You can cum in what seems like seconds and is in reality just a few minutes. You get so excited that you just HAVE TO. You can't help yourself. You're so vocal... and wet... and you normally cum more than once, sometimes more than twice. I don't know a guy who wouldn't happily trade his soul to the devil for a night with a woman as responsive as you. Your partners have certainly never complained.
There's always this nagging feeling afterwards, as you lay on drenched sheets, that you must have it in you to have one HUGE cum rather than two or three or four... they're certainly not little. Not by any stretch. But the possibilities... What if? What would happen if you could somehow channel all that energy and release it all at once? Would you black out? Would you die and go to heaven?
"Probably not the latter", you chuckled as we sat in a dim corner of the bar getting to know each other. "Still, I'm not sure that I'd care if I did...", as a wistful smile crept across your face and the blush across your chest darkened perceptibly.
"Let's get out of here", I winked. "I think I may be able to help."
We exchanged pleasantries on the short walk to your place, just an ordinary couple out for a stroll as far as anyone else could tell, but tingling in anticipation of our first encounter.
You led me by the hand to your bedroom, dimmed the lights and turned to face me. We undressed each other and ourselves slowly, deliberately. We're not teenagers any more even though this encounter - two married people each with someone else's spouse - makes us feel much younger than our years. After all those months of searching Craigslist for someone to connect with, to create a spark with, to join with in going beyond our good but unexceptional sex lives, we finally met.
The search wasn't easy for either of us. You, like all the women who post on Craigslist, were inundated with barely literate responses and cock photos. I, like all the men who post on Craigslist, got dozens of responses from hookers and hundreds from young girls trying to make a few bucks selling only the promise of sex through thinly-disguised credit card scams. You and I were both just desperate enough to keep searching despite the odds.
You turned, wrists crossed above your head, while I admired your body. Heavy breasts, wide hips, just the tiniest curve of a belly meeting your shaved pussy at the juncture of thick yet firm thighs. The picture you sent certainly doesn't do you justice, I mused while watching you move.
I turned a silly and clumsy piroutte. You picked up on my feeble attempt at humor and giggled.
