This is my second post. I'm a writer & decided to write about my true sexual encounters under the pen name of Johnny Dongle. I've had some crazy stuff happen to me, but if I post all of those at once, everyone will think I'm full of shit. So this one is much closer to the norm around these parts. Enjoy. Names are changed, but facts are 100% true, to the letter.
I use the Casual Encounters section of Craigslist almost constantly to find sexual partners and adventures. Some personal info here, if you wanna try and put a picture to your protagonist: I’m a single father of three kids. I work a fairly boring technology job, although I’m a trained massage therapist from my younger days (more about that in a bit). I’m graduate educated, in decent physical shape, not at all wealthy but I can pay all my bills on time. I’m heterosexual. In the looks department, I’d say I’m average. I’m just over six feet tall, dark blond hair, blue eyes. My penis is a little bigger than average, I guess, but not some massive porn-star kidney-scraper. Long and short, there’s nothing about me that screams “super-hot attractive stallion” but also nothing that screams “oh my God, get me away from that thing!”
Despite all of our differences, I think most men can agree that Southern women are among the hottest on the planet. The sexy accent helps, but that's not all of it -- there's just, as they say, something in the water down below the Mason-Dixon line that produces otherworldly goddesses. If you've ever walked around the American South in the summertime, it's truly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the hundreds of amazing women swirling around your field of vision.
Fast forward to the fall of 2012. As is usually the case, I had a massage ad up on Casual Encounters. My massage background pays me huge dividends on Craigslist. Rather than advertise a run-of-the-mill, “I’m a horny guy who’s ready to fuck anything that moves” ad, I instead advertise a sensual/sexual massage. It gets an extremely healthy response, both from single women and married women who want their husband to watch/join in. And, full disclosure, a lot of married women who do NOT want their husband to watch, join in, or find out.
I got a response one day from a married woman who said she was game, and that she'd like to bring her husband along. She actually asked me if I would massage both her AND her husband, which is usually a gigantic red flag that the couple has designs on making me the meat in a bisexual hoagie, which I’m not up for.
But the picture she attached was mind-blowing -- a stunning, perfect 10. Tanned, toned, perfect tits, legs, ass -- like something out of a pilates video or something. Never seen anything like it on Craig's List. I mean, meeting attractive women on Craig's List is hit or miss -- there are lots of very attractive women out there, don't get me wrong -- but this was a completely different level.
I declined the offer to massage her husband but told her he was welcome to watch as I massaged her. She said that was fine, and suggested a particular night that I couldn't do, because I had my kids. So despite not being able to make the proposed date and despite a pretty big “he's probably going to try to play with your balls” red flag, I stayed in contact and, as politely as I could without sounding pushy, hounded them to make this happen.
And they did! She kept responding and letting me know they were trying to hammer something out. She was the one doing all the talking, which was odd -- usually it’s the husband who does all the talking on CL hookups like this. But she was clearly in charge, and I liked that. When the husband is in charge and dictating everything, it’s hard to gauge whether the woman is even excited about this whole scenario, or whether she’s just going along with it so her husband will finally shut up about his threesome fantasy.
Definitely not the case here.
She sent along more, equally impressive photos of herself. A couple lingerie photos, a swimsuit photo and one delightful full-frontal nude shot. She preferred they come over to my house instead of vice versa; they had kids too, older ones, so hosting at their house was not possible. She chose a night the following week, and my schedule was clear. We were now officially in motion.
I’m not usually a nervous type, but the tension and excitement was building as the week went on. I kept telling myself not to get too excited because fate was definitely going to find some way to intervene and kill the entire deal. Nevertheless, I played the role of doting future host and asked them what they liked to drink so that I could have some on hand to make them feel at home when they arrived.
She said they liked vodka, which made me happy because it was something I couldn’t fuck up. I know my vodka. Thank God she didn’t say “red wine” or “craft beer” or something. I would’ve definitely messed that up, and I didn’t want to mess this up. I figured if they showed up and had second thoughts upon laying eyes on me, maybe a swift and consistent infusion of hard liquor would help them power through it and get their bad judgment back. I bought Ketel One. You can’t go wrong with Ketel One. I figured if Ketel One isn’t fancy enough for you, then neither is my penis and this entire shindig probably shouldn’t be happening.
A couple of days into our email exchange, she started corresponding using her real name, so of course I attacked the Internet with fervor, trying to find out more about her. I easily found her Facebook page. Her face matched her body. She had long brown hair and a great smile, and looked like the last person you’d expect to find offering herself on Craigslist. There were 100 or so pictures of her on Facebook, and I found them far sexier than any nude or explicitly sexual photos. Lots of people can look sexy with staged lighting and camera angles, in their favorite lingerie, in their favorite pose, strategically revealing their best and hiding their worst. But only a select few can look that sexy in candids from a camping trip, a family reunion, random shots at dinner, etc.
She was one of the select few.
Don’t get me wrong here -- I was infected with lust. I hadn’t been this over-the-top excited to have sex with someone since I was 15 and over-the-top excited to have sex with ANYONE who would let me. But I was also guardedly pessimistic about the whole thing. If you've ever tried hooking up on Craigslist, you know that despite the most promising of conversations, a TON of people flake out and never actually connect with you in the real world. Given that fact, plus the insane hotness of this woman, this seemed far too good to be true. I half-expected her to call the night before and tell me she needed $700 for an emergency airline ticket to visit her sick grandmother. And I'd have probably ponied up.
But sure enough, they showed -- this knockout of a woman who was even more spectacular in person, and her husband: an obese, bald, and to be honest, ugly man who was at least 10 years older.
My initial impression was befuddlement.
You just don't see this particular type of mismatch often. I figured he either had a massive cock or millions of dollars. Or, you know, they were just really in love.
It was cool outside; they both had loose sweaters and jeans on. The only flesh I could see was her face and her hands, but I could see her body under those heavy clothes. Taunting me. It was nerve-wracking.
They came in and sat down and I poured the vodka. The husband -- his name was Al -- did most of the talking at first. He was an extremely nice man, super-friendly. A down-home, folksy type. They were from Arkansas, he told me, and he had been transferred to my state a few years back to manage a popular chain restaurant -- for purposes of anonymity here, we’ll call it Tuby Ruesday’s. (there goes the millionaire theory). His absurdly hot wife, Katie, the object of my weeks-long Internet ogling and lust, did medical transcription.
She didn't say much during the get-acquainted period, which lasted about an hour. Al was definitely the talker of the two. He talked and talked and talked. They were a very tight family, he said. Other than his darts league which kept them busy a couple nights a week, they didn’t do much outside the home. Their lives revolved around their work and their kids. I also heard more details of Tuby Ruesday’s corporate expansion than I ever want to hear again.
Having been here in this couple-meets-dude threesome situation before, I could see what was happening: Al was taking his time, via lots of talking and a little bit of alcohol, and feeling me out to see if he was going to be comfortable with me fucking his wife. He mentioned that they did this thing kinda often, actually, because "she really likes the massage deal." Or, more accurately, I thought, she really likes to be fucked by other dudes.
After about an hour of chat, Al said that we'd better head on down to the bedroom if we were going to make this happen before their kids started wondering where they were. I finally let go of my pessimism -- this was actually going to happen. We we went downstairs to my bedroom (I lived in a split-level at the time; the living room and kitchen were on the main level and the bedrooms were downstairs). The “We Are The Champions” theme and the “Rocky” theme were both playing in my head at the same time.
We stepped into my tiny bedroom and Katie instantly pulled off her sweater and slid off her jeans in one swift stroke. Bang, off in a flash. Down to business.
All I could think was, WOW. She had a matching red bra and panties on, and she looked even better in person. I wanted to freeze time for about 30 seconds and just gaze upon her from every possible angle, from across the house, from two inches away from her skin and everywhere in between.
Her tits were probably a 36c, her stomach was totally flat (not ripped, just flat), her legs were perfect, her ass was perfect, and she had a little belly button piercing that was icing on the cake. I am not exaggerating when I say that, with the exception of the time I visited the Spearmint Rhino strip club in Las Vegas, I had never been this close to this hot of a woman in my life. And I was going to get to touch this one, in any way I chose, without parting with several hundred dollars in front of a dozen frat boys at a bachelor party.
She took off her bra and panties (another wow moment) and lay face down on the bed, and I got my massage oil out. And Al...well... Al got naked too, and lay down on his side, facing her. As I oiled up her back and my hands, he began whispering to her and kissing her. I have a queen-sized bed and Al was a large man -- close to 300 pounds probably -- so things were a little tight. A lot tight, actually. It was a little weird, having no room to work.
Also, Al had one of the smallest penises I'd ever seen (there went the massive cock theory, too, so I guess they were really in love). I haven't seen a lot of other penises up close in my life -- 99% of the penises I've seen in my life have been on porn videos, and obviously those skew a lot bigger than average. But wow, I mean, Al was tiny. I felt bad for the guy. If memory serves, seems like it was about the length of a standard tube of lipstick, but a bit thicker. Only just a bit, though -- it was about as thick as the base of a bottle of nail polish. Thick as a nail polish bottle, long as a lipstick.
I don't know why I'm using all these cosmetic references.
Anyway, Katie's body was so spectacular, though, that I brushed all that off. I remember actually thinking while I was massaging her that even if I did nothing but massage her and everything stayed non-sexual...I'd still feel lucky. She was that hot.
But it didn't stay non-sexual long. I worked her back and shoulders over for a long time, and whatever nerves she may have had about the situation were obviously gone. I worked my way down her lower back, over her ass and all the way down her legs and to her feet, where I spent some more time, massaging each of her arches, up and down, over and over again. I slowly crept up to her calves, and then her hamstrings, pushing up into her glutes, up and down her legs over and over again.
I wanted to tease her more, but I knew time was of the essence. I moved to her inner thighs, sliding my hands very slowly up until my fingers brushed against her pussy lips ever so slightly...and then back down again. I did this over and over again on both legs, each time grazing her pussy lips a little harder, and letting my knuckles linger there a little longer. I worked my way back up a final time and put my thumb on her clit and slid it up and down her inner lips, with my middle fingertip resting on her asshole. I kept stroking her up and down with my thumb, with very light pressure, just enough to tease. When my thumb reached her pussy, I’d just barely sink the tiniest portion of my thumb inside her, but never more than that.
Every time I’d stop and let her anticipate me sinking that entire thumb inside her...but I’d never do it. I just continued stroking from her clit to the bottom of her pussy. She was very wet, and she wanted it inside her. With each stroke, she’d push her ass back and try to do it herself, but I pulled my thumb back each time. She was not in charge; I was. She started to whimper, and I looked up and saw that she had a death grip on my headboard. She was so wet that my thumb was starting to pucker, so I figured she’d had enough.
I sunk my index and middle fingers into her, pointing downward, until I felt her spongy G-spot against her front wall. She screamed as if I’d just dumped a bucket of ice in her lap; it flipped a switch inside her, and she instantly jumped to her hands and knees and began grinding back against my fingers. I moved my fingers together inside her in a circle, slowly rotating the pressure all the way around her vaginal walls, over and over again, slowly, stopping to massage her G-spot for a couple of seconds each time.
She was starting to lose it, and tried bucking back and forth against my hand to speed things along. But I took my left hand and thundered the hardest smack I could muster against her left ass cheek, and she cried out before stopping altogether. She got the message; at this moment, her entire body belonged to me and I would control it precisely. Just to reinforce this, I slid my left hand up her back and took all of her hair and wrapped it in a fist right behind her head, and pulled her head back so tightly she was looking almost straight up in the air.
Without further warning, I leaned above her and began hammering away at her G-spot with my two fingers, back and forth, as fast as my arm could move and with all the pressure that my chest, shoulder and arms could produce. It was more intense than she realized it would be, and she began yelling. She sounded panicked and almost like I was hurting her, but I knew she wasn’t scared and I knew she probably felt better than she’d ever felt in her life. She was soaking wet and having her G-spot worked perfectly, and the sensation was so intense and new that her reaction was simply to yell, like when you’re plummeting down a roller coaster or the seconds before a car wreck.
She didn’t last 15 seconds before she buckled, and squirted lightly all over my bedding. Her legs and ass were convulsing as she white-knuckled the headboard, and I rubbed her wetness all over the inside of her thighs and her ass while she recovered. It was an incredible moment, spoiled almost completely by Al’s bellowing commentary of, “Dayum, baby...that feel good, baby?” His tiny pecker was at full post, nearly the size of a roll of nickels.
She got her breath back and turned over on her back, and all of a sudden she says, "Somebody better put their cock in my mouth right now." Like, verbatim, that's what she said. I glanced over at Al with a look that said, "Me! Me! Pick Me!" and he gave me the nod.
I stepped up to the head of the bed, and she wrapped her right hand around my ass and pulled my hard cock into her mouth and started sucking me. She could only take about two-thirds of my cock, but she kept pushing and trying to take more. I’d hit the back of her throat and she’d stop for a half-second and push her face forward, trying to get more. She couldn’t, but the I-think-I-can effort and enthusiasm in her eyes made my cock swell even bigger and harder. I have plenty of sexual experience, but when I looked down at her mouth bobbing on me and her glorious body lying on my bed, I clearly remember thinking that I was breaking new ground in awesomeness here.
After she sucked me for a few minutes, she took my cock out of her mouth and started kissing Al, and I slid my face down between her legs and opened them up. I looked over at Al and said, "Is it ok to eat her pussy?" Before he could even nod, she moaned and yelled "YES!" and so I started licking and sucking her aggressively, thrusting my entire tongue inside her, French-kissing her pussy. Usually I would take much more time with teasing and warm up, but no further warm-up was necessary, and I was already glancing at her cell phone on my nightstand waiting for her kids to call and prematurely end the party.
She was squeezing my head with her legs and thrusting her pussy up into my fact. She had lost control of herself, and for a moment she’d totally forgotten about Al. I had not, though. I mistakenly glanced to the right and saw Al pulling his small penis, which was within 18 inches of my head, flirting with my personal airspace.
I went back to sucking Katie and pretended he wasn’t there.
I was ready to fuck her and she was ready for me, so I straightened her body out on the left side of the bed and climbed up. I was on my knees and holding a leg in each hand, with my hands in the creases of her knees, and I stayed upright as I was fucking her. Not my usual style at all, but I was being selfish because I wanted to see every inch of her while we were fucking. The sex itself was not top-shelf -- Al was taking up 2/3 of the damn bed and so neither Katie nor I had much room to move and really get into things.
Still, it was awesome. I reached down and grabbed her perfect tits and held on tight as I fucked her slowly, in and out, as deep as I could go and then completely outside of her with every stroke. Al leaned in to make out with her.
Then, as expected, the fun came to an abrupt end when their kids started blowing up their cell phone. She didn’t answer, but after 2-3 consecutive calls it was clear that we needed to wrap this up, so I started fucking her harder and faster. I asked her if she wanted to cum inside or outside, and she said outside. I went all-out and began drilling her as hard as I possibly could, and her head was banging against the headboard each time. It didn’t take long, though, and I shot what I considered to be a regular-sized load all over her stomach and chest and neck. Apparently I've been selling myself short in the load department; when I finished, she and Al both looked at each other in big-eyed disbelief. I was confused. "WOW!” she said. “Someone's been saving up his cum for a long time!"
This was not the case at all, actually; I'd masturbated twice earlier in the day just to increase my staying power for the evening, but whatever. I’ll take a compliment where I can get one.
I thought we’d be throwing on our clothes quicklike, but THEN...as soon as I step away from the bed, Al declares, "Well, this is going to seem like nothing after as long as he lasted with you" (also confusing to me, because there's no way I fucked her for longer than 15 minutes).
And then Al slides on top of her and pumps for, I swear to God, maybe 15 seconds and blows his nut in her. Then they hopped up and put their clothes back on and answered the fourth phone call from their kids and told them they’d just gotten done shopping and would be home in a few minutes.
At that moment, it all started making more sense -- at least to the cynical bastard in me. Al wasn't rich or good-looking and he had a tiny penis, yet his wife was absurdly, freakishly attractive. So perhaps this was the way they evened things out a bit -- hot girls make the rules (universal law), and if Katie wanted bigger, thicker, longer-lasting dicks that shot tons of cum, then she got them, pretty much anytime she wanted. And Al was OK with that.
That's what I surmise, anyway.
They hurried their way out the door. I shook Al's hand and told them to come back anytime, and I went to shake Katie's hand but she laughed and said, "no...come here and hug me" and gave me a hug. They both said they'd love to do it again, but I didn’t put much stock in that. What else would you say when you're there face to face with someone right afterward?
I texted and emailed over the next couple days, and Katie said she definitely wanted a repeat engagement, and soon. Despite that, I never heard from them again. Not a peep. I emailed a couple times, non-obtrusively, but never got a response.
That's cool, once was enough -- and I certainly don't aim to be that Craigslist whack-job you regret ever contacting because he doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.
Anyway...God bless Southern women, and the obese cuckolds who love them.
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