Well, where do I start?
My name is Peter and I'm now 25 years old. I'm quite wealthy, have a wonderful life and am hung. What's to complain about, right?
It wasn't always like this, though.
Back in my final years of high school, I was a complete normal. If you're not familiar with the term, I wasn't geeky enough to be a nerd, but not cool enough to be popular. The middle ground. No-mans land. Whatever you want to call it, I was there. But I had one strong asset on my side.
Remember what I said about being hung? Well, I wasn't hung. I was huge. If I was especially turned on, I hit nearly 12 inches erect. And at this age, still being a virgin, I was always especially turned on.
Our story begins in the middle of my final year of high school. My parents were divorced and usually always away on business trips, so at this point in my life, I spent every single night at home in my room, jerking off my huge dick while imagining the hottest girls in my high school.
I know, what a cliché, right? I wanted to fuck every one of them, but none of them knew I existed. This was the night everything changed for the better though.
I was about to cum, imagining a specific girls pair of huge tits, when she walked in. Of my few female friends, Marie happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, a term I would later reverse the meaning of completely.
The door to my room opened, and I came everywhere. I didn't know what to say. Or do. She just looked at me with those brown eyes, in deep shock at the scene in front of her, before saying, 'Oh My God! I can't believe you!' And slamming the door shut. I heard her footsteps fast down the stairs, the front door slamming and her car eventually speeding away.
Fuck! Could this situation get any worse? I spent the next 10 minutes pacing up and down my bedroom floor, before I decided to do the unthinkable.
I called her.
She obviously had caller ID, because as soon as she picked it up she said, 'What do you want?'
'Listen, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-'
'Didn't mean to what?
'...Listen, just let me come over, let me apologise...' A pause.
Marie sighed. 'Fine. You have exactly 3 minutes to get your ass over here or I'm locking the front door.' She put the phone down.
3 minutes? It was a 10 minute drive to her house on a quiet day. What the hell was I doing thinking about this now, anyway?
I grabbed my keys and tore out of the driveway in an old SUV my Dad kept for emergencies only. Through my eyes, this was an emergency. To this day I don't know how I survived that death ride. In later weeks I would discover that I ran two stop signs and a red light before pulling up on Marie's driveway with 8 seconds to spare.
I didn't lock the car, I didn't even take the keys out of the ignition, I just threw down the handbrake and stormed up the path to her front door, and was about to knock on it when I thought back.
I'll be locking the door in 3 minutes.
I opened the door without another seconds hesitation, and closed it behind me.
The large suburban house she lived in was dead silent. I glanced around for any sign of Marie or her parents.
'Hello...?' Nothing. I heard the faintest creak upstairs. Hm. Front door unlocked. Empty downstairs. She must've been on the second floor. I traipsed upstairs, suddenly realising I had no excuse, and had no idea what I was going to say. In the meantime, let me tell you a little bit about Marie.
