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The Skater

Category: Fetish
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I hated it when they first built the thing. It came up almost over night, and when the construction noises faded I thought I’d have peace. No such luck. The sounds of jackhammers and cement mixers were replaced with the endless endless clattering roll of skateboards. The skate park was an atrocity that could not stand, and I was determined to see its eyesore slopes and rails and endless graffiti tags bulldozed to the ground and repaved over.

What I hated most of all, was this one little punk who would come out late at night and skate alone. It’s strange, I never saw him in the park during the day, but while I may not know skateboarding, I could tell he was better than all the rest. His moves were almost a pleasure to watch. His jumps were higher, his spins were, well, spinnier, and his better tricks sometimes involved full flips and handstands.

I hoped he wouldn’t be out this night, as I was roaming the park with a clipboard and a manual, meticulously combing the grounds for a violation in construction or legal codes. As a longtime lawyer, I just knew I’d be able to find SOMETHING that could shut this place down. I had been at it a couple of hours and found lots to work with. This place was rife with safety code violations and shoddy workmanship. I was just adding a dangerous exposed pipe to the list when I heard the sound I dreaded, the soft roll of four little wheels that haunted my nights.

He was tall, over 6 feet easily, 18, though his baby face was smooth and pale and perfect . If he wasn’t done growing, he was going to be a giant when he was. On the warm night, he had opted to go in just shorts, shirtless, and my eyes could not help wander over his sculptured form. Abs that rippled like masculine waves, Pecs that begged for attention, arms that could have belonged to a heavyweight boxer with years more experience and training. His body seemed hairless, but I couldn’t tell if that was a product of shaving, or simply the fineness of his longish blonde hair that framed his boyish face.

He fixed his ice-blue eyes on me, meeting my green ones, and then flicking lower to my tits. The warm night had me dressed down as well, a blouse unbuttoned over a tank-top that did little to restrain my ponderous H-cup breasts, each orb free and bra-less, wobbling a little from my slightest movement. He continued to stare down my legs, and then back up, lingering on my breasts, then up to my bun-tied red hair, then back down to my tits again, then my face. Men.

“What’s with the clipboard, lady?” He asked.

“The name’s Katrina. I’m going to get your little playground here shut down.” I explained.

“What!? You fucking bitch! Why?”

“Because the last thing I need is loud, sweaty boys clattering around practically in my front yard all day and night. And YOU are the worst offender.”

“I bet you like us sweaty, you old bag.”

I blushed. I’m not sure why. “You wouldn’t stand a chance in court, boy. There’s really nothing you can do.” I taunted him, even letting my torso jiggle a little to really rub it in.

He looked me up and down again and smiled.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“What sort of deal?”

“If I can make it from that corner,” he pointed, “to your house in ten seconds or less, you’ll drop the suit.”

It would have been impossible for a car to make it that distance in so short a time. There was no harm in giving the pest a reason to leave me alone. Besides, if he succeeded, I’d just file the suit anyway. He couldn’t stop me.

“Sure. Let’s see it, boy.”

“The name’s Oliver. Now time me.”

And I did, waiting till he reached the corner to start watching my cell-phone clock. IT didn’t look good for the first few seconds, but as he kicked the board into gear, he took off insanely, those muscular legs propelling his light frame uncannily fast. He must have been wearing a weighted cup or something, because his khaki shorts bulged with an object unnaturally large that almost seemed to help preserve his momentum as he went forward.

He finished the run and skated over, body glistening in a light sheen of sweat from his incredible effort.

“Seven seconds. I’m impressed.”

“You think that’s impressive, you should see me take a kick-flip fakey 360 into a manual primo ollie.”

“That means absolutely nothing to me.”

“Okay, then how about this? A bet for double or nothing.”

“I’m calling off the case. How exactly could I ‘double’ that?”

“With those double-D’s of yours. Show ’em to me if I win. If I lose, the case is off.”

I scowled, “They’re H cups you little prick, not that its any business of yours. Fine, if I win, the case is back on, and YOU have to skateboard home naked. Now what’s the bet?”

“I will start from only six feet from you, and then jump over you on my board. Do you accept?”

Even with his speed it could never happen. He was probably just trying to draw things out by losing…suckering me into something bigger with an easier task.

“Deal. Do it, brat.”

He started his run, reaching his blazing speed fast and leaping, snatching his board out from under his feet and trying to clear me with his legs spread to either side of my head.

Then something strange happened.

He cleared me.

His package did not. It was heavy, like getting slapping in the face with a basketball made of ground beef, and the weight of it knocked me on my ass. He landed awkwardly behind me. I was blinking in astonishment as to what that weight could possibly be, because what my senses told me contradicted my brain fiercely. It must have showed on my countenance as I turned to face him.

“Didn’t think I could do it, huh?”

“You didn’t do it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Nuh-Uh.” I blinked. Was I arguing with this guy like I was a kid? I was a fucking lawyer for god’s sakes.

“You knocked me over. Ergo, you did not clear me.”

“I’m on the other side of you. So that means I did.”

I tried to think of more to back up my side. I couldn’t. “Okay, so it’s a tie. We cancel out and we’re back to square one.”

“Wrong.” He shot back. “Skate park betting rules say that we each have to take our penalty.

I wanted to say no. but…that bulge…I had to know. “Okay, fine. But come inside. I’m showing YOU my boobs, not the whole neighborhood.

He shrugged with that arrogant smile of his. “Whatever.”

And we went inside.


We stood in the living room, the skate punk and the lawyer, each daring the other to make the first move.

“You have to go first. You said I have to go home, so I can’t and still see you.”

“Fine.” I muttered, shedding my blouse and then lifting the tank top, letting him take out the perfect gleaming orbs that are the pride of my tumultuous puberty. My tits are perfect tear-drops, lolling on my chest in resplendent softness, the areolas like the bottoms of a pint-glass, the nipples burnished purple nubs like pinky-tips.

He stared. I resolved to let him look until he blinked, but then realized that he had been looking for almost ten minutes with his eyes drying in his head.

“Umm…you okay there, brat?” I asked.

“They’re magnificent!” He said with awe almost cracking his voice.

I blushed a little.

“Okay. Lose the shorts.”

And he did. Slowly. My eyes squinched shut, then opened wide. The root of him was as thick as my ankle, soft where it hung as he slowly unveiled inch after uncoiling inch of it.

When he’d reached the balls about 8 inches down where they hung super-low, one in each pant-leg apparently, I almost fainted. Each hairless nut was like a football with rounded points, manly and grotesque and powerfully they hung, mocking all men I’d ever seen naked with their potency. None could call themselves a man after seeing this true masculine paragon,

This blond Adonis with the balls of a God.

And still that dick kept coming, inches became feet until I saw that he dangled ankle-thick to just below his knees.

I fell to mine.


“You can’t be serious!” I finally said, a little louder than I intended as I stared at the limp monster.

He blinked. “What the hell does that even mean? I’m right here. This is my cock. Those are my balls. What’s the matter? Feeling like you’ve never seen the real thing all of a sudden?” He arrogantly smirked after he said it.

I stared a little more. “It’s just… I mean…I…So…so bi…so hu….so monstero…. so fucking gargantuan! You have a massive cock, okay? Do you think you could give me a fucking second to adjust my entire reality around the idea that someone as much man as you could even exist?”

He seemed to think about it.

“Would it help if you had the measure?” He asked.

“I…Uh…” I was still flabbergasted, but could admit the appeal to his suggestion. “Okay.”

He grinned.

“Let’s start with a conventional measure. Grab something long…a yardstick or a tape measure.

I stood, tits swaying heavily as I searched through the house, finally finding a cloth tape measure and returning.

“Okay, lay your cock on the table.” I said with more eagerness and command in my voice than I’d intended.

“You sure? Is that table sturdy enough to handle the weight?” He asked.

I shook my head at him and clucked my tongue, tsk tsk. But to my shock, when he slapped his massive prick down with a resounding smack upon the surface, it did creak and shake a little. Even soft this thing really was strong enough to threaten my furniture.

My mouth was dry as I unrolled the measure along it.

5 inches. “I’ve barely started…”

10 inches “Jesus christ…”

15 inches “OH MY GOD! Surely it can’t grow much, right stud?” I asked, jaw hanging at the fifteen inches of soft meat running almost off the edge of my table from where where

his tremendous testes splayed to either side.

“Well you’d have to get it hard to see, now wouldn’t you?” He smirked.

Oh who was I kidding? This young skate-stud knew for certain that I was going to be sucking his cock before the night was through… might as well get it over with, I thought.

Crawling up on to the table, I splayed my enormous udders on either side of it, teasing his soft cock with soft tit-meat, running my award-winning boobs up and down the length of him, loving how I could feel blood throbbing through those spectacular veins just from the contact of my tits.

When I reached the base of him, I slung his prodigious cock over my shoulder, focusing my horny attention on his balls.

What I did to that pair of orbs could not be described as praise or even worship… no, I founded a religion on those sweaty, meaty gonads, one whose rituals consisted of licking and sucking and kissing, whose only dogma was salvation through nut-lathing and whose high priestess was a temple whore named Katrina Kildaire.

There was no way I could actually fit a ball in my mouth of course, so I did what I could handle instead. I sucked the thick, salty skin of his sack between my lips and filled my maw with it, then sucked harder and filled my throat. His ball-bag alone without his cock or nuts in the equation occupied as much space as the biggest lover I’d ever accommodated, and when I finally let it go the fat orbs surged forward, battering my lips. I looked up him, clearly impressed, but his expression was one of familiar self-satisfaction.

Here was a young man who had known his share of worshippers, who knew just how amazing his gift was, and who didn’t mind rubbing my face in it. Which he literally did when he seized my hair and crammed me forward, turning my worldview into nothing but the sight, smell, taste, and touch of his enormous seed-makers. I tongue-lashed the maybe a fourth of one huge balls that would fit in my oral cavity, using my mouth-muscles to massage him, slap him, taste him and tease him, hoping to please this tiny portion of pendulous prick-paste-pod, He was clearly practiced, and tangled another fist in my red hair, forcing me to move in such a way as to give equal treatment to each portion of his left nut that I could, then directed me to the other one. I licked and slurped and sucked, gasping and moaning between mouthfuls of man-meat, finally gasping when I pulled back to see three things.

The clock on the wall said I’d been merely sucking this stud’s balls for 45 minutes. It took that long just to get to all of them.

They were now coated in sheen of my slobber. It looked like someone had dumped a drum of saliva on his balls, and it puddled upon the table.

His cock was now harder than before….it still clearly had some give as the end of it drooped over the side of the table, but it had grown almost twice the size. I don’t know how to explain it scientifically, but I had an honest to god orgasm right there, my whole body going rigid, my nipples stiffening even tighter, my pussy belting out a nasty squirt of juice that audibly went “splat” upon the floor.

I was in trouble.

He knew it too, leering at me, devouring me with his pretty blue eyes, shamelessly inspecting my body for how he would take pleasure from my lush curves and pouting lips and all the rest. I wasted now time in walking around the table to inspect his head, lifting the seemingly grapefruit sized knob in a palm and leaning low to slap my tongue over his bursting helmet, tasting his glans like a cone of cock-flavored ice cream. My wet pink mouth-muscle wandered all around and then stabbed into the cum-slit, the thing almost cavernous compared to any I’d ever seen. But then, from the look of those balls, it would simply have to be. They wouldn’t have a prayer of unloading through a normal man’s cock; it would be like trying to empty a water-tower through a drinking straw.

I kneeled on the table, straddling his cock, not putting my weight on it, just letting my wet pussy (which I’d freed while fetching the measure) coat the back of him in my steaming juices, a preview of things to come. I grabbed the tape measure and wrapped it around one of his big biceps. He flexed for me, letting the sculpted bulge fill out to an incredible 20 inches for me. I licked his arms, worshipping his muscles, letting my tongue roam both of them, and then find purchase on his perfect Pecs, teasing his nipples as I explored each straining crevice of his chest muscles.

My tongue led me down his abs; thick cuts of steak-like muscle layered his torso like armor, a perfect trench of it running down him, a trail for me to cover to his cock.

The root of it was so thick where it met his body that I couldn’t put my lips on both sides of it at once, even when I stretched my jaw painfully to try. Holding this strange position of gape-jawed snake-swallowing I slid down his monstrous member, smearing my lips on the back of his cock until I reached the head. After coating the grapefruit-like scepter-tip I leaned back and marveled again at his now seemingly fully hard size.

“Can I measure?” I asked nervously.

He just laughed, obviously used to this question. “Of course.”

But when I grabbed the measure he put a hand to my wrist. “No no. Grab my board.”

“Why?” I blinked

“Just do.” He said again. I went into the living room and seized the skateboard he’d left leaning against the door.

When I handed it to him, his intention became clear. He flipped the board over, and revealed a long sticker of a ruler underneath. IT ran the length of the board. 32 inches. He slapped his balls on the edge and his cock on the board, the wet smack making my pussy tingle. It ran the length of the board almost exactly. This stud had a32 inch fucking cock. Two feet, 10 inches. His cock was longer than his biceps were around, thicker than my waist. I marveled. I drooled. My jaw hung. Time passed.

Then, suddenly, I was on him, moaning like an animal as I crammed his cock deep into my throat, choking down inch after inch after inch. I though I was the queen of deep throat, but the stud tested me, and on that thirteenth inch of him I found myself rasping for breath, still trying to force myself forward, almost two feet of him left completely un-sucked. I pushed him back with a frustrated cough.

“Okay stud. I refuse to be beaten that easily. When I say shove, then shove.”

He looked a little taken aback. It was clear that while he might be accustomed to many over-the-top reactions to his size, few of those included attempts to kill one’s self on him. I lay on my back, head dangling over the edge of the table and opened wide.

“Shove” I commanded, and he thrust forward, plowing his massive, virile megacock down my throat, making me gag at first, but then utterly suppressing my body’s ability to react just with the sheer amount of pressure and fullness. My eyes were wide as I felt him pass this wall and slip inch after inch of meat into me, his enormous balls growing tantalizingly close, but still eight inches away by the time they slapped against the edge of the table and his cock could enter no further.

But I was proud to have 26 inches of cock stopping my throat. I demonstrated this pride by swallowing on it, rolling my muscles over every inch of him I could, my tits wobbled on my chest obscenely as I reached backward and grabbed a ball in each hand, firmly squeezing and tugging the huge footballs as I nursed on his cock.

My pussy and throat competed for what could produce more juice, the former coating the whole table-top in a sheen of my sweet nectar, the latter an unending stream of gooey thick precum and saliva that spilled from my lips and threatened to go up my nostrils from the upside-down vantage point.

“That’s right, you get sloppy, hon!” He grinned as he pumped his hips a little, making me gag out more of the nasty gunk.

“I’ll bet when you walked out there with your little clipboard, you didn’t think this was how your night was gonna end, did you?”

I could only cough in response, pumping and tugging his nuts all the while.

Finally he pulled out and oxygen burst into my lungs, my eyes wide as he wiggled his now dripping prick around like he were wielding some absurd skyscraper of meat. Looking me hungrily up and down he came closer and parked his balls on my head, thick leathery scrotum spilling down the sides of my head almost like a hat. He slapped his wet prick down between my tits and used his hands to gather them up, sawing his cock between them, balls rolling all over my upturned face, filling my nostrils with the scent of him.

Again I lost track of time, but when he finally pulled his scrotum from my face, I saw that my belly button was overflowing with a shimmering lake of pearl precum. He strode around the table and grabbed my ankles, tugging my ass to the edge as he placed the tip of his rod at my pouty cunt lips.

“I dare you not to cum.” He said.

“What?” I asked.

Then he slid himself inside me, parting my sex with no small amount of pleasure and pain, the sensation of both mixing feeling like all the blood in my body suddenly rushed to my clit, fanning the flames and stoking them at once, endorphins adrenaline and raw primal lust firing my pussy to life. He was coy at first, only feeding me between 4 to 6 inches a thrust, but once I gave my first whimper of “more” he went off, plowing his monster deep inside me.

His thick head scraped every sensitive wall of me as his length took me deeper then anyone ever could, the hot precum spewing ram battering my innermost recesses, ripping an orgasm from me. I let him know about my orgasm by speaking in nasty gibberish. “OH MY FUCK YOUR COCK HUGED MY PUSSY AIEEEEEEE!” I believe is what I said. It was like he had fucked my whole college education right out of my head.

“What’s that? Faster and harder?” He laughed as grabbed my thighs and spun me around. He juggled me, holding my by cradling my tits in his palms as my knees sat on the edge of the table, spread, with my caves and ankles dangling off the end. This position would have been impossible without a cock his size, and it was only because he didn’t even need to get the bottom 12 inches of him into my pussy to be fucking me harder than I’d ever been fucked before. His hips pistoned up and the whole table shook as his every cockstabbing fuckthrust lifted me slightly.

Then he gave my ass a vicious spank, “TELL ME WHAT YOU’RE GONNA DO ABOUT THE SKATE PARK!” He shouted.

I could only gasp back in ragged sobs of pleasure, “I’ll keep it! THE PARK STAYS! FUCK! OOO YOU’RE BIG! SHIT!”

“NOT GOOD ENOUGH” He roared back, pulling out, backhanding my left butt-cheek with his hand and spanking the right again with his cock this time, the steel-club of flesh actually doing more damage, making my butt jiggle and dance, the shock-wave reverberating up to my tits.

I gaped from both mouths, pussy still back shunting juices onto the tabletop. He gave me a shove forward onto my hands and knees, then hopped up onto the table with me, this time seizing my ass and parting my cheeks, sandwiching the head of his humongous dick at my back door. My eyes went wide with terror.

“WAIT? WHAT DO YOU WANT!? I screamed.

“Two things.” He said calmly as he stuffed into my ass, my juices lubricating him enough to make the impossible task merely implausible. I screamed, liking something about the sensation of fullness even as the stretching hurt, beating my fists on the table in puddles of my own cream, unable to escape the advancing prick as it plowed deep within my ass.

“First, sweeten the deal.”

“HOW!?” I asked, confused as to what else I could do. There would be no case against the skate park.

Now he’d fed about a foot of his cock into my ass and stood up into a squat, using his immense strength to pull my ass into the air, splay my legs, and then step over me so that our bodies formed a complicated pretzel, legs twisted around the junction his cock was making of my posterior. Then he simply sat down, his weight and gravity driving almost all of his colossal length inside me, the thickness of him and the constant friction actually pushing the pressure into my cunt, triggering a surprisingly huge orgasm.

At the same time though, dear god how it hurt! I wanted him to somehow stop and go deeper at the same time. “OKAY OKAY! I’LL… I’LL… BUY THE CONDOS ACROSS THE STREET, KNOCK THEM DOWN, AND HAVE IT TURNED INTO MORE SKATE PARK!”

I squealed and screeched.

He looked casual a moment, seeming to contemplate this a few dozen fuckthrusts. “Okay. That will do.” He said, rewarding me with increased penetration, my pussy squirting out more juice from my almost totally dehydrated form as he spun me into a more traditional doggy-style pose, my tits exploding out from my arched back like a pair of bombs, my poor ass being used as a cocksleeve. He pounded hard, punctuating every few thrusts with a slap of his hand, his strong arm slapping and backhanding my goose-bump covered butt.

“Wh-Wh-What was the second thing you wanted!?” I gasped.

He shrugged as he fed my ass cock.

“To dump a gallon of cum in your ass.” He said matter-of-factly before abruptly picking up the pace and jamming himself into me like he really did want it to come out the other side. When I squinted between my tits to look at my belly, I really could see the pounding indentation of him, tenting my flesh, remaking my body in the image of his cock. The hung god jammed two fingers into my attention-starved pussy as he started to cum, my own snatch squirting juice back onto his arm as my ass began to reject his more than copious load. His cum truly was like a ball-batter, thick and nasty it spewed from my overcrowded hole, rolling down his cock in a sheet.

As he finally withdrew himself from me, a copious draught of it followed, as if someone had made the bottom of a gallon of milk disappear and the contents simply dropped out. I whimpered in a well-fucked pile as he gathered his skateboard, and left. True to our bet, he did so naked, but this would hardly be a matter of shame for him, and I could almost swear I heard him slap a few high fives to other skaters as he left the house with his titanic cock swinging and my juices still dripping from him.

Then, I got my checkbook, and began to write him the amount for the condos.

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