Size Matters
- 4 years ago
- 6
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Size Matters free porn video
Does size matter? I used to say it didn't, but in some circumstances it now does. I'm constantly being asked this question, both by random quickie hookups and from my couple of long term bitchholes, both of which love my biggest of strapons. Is it their size obsession with what goes in their slutholes that fascinates them with what I want in me? Maybe, but even before I was the man in one of these relationships, he was always worried I wanted more than he offered, despite my joy of his larger than average length and girth.
About a year ago, I took the bait of a kind man at the bar who bought me a few drinks. He was interesting, not too pushy, and quite handsome and fit. We went back to his place and were quickly naked and frolicking about. This man is really something in the cock department. I've had a few large cocks through the years, but never one that got as hard as he did. Wow. His girth made my jaw sore, his length wonderfully rubbed across my cervix, and his rigidity gave my ass a pounding like none other. I stayed the night and enjoyed it all again in the morning, and yet again after a mid morning nap. I drove home in a dreamy state.
Predictably, my bitch was beyond anxious to hear about my night. Annoyed, something tripped in my mind and was likely the beginning of embracing my mean approach to dominating. I contained my inner rage and acted all kind and sweet. I promised to tell him all about it while fucking him with my strapon. After another much needed nap, I woke feeling particularly mean. I told my bitch to make me some coffee and to bring the mouth gag. When he brought it to me, I strapped it firmly in place and remarked how nice it will be to not have to listen to his shit. I took a handful of hair, looked deep into his eyes, and told him things are different now and hoped he was ready for a new reality. I saw fear; my still sore and gaped pussy got juicy!
I told him to douche his pussy clean, and to get all the strapons out and ready for me in the guestroom. I told him to take a whole Viagara and wait for me with my cocks. For the next hour I enjoyed my coffee and rubbed my tender pussy to the edge. I had some sexy chat with my fling and secured another date. I couldn't have had a bigger head of steam. I dressed up in my sexy outfit and loudly walked in my boots to the next room. My bitch was a slobbering mess.
I took complete control over him. I put him on his back, because it was important for me to look deep into his eyes for what I had ready to tell him. I locked his wrists to his ankles and then to the tether and hooks in the ceiling. I surveyed my cocks all laid out and grabbed the smallest one. I took my bitch's medically hard dick, clit to him, and compared it to my smallest strapon. It's about 7 inches long and about an inch and a half wide, very formidable in the real world and similar to his own member. Jim is what we called this strapon usually, but I told my bitch from now on we were going to call it 'the little guy'. I slapped his erect member very hard with the little guy and announced that the answer to his incessant question was yes, size matters. I could tell his cock wanted to deflate with his ego at this point. Tears welled into his eyes and I didn't care, in fact I liked it. All these years listening to his crap, I was giving him the answer he wanted to hear. I grabbed his artificially erect cock, squeezed it hard, and asked why I would ever want this in me again. His tears spilled over and he started shaking. Just then, we both heard my phone buzz to an inbound text.
I looked at my phone and smiled, a couple quick texts back and forth, I looked at my pathetic bitch all tied up and defeated. I took the little guy, and slapped his dick and face a few times with it. I stood over him, set the little guy on his chest, lifted my sexy leather skirt and lowered my very wet pussy on to it. I just sat there on it, exchanged a couple more texts with that hunky guy. My bitch was beyond himself. I just stared at him, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face. I stood up, still staring athim. The little guy fell out. Sloppy with my juices, I slapped him in the face again with it. I nonchalantly frowned at it, picked up the nearby waste basket and dropped it in. I smiled at my bitch and laughingly asked why in the world did we need this around anymore?!? My bitch was completely defeated.
I grabbed the John Holmes strapon and laid it on his chest. I told him to study it, while now paying more attention to my phone than him now. A few texts later I looked deep again into his eyes and told him I had a slightly longer and just as thick dick as Mr Holmes here to tend to. I left as I had entered, my boots loudly upon the floor. I grabbed my keys and purse and shouted on my way out, "Size matters mother fucker! Size definitely matters!!!"
The rest of this true story later...
About a year ago, I took the bait of a kind man at the bar who bought me a few drinks. He was interesting, not too pushy, and quite handsome and fit. We went back to his place and were quickly naked and frolicking about. This man is really something in the cock department. I've had a few large cocks through the years, but never one that got as hard as he did. Wow. His girth made my jaw sore, his length wonderfully rubbed across my cervix, and his rigidity gave my ass a pounding like none other. I stayed the night and enjoyed it all again in the morning, and yet again after a mid morning nap. I drove home in a dreamy state.
Predictably, my bitch was beyond anxious to hear about my night. Annoyed, something tripped in my mind and was likely the beginning of embracing my mean approach to dominating. I contained my inner rage and acted all kind and sweet. I promised to tell him all about it while fucking him with my strapon. After another much needed nap, I woke feeling particularly mean. I told my bitch to make me some coffee and to bring the mouth gag. When he brought it to me, I strapped it firmly in place and remarked how nice it will be to not have to listen to his shit. I took a handful of hair, looked deep into his eyes, and told him things are different now and hoped he was ready for a new reality. I saw fear; my still sore and gaped pussy got juicy!
I told him to douche his pussy clean, and to get all the strapons out and ready for me in the guestroom. I told him to take a whole Viagara and wait for me with my cocks. For the next hour I enjoyed my coffee and rubbed my tender pussy to the edge. I had some sexy chat with my fling and secured another date. I couldn't have had a bigger head of steam. I dressed up in my sexy outfit and loudly walked in my boots to the next room. My bitch was a slobbering mess.
I took complete control over him. I put him on his back, because it was important for me to look deep into his eyes for what I had ready to tell him. I locked his wrists to his ankles and then to the tether and hooks in the ceiling. I surveyed my cocks all laid out and grabbed the smallest one. I took my bitch's medically hard dick, clit to him, and compared it to my smallest strapon. It's about 7 inches long and about an inch and a half wide, very formidable in the real world and similar to his own member. Jim is what we called this strapon usually, but I told my bitch from now on we were going to call it 'the little guy'. I slapped his erect member very hard with the little guy and announced that the answer to his incessant question was yes, size matters. I could tell his cock wanted to deflate with his ego at this point. Tears welled into his eyes and I didn't care, in fact I liked it. All these years listening to his crap, I was giving him the answer he wanted to hear. I grabbed his artificially erect cock, squeezed it hard, and asked why I would ever want this in me again. His tears spilled over and he started shaking. Just then, we both heard my phone buzz to an inbound text.
I looked at my phone and smiled, a couple quick texts back and forth, I looked at my pathetic bitch all tied up and defeated. I took the little guy, and slapped his dick and face a few times with it. I stood over him, set the little guy on his chest, lifted my sexy leather skirt and lowered my very wet pussy on to it. I just sat there on it, exchanged a couple more texts with that hunky guy. My bitch was beyond himself. I just stared at him, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face. I stood up, still staring athim. The little guy fell out. Sloppy with my juices, I slapped him in the face again with it. I nonchalantly frowned at it, picked up the nearby waste basket and dropped it in. I smiled at my bitch and laughingly asked why in the world did we need this around anymore?!? My bitch was completely defeated.
I grabbed the John Holmes strapon and laid it on his chest. I told him to study it, while now paying more attention to my phone than him now. A few texts later I looked deep again into his eyes and told him I had a slightly longer and just as thick dick as Mr Holmes here to tend to. I left as I had entered, my boots loudly upon the floor. I grabbed my keys and purse and shouted on my way out, "Size matters mother fucker! Size definitely matters!!!"
The rest of this true story later...
Fay
- 19.12.2020
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