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Amy had everything going for her: fabulous looks; a prestigious and

high-paying professorship; the uniform respect of her colleagues in
Literature; a handsome and faithful and sexually powerful lover, Todd,
to
whom she'd soon be married. Every time she fucked with Todd, they both
had earth-shattering orgasms and found in each other only the most
complete satisfaction.

So where's the story? Well, Amy was enjoying this sex so much
mostly
because she had been repressing with a vengeance her one true fetish:
She
liked her cocks FAT. EXTREMELY fat. Nothing else mattered so long as
the
shaft more than filled her hand, and stretched her jaws to the breaking
point. She was not interested in being fucked by these cucumber dicks;
she only wanted to feel her hands and lips get sore from the stroking
and
sucking. Long before she met her fiancé, she had dated a string of
thickly hung guys who made her eyeballs bulge with joy. In many cases,
she found she could cum just from the thrill she felt when her blowjob
attempts failed for lack of a big enough mouth. So although her fat-dick

thing was a psychological obsession, when translated into action it made

her shudder and lose control.

As we mentioned, Todd was a bit of a stud: incredible indurance,
eight inches, willing to try anything, great at "eating lunch at the Y."

One evening, only minutes after they had both returned home from work,
Todd was kneeling at the delta when the bedside phone rang. Amy stopped

him and shushed him with much effort and got it on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"
"Amy? Is that you?"
"Yes it is. To whom am I speaking?"
"This is Al! Don't you remember me, Al Myers, from tenth grade?"
"Oh my goodness, Al! It's been that long, hasn't it?"
"Sure has. Listen, it took me forever to get your number. Believe

it or not, I'm living in Baltimore now, too. After my third wife left
me
I got a job with the Old Bay spice company. I'd love to meet you for
coffee or dinner or whatever."

By this time the brow on Todd's wet face was furrowed. "Sweetie,
come on! I want to see you writhe."

Amy held up her index finger and smiled. "Al, that'd be great.
How
about Hauser's tomorrow evening? I have to be near there anyway, for a
talk I'm giving at the Mechanic on John Barth and Ben Jonson."
"I'll be there at five-thirty and order the drinks. Hey, I really
want you to see my--"
"Don't say it, Al. I know. Five-thirty, then. Bye-bye."
"What was that all about?" Todd mumbled.
"A really old friend from high school. In the city now. Look,
don't
worry. I just wanted something to do while you're in D.C. these next
few
days. Trust me, hon." She smiled but her thoughts were somewhere else
already, in pants with an absurdly roomy crotch. It took all her
concentration to cum, even with Todd's cunning linguistics.

After dinner she gave Todd a nightcap blowjob, saying she was too
tired to fuck and that he had an early morning. Once again, Todd's
physical attributes were lacking in no respect; his dick measured two
inches across. Yet, for the first time in many years, she did not enjoy

the sucking. As her head bobbed up and down, she thought all the way
back
to the backseat of Al's car so long ago . . .

(this to be italicized)
He's moving my hand . . . oh my Gawd! "Al, is that you??"
"Sure is," he grinned. "I know I'm only seven inches, but I bet
you've never felt a sausage so fat."
I'm so happy! "No way! Not Dad's or my older brother's is even a
quarter that thick! Oh, Al, let me--"
"What's this? You're soaking wet! Unbelievable! I fingered you and
got almost no response."
"Yeah, well, until now I didn't know what I liked! Oh! PLEASE take

it out!" I kiss him. Out pops the prettiest, ugliest thing I've ever
seen.
It is so fat that the big vein that runs down the length is as wide as
my
fingernail. I grab huge handfuls of shaft and squeeze both hands around

it. Al is saying something, but I cannot hear him. I stretch my lips
around the head and pump the beercan shaft. When I hear my jaw-joint
pop,
I have the fullest orgasm imaginable . . .
"Honey, honey, I'm done! You might have swallowed!"
From the quantity of cum on her hand and around his balls, she saw
her fellating had been anything but robotic. "Sorry, I guess I got
carried away," she grinned, doing her best to clean up the jism. "Now
go
to sleep, dear. I'll see you Monday."
Next morning he woke her up by accident on his way out. Instead of

going back to sleep, she lay in bed for fifteen minutes, thinking of
Al's
donkey dick. It had been her first super-fat cock, and for the strength

of the thrills it gave her, her best. She could not imagine why his
wives
didn't stay. She missed being fully deprived of oxygen, and breathing
thick shaft instead . . .
She bolted up and rummaged through her wardrobe until she got to a
locked, inconspicuous box in the upper corner. For ten years she had
forgotten about it, and now she did not remember the combination. She
put
on a pair of stiletto pumps and jumped on the box with both feet.
Inside were two glossy magazines you've never heard of before,
"Stretched" and "Heavy Dong." She had ordered them special from a
now-defunct company that operated out of Singapore. To a disaffected
party their contents must have seemed absurd: comically thick dicks,
over
twice in girth what the biggest struggling female mouths could begin to
contain. Though most of these were obvious fakes, they still had quite
an
effect on Amy, who fingered herself while she stared. She wanted fat
cock.
She went to the kitchen and got a cucumber, and returned to her
mirror. She realized that at this point, a thick vegetable was doing
more
for her psychologically than Todd. She forced it into her mouth until
she
heard her favorite popping sound, grown more pronounced since her
previous
fat-dick escapades, and wondered if Al's ladypleaser had gotten even
fatter? Impossible.
She saw how sexy she looked, handling a thing she couldn't
encompass
with both hands. When she was a cheerleader in college (our Amy is a
well-rounded girl!), she had used the cucumber trick to get her
preferences across to the big and often black football players. Her
happiest undergraduate memories were Prof. Stetson's class on Foucault,
and endless nights spent nursing some dark bloated expanse of shaft.
She
forgot their names, but she never forgot their cocks. She was unashamed

about taking measurements and she kept a journal, with separate sections

for handjobs and blowjobs, in which she recorded what she handled and
how
she felt about it. She even weighed the heftiest specimens. She had
destroyed it out of paranoia and guilt once she and Todd were an item,
but
she knew its contents still. She remembered the time at the movies when

she went down on a total stranger and found him to be eight inches
around.
She remembered her only steady boyfriend in college, whom she called
"Fatty," even though he was a toothpick, and how he liked whipping her
in
the face with his heavy cock after watching her suck someone else's, not

as punishment, because Amy liked it too much. Once he left an
unmistakable imprint on her left cheek and she had to miss class for a
week!
Once downtown, she had her office hours in a daze. She checked her

watch constantly. At various times she reproached herself for her mental

infidelity, but more often her lust overrode her conscience. All she
wanted from sex was an endless supply of fat cocks to fondle and suck.
At five forty-five she found Al in a secluded booth that was darker

than most. He stood up to hug her and plant a gentlemanly kiss on her
cheek. However, the look in his eyes suggested he knew he had her with
his dick, that she'd do anything for it.
"You look great, Al. That's a snazzy suit."
"Yes, well, the tailoring was expensive."
She smirked. Every effort at small talk would lead them back to
the
same thing. They ordered hurriedly, anxious to return to their
talk-privacy. Al had ordered her favorite, a double Manhattan, and she
surprised herself by shooting it. Her face was all flushed, and she
started in on the real matter tentatively.
"Al, I'm engaged now, but for a long while, after you moved away, I

realized I was addicted to, well, you know, and I selectively dated and
seduced really thick guys."
"Addicted to fat cock bulging out of control?"
"Shh! Yes, you know it. My fiancé is long, but oh-so-average in
the
girth department. Until your phonecall I hadn't thought about it, and
everything was fine, but now, just don't know what to do!"
"Amy, I want you to tell me about these cocks. How many truly fat
guys would you say you've sucked or jacked over the years?"
"Jeez, I don't know. I filled a diary with info about them . . .
maybe fifty?"
Al was visibly impressed. "And did you have your best orgasms that

way?'
"Yes, of course! I hardly fucked at all until I met Todd. Of
course, I had a slutty reputation, but I barely cared. I was wild."
"Did anyone ever break your jaw?"
"No, but I've often thought I'd actually get off if that happened."

"OK, Amy, satisfy my agressive male ego. This is what I came to
ask:
Of those hundred, how many really compared to me in fatness?"
"Fishing for compliments, Al? You know damn well how fat you were.

I'd say maybe three or four."
"And of those three, how many were black?"
"Two. Both incredibly long too, no offense. But length never
mattered to me."
"And the other guy? White? How old was he?"
"Older. I was twenty-one at the time, he was maybe thirty. A
full-grown man. We had a position where EVERY time he slid in and out
of
my mouth, my jaws would pop. It was a thrill."
"I want you to tell me the story of each of my fat rivals. Make me

hard, Amy. Tell me how much you loved sucking their thickness."

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"My pleasure, but, wow, it's been so long since I've thought of all

this. Todd's so good to me I decided to cope with his mediocre
dimensions. That's how I first enjoyed fucking. Well, let's see.
Freshman year, after you, there was Otis. He turned out to be a
student,
too, but that was a coincidence.
"See, I had been pursuing specialty mags for over a year, and had a

couple of videos, but all that paraphernalia didn't give me the kicks I
got at the Spass theater on Fridays. They had a lot of reels
emphasizing
length--and, just to be clear, I'm not one of those Peter North/ Jeff
Stryker adoring girls--but I glimpsed the occasional fat shaft and would

finger myself to orgasm.
"Otis was a couple of seats over, munching popcorn noisily and
kneading his jeans. His low grunts were bothersome, actually. He kept
looking around nervously, so I could tell he wanted to unzip. Of
course,
I pretended not to look, but out of the corner of my eye I caught his
shadow. You've heard the old cliche, "as big around as my wrist."
Well,
this guy was as big around as my upper arm. I knew the management was
pretty laissez-faire about customers getting it on, so I moved over and
whispered, ‘Can I suck on your hose?' He said I was welcome to try. I
had
never tasted black cock before, and I was feeling hungry and nasty. I
licked slowly around the head, and reveled in just how long that
tongue-orbit took. My timing was perfect--the guy on the screen was
getting blown, too. I limbered up with a few quick mouth exercises,
sucked in my breath, and did my best, but alas. His cock was too dry.
I
couldn't get anything going.
"‘Hey' I said. ‘It's SOO fat I'm gonna need some help.'
Misunderstanding me, he smeared some popcorn butter down his footlong.
My
stomach turned, but I needed fatness way too much. I went down again
with
enthusiasm, and had to breathe through my nose. He pulled out to cum
with
a popping sound so loud it turned heads. His cum was frighteningly
thick.
I licked my lips afterwards. I kept a hand on his shaft for the rest of

the movie, fingering myself while I squeezed his hard meat. I got to
know
him over lunch the next day, and we held onto the movie theater routine
for over a month, until he got some girl pregnant. I was crushed. I
guess Otis wanted more than a blowjob sometimes."
Al was curious. "You never fucked this porn-star quality guy?"
"I told you, until Todd I was never interested. The best vaginal
orgasm, I found, was far weaker than the ones I had when I was keyed-up
psychologically because of the look of some big dick. All I ever wanted

to do was suck and jack, anything that would give me fat dick contact."
"I don't remember your lips ever being quite as full as they are
now.
And your bottom lip seems always to droop. What's up with that? So
much
fat cock?"
"Yup. These guys stretched me thoroughly. And, the more flexible
my
mouth, the bigger things I could use to mesmerize guys. I had a shy guy

friend who used to like to watch me cram two unpeeled bananas in here."
The soup, a delectable vichyssoise, was served and ignored
"I met Rick the fall of my sophomore year, right after I had
started
cheering. He was a running back, but our first encounter was at the
pool.
He worked as a lifeguard there, and I used to swim laps the hour before
closing time. One day I swam right up to his lifeguard's chair and
asked
him why he always kept a towel wrapped around his waist. I thought it
would be inconvenient should he ever actually have to save someone's
life.
He blushed. Have you ever seen a black man blush?
"So he was vastly reluctant to say. I teased him that he didn't
want
anyone to see what was under the towel. I had touched a nerve. I kept
bugging him to jump in until finally he did let the terrycloth drop. So

did my mouth. Stuffed into his red Speedo was something that looked
thicker soft than most of my conquests hard. ‘Are you happy?' he
smiled.
Remember, we were alone. I hopped out of the pool and dropped to my
knees
and started sucking him through the fabric. I made a lot of noise. He
came all over my hair and it was a real mess. The thing about his cock
was, it barely grew at all as it tumesced. I could have it fat-soft or
fat-hard as I pleased. Of course, I usually went for the hard, but
sometimes it was fun (and easier on my jaws) to play with my soft toy.
Because of his dimensional statisticity, I nicknamed his cock Sir Cum.
Get it? He was really cool about my jaw fetish. Yes, Rick was my big
boy
and I was his magic mouth."
Al saw that she was in a reverie. The waiter's clearing throat
snapped her out of it. "The salad, folks." Once again, this decadent,
expensive meal was to go untasted.
"So Amy, spill your guts. Who was Fat Man #3? I know you didn't
tolerate any Little Boys."
"His name was Ryan but for blatant reasons I called him Fatty. Not

in public, of course, but just because even with his swollen dimensions
he
had a real insecurity problem. I think he was a mysogynist on some
level.
He loved cock-whipping me, even to bruises. He certainly had the
equipment for it. His was the heaviest I've ever known, not quite two
pounds. And he liked to watch! He once had me sucking him while I
jacked
off Otis AND Rick! You can imagine my joy, though. Fatty got me
submissive, yessiree. I liked having his massive white shaft pressing
on
one cheek, while some black stud was warming my other. Then for both to

cum all over my face. Fatty's dick was so--so--dense! As hard as I
squeezed it, it never budged. And, like I said, he popped my jaws more
than anyone."
"Now, Amy, we were tenth-graders, right?"
"Yeah." She realized something all of a sudden! "Oh my--no way,
Al!"
"Yes, ma'am. Had you ever considered that my cock might have
GROWN??"
At this point a very embarrassed waiter served up two helpings of
sauerbraten. They waited until he hurried off and left their food
untouched.
"Al!!! Please whip it out for old time's sake!"
"Not yet, hon."
"But, come ON! I've always needed your girth. Tell me that another

girl has given you better head! Hell, my forearms got muscular jacking
off your monster! I was a dedicated fat cock slave, and I want my
reward." She couldn't believe she was saying these things!"
"You were the best I ever had. And I'm quite hard now, but don't
you
dare cop a feel. I prefer to tantalize you. How thick was I, way back
when?"
"A question I can answer by comparison! You must have been between

seven-and-a-half and eight inches around. And seven inches long."
"You got it. I'm sorry to tell it, but you just missed a growth
spurt! In the summer before junior year, my shaft got thicker and
veinier.
My head looked undersized by comparison, but I know you were never much
of
a head freak."
She wiped spittle from the corner of her mouth. She spoke in low,
smoldering tones, grabbing the edges of the table with both hands. "Al.

Please. Tell me how big."
He chuckled. "Actually, Amy, I prefer to tell you that it weights
exactly two pounds. And that I've broken three sets of jaws."
She did the math. "Not your wives?"
"Yes, them. None of them was willing to do what I needed. But we,

we were a team, Amy. I've never met such a size queen."
"And you never will. Tell me how big."
"You insist?"
"Yes! And whip it out!!"
"Nine."
"Nine inches around? No FUCKING WAY! No wonder you broke the jaws
of
those poor things!" At that point she shot her hand under the table to
his
crotch. She sucked in her breath, barely able to conceive of the girth
of
the new, fatter Al. Thicker than ever. Thicker than anyone.
"You have those black guys beat, you fucking STUD!" She was
soaking.
"Let's get out of here, you sadist. I can wait until we get back to
your
place, but NO longer."
He threw some cash on the table, and skillfully grabbed his
overcoat
before Amy could spy the bulge. They hurried out and hailed a cab.
Luckily for Amy, Al's apartment was five minutes away. They
fidgeted
in the elevator and ran down the fifth-floor hall. As soon as they were

inside his door, Amy fell to her knees.
"Show it to me! Feed it to me! Beat me with it!"
Al was determined to make a ceremony of it. He took off his coat,
shirt and tie, unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants--and then slyly
turned his back to the waiting Amy and folded these items carefully over

the back of a chair. When he faced her again, she saw how big in the
crotch his boxers were. It was something out of "A Clockwork Orange."
Her lips and chin moist with drool, she nuzzled her face against the
still-clothed shaft.
"Oh! It's like a heartbeat! And it smells so GOOOD!" She moved her

hand toward the bulge, only to have Al slap it away."
"Impatient slut! THIS is how we're gonna do it. Close your eyes."

She obeyed. He lowered the elastic, revealing his nightmare tube of a
dick, and pressed on his full erection until it approached downward
vertical. Then he moved near her and released. The force knocked her
face backwards.
"OW! I mean MMMM! Oh my God, Al, it's beautiful! Like in those
magazines! It's all I ever wanted!" She took the girth in both hands
and
pumped as hard as she could. "Look how much is left over! Look how
much
I can't surround!" His precum was incredibly thick. "I want my wrists
to
get sore from jacking your cock, Al! I want you to break my jaw, too."
"Amy! How would you explain THAT to a fiancé?" He began to
soften.
"He'll see! He'll understand. You can be our marital aid!" She
placed a quick phone call to Todd's hotel and, in the most unrealistic
part of this story, he agreed to the whole deal after only a condensed
version of the details, and even asked to stay on the line so he could
jack off.
Al got agressive. "Praise me! Humiliate him!"
She was breathless from the physical exertion of double-pumping his

tree trunk, and so sounded sexy. "Al, nobody has a cock like yours.
Compared with your fat monster, my husband has a skinny boy shaft. I
want
you to rape my mouth with your thick dick. He can just eat my pussy."
Al came and she ate it up, but he wasn't anywhere near done. The
time had come for Amy to face the fatness. They let him soften up just
enough for her to actually fit it in her petite mouth. She understood
and
courted the danger. She gestured for him to force himself in as he
wished.
He started plunging with his hips. Amy's mouth was stretched wider

than any human being's should be. Her eyes were rolled back in her head

and she was moaning inaudibly. She slapped his ass, a signal to pick up

the pace. At this point he was maybe three inches were in, and she was
full. She was a fish caught on a hook. He was going to orgasm, because

if he didn't cum and then shrink, his dick would be stuck in her mouth.
He fed her his hose faster, and he heard something creak. But her jaws
didn't break! Amy the Wonder Fellatrix had survived the ultimate fat
test. She had a log of hot flesh, nine inches in circumference, fully
jammed between her distended jaws. She pumped with vigor on the
horsecock
now successfully in her throat, and just from that she came twice in a
row. When Al came, she didn't even taste it. She blew him four times
that night, and jacked him off another two. Al and Amy became partners
for life.