she did to arouse me aroused her just as much. And since she was unused to the sheer size of my dick, she was already on the brink.

As a result, she didn’t even get to finish the series of moves she was obviously planning to do when her body stuttered to a halt. She tilted her head way back, arching her back dramatically in the process, and let out a great yell.

I was living the life of Riley. I was drowning in a sea of erotic euphoria, and I was also totally blowing Sonia’s mind, yet she was doing all the work. I literally hadn’t broken a sweat while so much perspiration was pouring down her face that her bangs were matted to her forehead. That was great news for me, because if we were in some sort of “fuck off” competition, I figured it would be a cinch to outlast her.

Sonia somehow managed to make it through her latest obvious orgasm without collapsing back down on me, but it was a close call. Her head lolled around and her entire upper body wobbled so much that I had to hold her sides just to make sure she didn’t fall off me, and even the sofa altogether.

Then, while she was still recovering, I figured “while in Rome,” and I brought my hands from her sides to her breasts.

It seemed she was too out of it to realize what I was doing, until I pinched both her erect nipples at once. It was as if her head exploded! I was taken aback at how she screamed her head off and obviously had another big orgasm.

When that was over, there was no doubt that she’d need my help to stay sitting upright on me, so I firmly held her sides.

I was a bit impatient, so while she was still in recovery mode, I asked her, “By the way ... about all the screaming ... I don’t mind, but isn’t there a danger that someone could hear you and come to investigate? In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already.”

That topic shook her out of her lusty daze. She even looked around the room with concern, as if someone could be hiding in a corner. Then she shrugged. “Frankly, I’m kind of surprised too. Luckily, I know this room is VERY soundproofed. But I’ve obviously never screamed for dear life in here before, so I don’t know if it’s THAT soundproofed. I guess we’ll find out!”

Then she narrowed her gaze at me again and grimaced with yet more renewed determination. When she licked her lips like a predator about to eat its defenseless meal, I couldn’t help but gulp in surprise at the sheer sexiness of what she was doing to me. She resumed doing her special hip moves, as if the best defense was a good offense. In other words, she was redoubling her efforts to get me to cum before I made her cum too much to go on.

And I must admit, she was damn good! I had felt that she was a living, breathing example of the “stern librarian” type, the sexually repressed woman who blossoms into a totally uninhibited passionate sex freak. And so far, that guess was right on the money! But I hadn’t counted on her hip moves. I didn’t know what she was doing exactly, but again the liquid, effortless moves of a talented belly dancer came to mind. She was rocking my world, just like she said!

However, I felt good knowing that I was “fighting back” and rocking her world even more. Plus, I felt smug knowing that I was just getting warmed up. If I could have this effort on her while lying still, I couldn’t wait to see how she’d react once I took charge and gave her my all!

So far, we hadn’t actually done that much in-and-out thrusting. But now that she’d adjusted to the situation, she finally was able to settle down for some serious humping and/or gyrating without having to stop every minute or two for another big orgasm.

That changed things for me. Due to her frequent breaks, I hadn’t been in danger of cumming, despite the fact that she had an extra tight cunt and seemingly magical hips. But once she got in a good groove, that changed. It wasn’t long before I was sweating too. I doubt I was actually burning that many calories, but I had to constantly flex my PC muscle to stave off orgasm, and the sheer emotional intensity of such a great sexual high was taking its toll.

My only salvation was that, once again, whatever she was doing to affect me was affecting her just as much, if not more so. In fact, there was a lot of “more so.” She didn’t have dramatic orgasms like before, where everything had to come to a stop for a while, but instead I noticed that she was having smaller but more frequent climaxes. Time and again I’d watch her body shudder and her eyes roll back into her head. But she’d quickly recover, like we were having a “fuck battle” and only the winner would get to live. I know that sounds hyperbolic, but I can’t overstate how determined she was to “rock my world” and thus somehow beat me.

One great thing about her hip movement was that she had a whole bag of tricks and there was no telling what she’d do next. At one point, she stopped her sexy churning altogether and began rapidly bouncing up and down on me instead. (Happily, the friction had eased up just barely enough to make that possible, though it was still an incredible squeeze.)