I m Knot A Whore
- 1 year ago
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Hollis Not A Whore free porn video
Holli’s Not A Whore
By SizeQueenSupreme
(Fans interested in joining my fan club should feel free to message me on this page)
The guy was fucking ripped, no doubt about that. Pecs carved from solid stone, shoulders with definition like a bunch of bananas, biceps like Prize Hams, a veritable 12 pack of abs that were tight enough to show through his shirt, thighs the width of my narrow waist, and strong looking hands that might have even been large enough to palm even one of my HH cups. Now if only he weren’t an asshole.
Said asshole had just rammed into my shopping cart with his as I browsed amongst the fruits and vegetables of the produce aisle.
“Hey Jackass! Watch where you’re going!” I blurted.
“Oops! Sorry ma’am, it was an accident.” He stammered.
I scowled at him, noting that his eyes were indeed glued to my t-shirt bending bra-boulders. Angrily flicking my short brown hair I called him on it.
“Accident my ‘A’! You were staring at my T!”
“Wh-uh?” He blinked at my wordplay.
“My breasts. Quit lookin’ at ’em, before you hit another cart.” I snapped.
“I wasn’t looking at your breasts!” He protested, moving his head around to cast his gaze elsewhere, any where else he could get them. “I was looking at those watermelons.”
I folded my arms beneath my watermelo-nish rack and lifted an eyebrow, fighting a smirk.
“Unnah, I mean, I was checking out those Cassavas.”
I lifted my other eyebrow, snickering now.
“No! No that’s not what I meant! Pumpkins! I was definitely taking a long hard look at a couple of pumpkins!”
“Strike three Mister. Give it up.”
He sighed, slumping a little in defeat. I looked him up and down, and now I was the one guilty of ogling. Not his great muscles, nor that chiseled version of Keanu Reeves face of his, but rather that massive bulge bursting in his loose-fitting pants. That couldn’t be real!
I had to know.
“And if being a pervert weren’t enough! You’re clearly one of those overcompensating gym-rat guys! How could you expect anyone to be gullible enough to believe that!?” I said, pointing at his crotch.
He gasped…then got an odd smile on his face. “Now whose the pervert? You were checking out my junk!”
“You’re the one who crammed a pickle in there!”
“Oh please, I’m much bigger than a pickle.”
I cast my eyes around the produce. “Okay, a Zucchini then.”
He just laughed. “Why would I stuff my pants with something smaller than my actual tool?”
The color drained from my face. He seemed confident. Genuine.
“Well what did you cram in there, then?”
“Come with me.” He said. I shrugged and followed. We meandered the shelves and counters until he’d brought us to the deli section. “If a man wanted to stuff something in his pants to be like me, he’d need this.” He said placing an object in both my hands.
I looked at the baguette I looked at him. I looked at the bread again. Then I looked at him.
“Bull SHIT!” I spat, throwing the French bread into my grocery cart.
“I’m not lying.” He said with a calm shrug.
“I’ll make you a bet,” I said, “Come back to my place. If you’re anywhere NEAR the size of a baguette, I’ll let you get to know my tits up close. Of course when you flop out whatever you’re ACTUALLY stuffing in there, you have to cover the cost of my grocery bill.
“You’re on.” He said. “I’ll see you out front. Oh, and my name is Paul.”
“Holli.” I said. While he went away, I took my time, picking out expensive groceries in vast quantities, several bottles of champagne, saffron, and everything else pricey I could think of. Then I walked him to my nice little corvette, and took us both back to my loft.
* * *
“All right. Drop ’em.” I commanded. We stood in the foyer of my too damned expensive place, the groceries still in bags on the ground.
“Woah, what if I don’t want to?” He said.
“Then you lose the bet and write me a check for the amount on this receipt.” I said, handing him the $514.67 bill.
He sighed.
“I’m not hard yet. Do I at least get to be properly ready?”
“Sure, but I don’t keep porno mags around here or something. And you don’t get to see MY tits unless you win, so what the fuck do you expect me to do?”
“I want you to say some stuff. Tell me what you’d really do for a man that size.”
I rolled my eyes into the next zip code.
“All right. Fine. For a man that size I would…I would get down on my knees and worship his cock.” I leaned in, talking more intensely and softer.
“I’d polish the tip of his knob with my tongue until I could see my own whorish face in it.”
Now I was whispering.
“I’d cradle his fat balls in my palms and tug on them while I drank every last drop of his cum. That’s right, I’d be nothing but a jizz-jar for a man that size, a slutty little big-tittied bitch with a gutful of spunk and a cuntful of cock.”
He groaned, rubbing his hands along his clad length, far, too far down his leg as I spoke, whispering in his ear now as I watched with interest at the hardening schlong. I was definitely beginning to get scared of losing. I couldn’t really afford that much! My rent check would bounce!
He unzipped.
His pants dropped to the floor and my jaw followed right behind them.
Holy mother of God.
Trembling I held the French bread to the top of his hard cock, a little whimper coming out of my cockstunned face. His cockhead was perhaps four inches LONGER than the baguette My brain fought to reject this reality, the fact that I was out 500 dollar only the smaller shock. My knees were weak. My eyes just roamed up an down the thing. The head was fat and spear-like in the way it bulged, but even that wasn’t as thick as the middle of his shaft, which flared out like my thigh in girth.
His arrogant smile was now in full bloom, and I looked timidly, helplessly, in his sparkling dark eyes.
“I’ll bet you regret having said those things.” He said
I nodded.
“I’ll bet you regret it… because now you realize that they’re true.” He added.
Oh my god. He was right. My face flushed with my humiliation.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like my reward now. Who knows… it might actually get me the rest of the way hard.”
My eyes bulged and I stared down as he lifted the middle of his shaft, showing me how it still drooped a bit, it was indeed only a semi.
I fainted.
* * *
When I woke up, I was a little colder. Looking down I saw that my top was off, and my bra was next to me, HH cups you could practically fit my head into splayed on the ground. Paul stood over me, hand slowly wanking his glorious cock with long majestic strokes.
“You’ve got a great pair, Holli.”
So did he. I stared at how his huge balls bounced while he fisted his prick, amazed at the way his girth kept even his long fingers from really meeting around it.
“You…you can play with them…if you want.” I said, still blinking awake at this point.
“Yes. I can.” He said as he put his feet on either side of my hips and squatted down, balls resting on my thighs like a pair of ripe canteloupes, hands reaching up to cup and squeeze my huge funbags. His touch was masterful, and my nipples stiffened right up in response to his rough, skilled caresses. He pressed my knobs together, fondling those hard little nubs in the middle now, jiggling my tits against one another with an almost casual expression on his face.
I arched my back and moaned, body instinctively trying to find a way to offer more of itself up to him. My boobs felt hot, tingly, and almost swollen with pleasure. He lowered his huge cock onto my right breast, pressing his shaft into it, making flesh conformed to his shape, titflesh wrapping up and around the sides of his thick love log, nipple a button of enjoyment where it ground against the underside of his astounding tool.
He swiveled his hips, grinding his shaft back and forth across my chest, giving my boobs a thorough smooshing with each pass, then he let his thick fuckstick slam down between them, making me grunt from the heavy weight and impact, his big hands gathering my tits up to wrap around himself, fucking my bra-bombs like they were no thing to him. His cock was so long and his balls so ponderous, that with every thrust the meaty nutsack raked across my still-clad clitoris, the mass of his cream-crates pressing through the denim fabric to really make my already overwrought clit sing with pleasure.
“Let me suck it!” I begged. “Let me cram your big fat cock in slutty mouth and lip-fuck you. I want your cum in my tummy so bad! Your huge cock is so fucking long anyway, you can keep right on balling my boobs!”
As if on cue, his huge prong’s slit opened and spilled a nasty wad of pre-spunk on to my face. I slowly smeared a fingertip through it, then brought that finger to my mouth, moaning my approval as I drank him in, loving the taste of his sweet sack syrup.
Then he tilted his hips down and plowed his thick head into my mouth, spreading my jaws so wide that my upper lip almost completely covered my nostrils. My tongue vainly swatted and slipped along the humongous invader, but he was in control of this blowjob, lustily fucking my tits as he stuffed his length in and out of me. The sweep of his uncut cockead was so vast it didn’t pop out of my mouth the way any normal cock would have, but rather pulled my whole face after it, my lips getting stretched away from my face in a grotesque mask of whorish slavery.
There was nowhere for the copious precum to flow either, and I was making strangled noises from deep in my throat as a perpetual stream of it ran down my gullet, threatening to fill my stomach and lungs as one, my outward snorts to breath disgorging thick drops of him, battering my upper lip in this preview load.
Despite all the difficulty, he seemed impressed at my performance, and abandoned my tits entirely to draw up and stuff a little more meat into my throat. His now-hard length was easily over two feet, and I wasn’t going to be fitting all of that in this life time, but I tried hard, forcing my gag reflex to the back of my mind, ignoring the protests the nerves in my throat mad. My eyes rolled in their sockets as he dug his dong deeper and deeper, waves of nausea colliding with the tide of lust, the organs normally intended to help me eat and breathe now only serving the purpose of pleasuring this impossible impaling prick.
With one final frustrated grunt, his tremendous gash-grinder threatening to push my head through the floor, he stuffed fully half of himself into me, shaking my head up and down with his hands, precum and drool building around his cock, a moist mess with nowhere to go it was stopped up so tight. When he withdrew at last, my whole system went into reverse, a veritable geyser of air and slobber and prespunk spewing from between my lips, the dense wet wad finally splattered back down between my eyes, smearing the whole of my face.
“Well done, little suckslut. You’re really earned that orgasm.”
“What orgasm?” I asked, walking right into his trap.
“This one.” He responded, abruptly grabbing my hips, and lifting me like the nothing I was to sit on his shoulders, pussy mashed into his face. He began to voraciously devour me like this, eating me like I was nothing more then ripe fruit on the vine for him to nourish his libido with. Although he didn’t need to use the wall for extra support, he slammed my back against it all the same, using the barrier to cram his tongue deeper into my snatch, digging out the insides of my flour with hungry moans and horny chuckles.
The orgasm he’d been talking about only moments before abruptly went off, my whole body flushing and shuddering as my pussy abruptly blasted his face with its deepest juices, nasty strands of my sex running down his jaw and chiseled cheek-bones, dripping from his earlobes and ultimately dripping all over his magnificent muscles. He devoured every drop of my pussy product that he could, putting a hand under my ass to hold me up while he brought his other arm up and around, expertly seizing my clit between thumb and forefinger, grinding the quivering little nub as his long, thick tongue continued to deep-fuck me.
I could only scream, “OH YOU HORSE HUNG FUCKING CUNT LICKER! OH FUCKING EAT ME! EAT MY LITTLE PIE! TASTE MY FUCKING PUSSY! SHIT YOU’RE GOOD!”
Perhaps this was what he’d been waiting to hear. The stud dropped me, slipping his grip and backing up, letting me sit on his cocknob for a moment, letting the horror crawl across my face as I came to realize what was about to become of me. My nether-lips were spread wide on his head, not yet giving the ultra-girthy cockfist entrance to me, but right on the verge. My world was still spinning and my clit was still quivering, and I braced my arms on his gorgeous shoulders and took a deep breath.
“Be gentle.” I whimpered.
“No.” He said, dropping me onto the meat, letting innards know what it felt like to have 8 inches of bread-loaf thick megacock spread them, the cruel cock pussy-burstingly thick inside me as it swelled in pleasure. His talented tongue moved to my tits as he began to fuck me, slow sensuous licks that dragged across my silver-dollar aureoles and engorged nipples, making my overstuffed pussy weep with pleasure.
He tilted me back off of his face, putting my shoulders against the wall, letting it hold me there as he began to piston his hips back and forth, fucking me fast but only slowly feeding my pussy more of his length, adding an inch every few powerful thrusts. My second orgasm blasted from my cunt like a water balloon had burst inside of it, the resulting sprays around the tight seal of his cock fine and shimmering like mist.
Almost without pause Paul rotated me, now splaying my chest against the wall, tits slipping sweatily against the paint as he gave it to me hard and fast, lifting me with what seemed like the strength of his pillar of pussy pounding prongflesh alone. I put my hands above my head like a prisoner being frisked and ground my hips back against him, just trying to get my drooling sex crammed with a little more meat. I’m not certain exactly exactly how much I was taking at this point, but glancing back it looked like more than half of him was vanishing inside me.
It hurt so good.
My face felt flush as my next orgasm started and my vaginal vice clamped down on him, milking his fat prick like it had only broken into me to steal stuff from the place. I don’t think I could have squeezed him tighter with both fists, and he might have been trying to delay his own release by abruptly dumping me onto the ground.
Paul stood over my lewdly running his hands up and down his monumental cock, a sheen of both our juices coating his hands. He swung his hips and battered my head against the wall with his pendulous nut-butter-bag.
“Suck my big fat balls, bitch.” He growled, his face overtaken with an animal lust.
Timidly I poked out my tongue, gently slurping the gunk from his gargantuan fuck-gun with slow hot licks. He seemed to lose patience with this and grabbed a double fist-full of my hair, tugging my face forward into his scrotum, making me submit to the size and power of his massive man-globes, smearing them all over my face before hooking a finger into the corner of my mouth, tugging it open to harshly cram a ball inside.
Holding my head on either side he violently shook me all over, sadistically pleasuring the one ball I could fit in my mouth with me like I wasn’t a person, but a thing, cramming the humongous nut into my throat, holding it there until I slapped his thighs in submission. He groaned with pleasure as I spit the fat nut out in a stream of oral excretion, shoving the other huge ball against my lips, not making me eat it like the other one, but making sure I had made out with it until it was dripping before pulling back to level his cock tip at my mouth.
Paul squeezed the middle of his shaft and drew the skin of it forward, letting his uncut foreskin conceal his head and even protrude a little forward. I didn’t need to be told what to do this time, and gingerly swabbed my tongue over the loose length of cocktip, before sucking it into my mouth. His cock was so big, that sucking his foreskin was a little like sucking the soft cock of a normally endowed man, and I treated it as such, curling and twisting it with my cheeks and tongue, slipping the latter inside and all around.
Finally he released his fist, letting the sheer size and girth of his erect cock force the skin into contracted, and shoving forward, cramming my face full of his redonkulous ramrod, working himself once more into my throat, using the fact that my head was pinned to the wall to really rail me, this time getting more than half of his cock into my already sore and ravaged esophagus, before roughly pulling it out. I gasped, coughed, and wretched, curling into a fetal position at his feet while I fought to regain my breath. A thick rope of nastiness was still connecting his cock to my jaw, and as I sputtered there, he raised and twirled his fuckstick, spiraling the mess onto my face like so much honey.
When I’d finally regained my breath and pushed myself back up to a sitting position, he grabbed me again, carrying me into my kitchen. Paul put my left heel on the counter, letting my other stay on the floor as he once again shoved himself inside me. This time he was playing for keeps, and gave me no time to ready myself as he pumped my pussy full of shaft. He roared as he started to powerfuck me, roughly wrecking my innards with thrust after thrust of endless meat.
The kitchen shook as he geared up his speed, balls slapping away, battering against one of my cabinet doors, gradually knocking it from its hinges.
My pussy continued creaming and crying as my moans became ragged gasps.
My tits wobbled and slapped together heavily, the smacking sound echoing in the flat faster and faster as his hips went quicker and quicker until the noise was almost like some distant audience applauding.
He deserved applause, sweat beading on his brow as pulled me back and bent me down, sticking my head into the cabinet his balls had opened. Now he put a hip on the counter to put his huge body over me, cramming my upturned cunt full of hulking, hung meat. His balls beat my clit as he drilled me, splattering my nice clean floor with my juices each time he withdrew 14 inches of his humongous shaft, only to cram it back in a fifth of a second later.
His fucking became so forceful, other doors in the rattled open, dishes tumbled to the floor, and cups crashed around pots and pans, but I didn’t care, this tremendous fuckstud was taking me to heaven and hell with every long plunge of his cock, sucking my pussy almost inside out on the backstrokes and condensing my internal organs with each deep plunge. It was like the deeper he went, the more he invented new nerve endings that I’d never had, or at the very least discovered them where no other man was equipped to find them.
As I came yet again, he slapped each of my tits, just to watch them jiggle, then lifted me up and set my ass on the counter, lifting my long flexible legs, pinning my ankles next to my ears as his cock shoved what felt like a mile inside me, using the new position to feed what, 18? 22? two feet? Of cock into me, his big heavy nuts finally slapping wetly against my protruding asscheeks. Every few dozen of these punishing strokes he’d pull out to let my poor pummeled pussy squirt its heavy payload out across my kitchen, pooling in the saucers and plates we’d already knocked to the floor.
Smirking he seized his cock by the base and aggressively thumped the shaft of it against my clit in a steady drumbeat, bringing another pleasured cry from me with every thump.
“Oh you FUCKER! YOU HUNG FUCKING FUCKER!” I grunted as he pleasured me with this barest of contacts.
He stared me in the eye, and seized one of the saucers, slurping a lusty drink of my girl juice as he kept slapping orgasms out of me.
“Hm. Tastes like a slut to me.” He sneered.
“Who are you calling a fucking slut!” I blurted, giving him two middle fingers.
“Oh.” He said calmly. “The whore slut bitch who’s getting cockslapped with her own snatch-sauce.”
“But I’m not getting cockslapped wit–” I fell for his trap again. He had smeared his hands over some of the plates with my cunt cream and slathered it on the tip of his dick, and as I started my sentence he suddenly smacked the side of my head with it, making my eyes roll. I saw stars as he wailed on me with his brutal club, his prespunk mixing with my girl goo as streaks on my face.
SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK!
I was so delirious my pussy actually came again on the fourth smack, the world a creamy blur through my stained eyes.
The ultra-hung brute seized me by my hair again, drawing me up and shoving his cockhead in my dangling jaw, my will to resist him completely gone now as he pounded once more into my throat. Now he threw back his head and roared, his gorgeous muscles becoming tense, as his nasty nut glands tightened against the bottom of his shaft.
It felt like I was throwing up in reverse, the nasty huge wad of spooge battering down my throat, into my gut and then bouncing back out again, totally overwhelming my system. As I coughed some of the huge load out, his next huge shot splattered across my nose and neck, and he beat off another into my hair, totally soaking my bangs in spunk.
He found homes for the next several loads on or between my huge throbbing tits, making them jiggle and quiver with the force of his cum blasts. He painted and pasted my face again, filling my pretty blue eyes with a film of white.
He kept roaring as the last of his spunk fell upon me, smearing it all over my body with his shaft. Of course I wanted to lick it up, but I was a panting, exhausted, overfucked throat-stuffed mess.
By the time I’d even had the energy to wipe the spunk from my eyes, Paul was dressed, and standing over me again.
He took out his wallet and started, for lack of a better term, making it rain. He threw handful after handful of cash on me, coating my jockstrap-jam covered body in green dollars, 5’s 10’s 20’s and even some fifties.
“For the groceries?” I whimpered thankfully.
He just laughed.
“No. You knew what this was. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
As he left the flat, I sat there, money encrusting my cum-coated body almost like clothing. I realized he was right. For Paul at least, I, Holli, was a whore..
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