Mr. Big Hands

Looking back, it was definitely too much makeup. The outfit could have been a little less bisque, and the black stilettos could have easily been replaced with flats, or simple boots. But it was all a key part in the confidence-building mindset I required. My lips were too red, and my face was like glass, porcelain, caked in Chanel concealer and lightly powdered in Sephora. I, was unstoppable.
The night began with Kelsey arriving in a sexy bumblebee costume, blue eyes bright underneath her glasses I would soon drunkenly rip off. She was magnificent, wings bouncing with each careful step in her four-inch heels. We both admitted our nervousness, and soon broke out the Patron and hastily drank, following each shot with awkward bites of lime that became stained and grotesque with red imprints. We didn’t plan on this, we just wanted to go dancing like all insecure, underage girls. But the boys were calling, and her keys entered the ignition.
The party was in yet another mansion-type of house, with marble floors and expensive cars in the driveway. Stumbling up the stone-set path we could hear the beer pong and drunk girls losing. Clockwork, we lit our cigarettes and daintily stepped into the backyard.
“DAMN.”
“What’s your name?”
“Hey this is my house, who are you…?”
I’m Desiree, sir, and this is Kelsey. I’m sure you’ve heard of her, my dear, don’t play dumb. Do you have a lighter? She knew them all of course, but this was part of the show. If you dress like a dominatrix, you simply must play the part. My costume was a bounty hunter, complete with tequila filled squirt guns that dangled off of the leather belt I had loosely around my hips. My leather tights were sliced down the hips, thighs, all the way to my ankles. I had a black, lacy bra on top that was barely concealed underneath a short leather jacket. My hair was curled into beachy waves, reaching my lower back. I had no idea who these people were, I just moved her from a small town where outfits like mine were burned, along with anything that could be registered as sexy. I was enjoying my freedom, in the past every party in my little town consisted of stuck-up bitches with perfect bodies that they covered in expensive jeans. I was out of my element, and I loved it.
Wherever we went in this house people made way for us and snuck glances at my perky chest. We were fucking princesses, and we knew it. Our beers were paid for, shots handed to us without an explanation, would you like some water sweetheart? These young boys in their silly jackets and leather shoes, they had everything handed to them by mummy and daddy. Spoiled, inexperienced. Ripe. My recent breakup had left me crippled, emotionally and physically I was starved. After two years of dedication I was deemed “boring” and broken up with before I left for school. I was angry, livid with rage. I threw myself into the gym, worked out constantly, ate only vegetables and protein shakes until my hard work began to show, losing my precious thigh dimples and muffin top. I was strong, finally. I was broken, but beat the shit out of him mentally instead of destroying myself.
I wanted something physical tonight, and so I began my search. In these heels I was almost taller than the boys that awkwardly mingled in the rooms that were full of other drunken girls. They didn’t look like me, though, they tried too hard. We had playboy bunnies slurring their words, sexy cats and dogs trying to dance in the shoes they borrowed from their sisters. The sultry vibes I gave off were natural, I was conservative in the daytime, always professional. Take me to a party and I’m itching to let my sensuousness out. I wanted to be a prize, something everyone wanted. And it seemed to be working.
There was on boy here, and he was different. As opposed to the watery beers and cheap alcohol that everyone else was swigging, he had brought a personal six-pack of my favorite dark ale. He was tall. He had big hands, his jaw was sculpted and his arms were taunt. Bingo.
I don’t want to give the impression that I’m “easy” or a slut. Honestly, I’ve never been like this. I prefer to go out in simple clothes and walk around under the radar without makeup or revealing myself. Its just that lately I’ve had this… hunger I guess. When I walk around with Kelsey she feels it too; we are beautiful, and its okay to embrace that every now and then. At the clubs we would test our skill levels by taunting the Russian bouncers with our lip biting and giggling. It surprised me, really, how easy it was to get your way by acting promiscuous. Suddenly life was more interesting knowing that I could get into the VIP by pouting my lips and arching my back in mock-boredom. Doors were opened, drinks were poured. We were fucking princesses.
He noticed me, we had brief eye-contact but I wanted him to work a bit harder for this body I had worked hard for. I placed my delicate hand with blood-red fingernails onto some kids chest and asked him if I could have this dance. His friends were speechless, he tried to act nonchalant but I knew he had gotten a teeny bit hard at the thought of my hips rubbing into him. He agreed, flicked his dark hair over his eyes and lead me into the middle of the room, deep into the crowd of horny teenagers.
The lights were low, the music was loud and full of bass. This was my element. I placed my sculpted ass into the crevice of his skinny legs and ever so slowly, began to grind my hips into him. My hair was held above my head with my hands while my other was reaching around and squeezing his nonexistent ass. He hadn’t a clue what to do, his hips weren’t aligning with mine, but he was certainly enjoying himself. After a few songs, I began to get bored, and Mr. Big hands crept onto the dance floor and whispered something into my partners ear. His eyes widened and he stepped off, looking down he shuffled away into the crowd. Pretending to be annoyed, I looked up at my intruder, “Excuse me, his virginity was ripe for the taking.” Big hands laughed and leaned down, much too close to my face, “You want more than that dear, I know.” I was shocked, but alright he had worked hard enough for me to be satisfied. His hands, oh god his hands. I’m attracted to strength, and he certainly had it. He used those big hands to pull my tiny waist towards him, and he got behind me and gently applied weight to my hips with his. Intrigued, I returned the pressure and rotated my hips to the beat. Miraculously, he kept up. During this seductive dance, he would lean down and gently run his mouth over my neck, sucking and nibbling with his five o’clock shadow tingling my sensitive flesh. All of this was down while our bodies perfectly kept up with each other, almost romantically sashaying in the center of the floor, drunk teenagers falling over each other to our sides. I felt nothing else but the heat radiating from his hands and chest, he was warming me up in such a way I hadn’t felt since that asshole who broke up with me had touched me, almost four months ago. I was content, but still hungry.
We danced, and I got his name, Josh. Such an ordinary name for someone so fierce. He was in the military, and had just gotten back from boot camp. Support our troops and whatnot, right? He was tall and proportionate, my head fitting under neath his chin as I pressed my breasts into him. I felt him becoming a little hard underneath his acid-washed jeans, but I was actually enjoying dancing. It was fabulous foreplay, and I was even feeling a bit wet down south, which was unusual. I’ve had a lot of sex, and normally takes a bit more to get me going.
Going, which is what I wanted. He knew it too, so I, slightly stumbling, grabbed his hand and led him upstairs much to the disappointment of the other boys that I had been eying. We found a room that was gorgeous, decorated in hues of red and accented in dark wood. The bed was king size, enough room for a party and then some. He was chomping at the bit, but was obviously holding back. I’m sure he wasn’t expecting to be so fortunate, I was crawling on the bed, arching my back and letting gravity play with my breasts. On the bed, I sprawled out slowly and cheekily, tousling my hair and looking up at him. I was the definition of sex: red lips, lace, heels. Bring it on sweetheart, I was ready.
He took off his shoes and shirt and crept up to me, kissing my stomach and tinkering with my belly button piercing. His lips were wet, sliding around on my hip bones, leaving slimy lubricant on my stomach. His eyes were glossy, his hardness apparent and stiff. He unhooked my bra in the front with steady fingers and unleashed my perky breasts that still pointed upwards. My nipples were getting hard from him just looking at them, and they fully perked up when he reached up to grasp them and applied enough pressure to make me moan quietly. I was lucky, I had incredibly sensitive breasts. He brought his mouth up to them and sucked, greedily. I ran my fingers through his hair and tightened my grip, roughly holding him still. He was unbuckling my belt with one hand, rubbing my through my tights. He must have felt my wetness because he picked up the pace and yanked off my shoes, pulling my tights down to reveal that I wasn’t wearing panties.
He moaned at the sight of my freshly shaved and washed mound, pale and hairless it was a sight to behold. He gently slid down the bed until he was between my legs and held onto my thighs while he teased me, kissing closer and closer to my precious spots. When his lips finally hit their mark, I was so excited from anticipation I had to hold back from crying out. I wanted to feel him inside of me, foreplay was taking too long but ohh he knew was he was doing. He licked me up and down, inserting one finger and rubbing me from inside, I asked for more and he supplied me with another finger, stretching me and releasing more juices for him to suck up while he tickled my clit with his tongue. He increased his pace, getting my close to coming but not many have ever succeeded in doing so. No matter how good it feels, making me cum is near to impossible. I sat up and pushed him back towards the edge of the bed and undid his pants, sliding his boxers off to allow his raging cock to pop out. It was a decent size, thick enough to almost cause pain and long enough to hit the back of my wall.
He was huge, and already leaking precum out of his shiny pink head. I looked up at him, he was almost blushing, smiling down at me. I was a prize, I hoped he felt lucky. I let my tongue slink out and kept it stiff while I licked him from the base until the tip, tasting him and letting my tongue get him slimy and wet. I slipped his head into my mouth and ran my tongue underneath it, doing a windmill motion with my tongue while I gently caressed his pulsing ballsack. He moaned impatiently, he was ready to fuck.
I was almost able to slip his entire shaft into my throat, but he was simply too big. While I was trying to do so he pulled himself out, lifted me up, turned me around so that my stomach was on the bed and my butt was hanging off at an angle, and he got behind me. He pressed his tip towards my hole and I felt his need to shove it it and blindly pound me, but he teased me at first. He pushed into my pussy with tenderness, slowly, calculated. Bit by bit he entered me more, stretching me out and making me starving. I was trying to push back but he held my hips steady and kissed my back, whispering that I was delicate, and needed to be treated as such. I reach back, grabbed his hands and placed them on my breasts that were hanging below me, while I did this I shoved back as hard as I could and finally felt the full force of his huge cock. It was heavenly, feeling him completely fill my pussy while I tightened and contracted my inner walls to fuck with him and feel it more deeply. He gasped, and I panted, “I am not made of glass. Fuck me like you mean it.” The flag had dropped and he was done playing around, he repositioned himself and pounded into me without a second thought. I was pushed forward by his strength, shoved into the blankets while moaning. He pulled me back until we were both leaning back and and started pumping away. At this angle, his hands were free and he pinched my nipple with one hand while he rotating his fingers around my clitoris, making me cry out. The angle of his dick in this position was sublime, the force of our fucking was fast and hard.
He lifted up his knees and actually picked me up while staying nestled into me until I got on the bed and laid on my back. He bent down and put my knees on his shoulders while I entered me again. I used my own hands to play with my breasts while he pounded me again and again. His stamina was perfect, he was able to hold back long enough for me to sincerely enjoy it. He twisted me legs together and pushed them both to the side, with my legs closed while he was fucking me I felt perfect pressure and he was able to rub my g-spot while we moved together.
I wanted to come, I was finally ready for it. I lifted myself up and pulled him into the doggy position and he really let it go. He tightly held my hips and pulled me back onto him with each thrust, and I was getting close to cumming. He reached under me and rubbed my clit again, sensing that I need more than just penetration to get off. That really did it, I felt my orgasm building for so long, as it came closer I began to moan much louder, he increased his speed even more and rubbed harder until I finally exploded into bucks of pleasure, the orgasm knocking me senseless while I gave into the waves of pure sex. It was a long, hard, deep orgasm that I really had been needing and shortly after I came I felt him cum inside of me,warming me up and increasing the sensations of the orgasm I just had.
He was heaving, tired of trying to satisfy the hunger I had for sex. He pulled out of me and pulled me up to him. Cuddling wasn’t something I was interested in, but I knew, as ll men usually do, that he would pass out heavily in a few seconds. He surprised me, though, and used his fingertips to gently run them along my hips and chest. It was delightful, really. It eased me into a state of comfort and I allowed him to kiss my forehead as I, actually, fell asleep in his strong arms.