================================================================= BASTARDS WHO FUCKED OVER ME ================================================================= ================================================================= 14 Marion and his monster meat ================================================================= Marion was a skinny little Okie kid I used to play with long before puberty hit. There was nothing unusual about our friendship because hormones had not reared their ugly chemistry yet. I recall that his mother was carrying their latest sibling when we knew each other. One day she was sitting on a kitchen chair smoking a cigarette and watching the black-and-white teevee. Her wash dress was hiked up and she wore no panties. I saw my first hairy pussy. I was not impressed. I was mildly upset to make the connexion that we come into this world through that ugly thing. Though it must have been inconvenient for my mother, I was secretly glad my birth had been Caesarean. People were always moving in and out of the Golden Gardens tract. Marion's family was no exception. I didn't see him again for several years. One Saturday afternoon I was out in my den rearranging bookshelves when I heard an unfamiliar bass voice call my name. There before me stood -- Marion! He was done up in a sky blue Western-cut shirt and Levis 501s. Both looked like he had been perfectly melted down and poured into them. There was no excess of material and there was no strain in the fabric. He could not have revealed his form more perfectly than if he were buck nekkid! I was enthralled. My GLUB how he'd grown up! He'd heard about my fame as a courtesan and he wanted to try out the wild side. Wild horses could not have kept me from attacking, tenderly though it was. Glub provides; my folks were off in the weeds somewhere picking apricots. I had the place all to myself. I invited him into the main house where I told him that I would be more than happy to let him screw me half to death but that I wanted to relish the experience. So long as I didn't try to cornhole him or get weird or something, it was fine with him. Outside of Keith, I probably know Marion's body better than any other. I went after him for tactile information from head to toe, slowly and carefully undressing him every inch of the way. He was perfect -- not a mole or imperfection anywhere. He wasn't the least bit sheepish when I began flicking his nipples. They stood up and I fastened my lips to each one in turn. I cupped his gigantic balls in my hands and marvelled at their weight. I sucked at his nutsac and felt his cock rise, spring to the side of my nose and begin bumping against my forehead. I went for his buttglobes and he spread his legs as he stood and guided my finger to his starfish. In a husky whisper he said, Spit on your finger. I didn't need to be told twice. He was a big boy so I used my middle finger. I got my digit all the way into him and he held his cock at my nose and said, Put it in your mouth. He was so rigid that his "Arkansas Luggage" was drawn back to the point where he appeared to be circumcised. He had a delightful light musk about his tool and I fell on it like a hungry bum on a knockwurst. It wasn't long before he was pushing my head away from him saying, Quit -- I don't want to come that way -- I want to fuck you. I was out of my clothes in record time and flat on the couch raring to go. Marion was a somewhat thicker than George and longer, but his tool was harder and I didn't care if he hurt me -- I wanted him in me. I hadn't had it for a while and he was so Glubdamn beautiful I would not have cared if he made me bleed. I grabbed a bottle of Jergen's Lotion off the lamp table and ladled it on his dick. He was sopping wet with it when he laid on top of me and aimed for my crack. I moved and aimed my hole at his dick and threw my hungry ass up at it and nailed it. The head went halfway in and stuck. I pushed. He pushed. I was cussing to myself because it hurt. The head popped in. The rest was easy. The next thing I felt was his giant balls flopping on my buttcheeks while he wailed that prong in and out of my asshole. I couldn't hold back from coming myself and I don't like to do it that way because I lose interest and find continued reaming uncomfortable at the most and boring at the least. This time I wasn't going to cut a guy short. I kept throwing my ass up to him with rude thwacking noises til he brought a great and profound growl up from his throat, bit my neck and slammed all he had into me one last time. I felt jet after jet of hot fluid pulse through his hose. When it was finished, we were both a bit sheepish -- embarrassed at how heavily we had gotten into the scene. But I asked for it. I did everything I could to make him as hot as a firecracker. I must have succeeded because he was way too exhausted for a replay. I know: I asked. Maybe I gave ole Marion too much of a good thing too soon and scared him off. Or maybe he decided doing it with a buttboy was something he couldn't handle. Yet another one got away.