4 comments/ 30098 views/ 19 favorites Pussy Rules By: soflabbwlvr Author's note: This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious and over the age of eighteen. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Pussy Rules "Mr. McKinnon, have you even read my book? Don't answer, I already know you haven't. I don't know whether I am more offended by the fact that a publisher actually saw fit to publish your book; that reputable bookstores are selling it; or that I have subjected myself to being in your presence. Your book is offensive to women in general and women of size in particular. Your book is an affront to anyone with a sense of decency, anyone with an intelligence level within shouting distance of normal, and anyone who can read. So what do you think? Do we have an agreement?" "We're making progress. Before this show is over, you'll come over to my way of thinking." "I hardly think so, Mr. McKinnon." "Shari, why don't you explain to Mr. McKinnon where he is misguided." "Opal, I would be happy to explain the errors in Mr. McKinnon's model if I thought for a second that he was serious and his book was merely misguided. He's not. He's a huckster, and anyone who has purchased his book is a victim of his scam. I'm considering referring this matter to the Attorney General for a fraud investigation, but I would be happy to recommend a class-action attorney, instead." "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not scamming anyone. My book is a bestseller." "Your book is nothing more than a pick-up guide for desperate men. Sprinkling it with pop psychology jargon and copying the structure of a twelve-step addiction program does not elevate it above what it is: Crass merchandising directed toward the lowest common denominator, a subset of subhuman men so lacking in interpersonal skills that they need coaching to overcome their fear and stupidity in order to prey upon emotionally damaged women with body-image issues. You disgust me, Mr. McKinnon. Your book disgusts me. I don't believe in censorship, but in this case I would make an exception. Your book should be banned." "Those are strong words, Shari. Do you care to respond, Mr. McKinnon?" "Calling names and pointing fingers doesn't help anyone, Opal. Clearly, Ms. Wainright was emotionally and psychologically abused by her former husband–" "What are you talking about?" Shari stares at Paul. "–who would have benefitted greatly from my book," Paul continues. "I only wish I had written it before this year. Who knows how many lives could have been improved and marriages saved if only I had spoken out sooner? Ms. Wainright obviously has a problem with my methods, but our goals are identical. We are kindred spirits." "I don't think so, Opal. Unlike Mr. McKinnon, I have a soul. I'm not even sure that we're the same species." "Sure we are. We have more things in common than you realize." "Really? Name just one thing." "We both appreciate the unique beauty of these porky princesses–" Shari jumps out of her chair and lunges toward Paul. "Watch your mouth, or I'll slap the stupid right off your face!" "Bring it, bitch!" "Composure, people!" Opal glares. "We're doing a live television show here." "I'm sorry, Opal. This ... man ... is so ... infuriating." "It's alright, Shari. It's OK. Why don't you explain to Mr. McKinnon why his comparison is inappropriate? "Yes, please enlighten me." "I would be happy to, Opal. It's really quite simple. You profess your so-called love and admiration for women of size solely because of their physical dimensions. My organization's goal is to promote acceptance of all women despite their sizes. The difference is profound." "I see what you mean. I like to look at fat chicks. You want to make them invisible." "No, not all. Your problem, Mr. McKinnon, is that when you look at a woman you see a size. I want people to look at a woman of any size and just see a woman." The audience stands and applauds. "And on that note, we'll be right back." "Cut to commercial," a voice bellows from the corner of the stage. Paul grasps the microphone pinned to his jacket, rips it from the collar, and turns on Shari. "What the fuck was that all about?" he screams into her face. "Not getting enough dick since your husband dumped you?" "Back off..." Shari warns. "Calm down!" Opal pleads. "I'm not calming down. You brought this hybrid cow-bitch on the show for the sole reason of provoking me. Well, it worked. I'm angry. I'm irate. Are you happy now?" "Mr. McKinnon. Please return to your seat." "You see, Opal? You see? This charlatan is nothing more than a beast. He's an animal. I told you this was pointless." "The two of you planned this ... this ... ambush?" "You were not ambushed, Mr. McKinnon. Now please, return to your seat and calm yourself down. We're going back live in one minute." "I will not calm down. I'm not sitting down. I'm not participating another second unless and until the two of you apologize to me and you get rid of this manatee. This was supposed to be my show to promote my book." "Mr. McKinnon, you need to understand one thing, and you need to understand it very clearly. This is my show. It's not yours–it's mine. I own it. I produce it. I'll decide who my guests are going to be, and how long they get to stay. No one ever told you that you would be the only guest. Do you follow?" "Fuck you. Fuck both of you. God damned fat whores." Paul turns and stomps off the stage. Opal starts to call him back, but she sees the stage manager signaling. Five...four...three...two...one. "Welcome back, ladies and gentleman. Well, as you can see, my first guest, author Paul McKinnon, had to leave. He was notified of a family emergency during the break–I hope everything turns out alright. No problem though, Ms. Wainright is still here to elaborate on the points she was making before the commercial. Shari, please continue." "Thank you Opal. As I was saying, women don't need ..." Pussy Rules Shari returns her ass to Paul's face. She rocks and sways, pressing more and more of her weight against his skull and then letting up when Paul starts to panic. "O ... K," he says between gulps of air. "You're ... in control." "Good," Shari purrs. "Now that we have the parameters of our relationship established, let's see what–if anything–you can do for me." Shari stands up, reaches for the waistband of her thong, and pulls it to the floor. She picks it up and waves it under Paul's nose. "Don't you just love that scent? Isn't it incredible how a man like you can literally be compelled to do absolutely anything when you are in the presence of that aroma? It shuts off the thinking parts of your brain. It makes your heart race, your skin tingle, and your blood pressure rise. It makes you susceptible to suggestion and easily persuadable. It owns you." "I–" Shari stuffs the panties into Paul's mouth before he can finish his sentence. "Don't speak. I already know the answer. Don't say anything." Shari stands up and retrieves her purse. "I'll be right with you. I have to make a phone call." She reaches into the bag and pulls out her cell phone. She presses the touch screen and then places it against her ear. "Opal, honey? ... Yes, this is Shari. ... I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel our dinner tonight ... A, uh, situation arose, and I have to deal with it ... No, nothing serious, but long overdue ... Not really my responsibility, but there's no one else here capable of handling it ... I know, I know ... That won't be necessary ... Alright ... Next time ... Take care ... Love you too." Shari throws the phone back into her purse and walks over to Paul. She squats over his face. Her smooth, glistening pussy hovers inches from him. The aroma of her moist slit washes over Paul's nose, tickling his nostrils and causing his pulse to accelerate. His cock twitches and throbs in the still air. Shari pulls the panties out of Paul's mouth and tosses them onto the sofa. Her open pussy sways above his quivering lips. "I'm very sorry about that interruption. I didn't want Opal to call building security and report me missing." "That–" "Shhh–don't talk. Don't say anything. Not a word. Just listen." Shari shifts her weight from one ankle to the other before settling into a four point squat. She lowers her head and glances between her thick thighs. She meets Paul's gaze and speaks in a low tone. "You're going to lick my pussy, and you're going to do it better than you have ever licked any pussy in your life. You're going to lick me like your life depended upon it. You're going to lick from my asshole to my clit, and everywhere in between. You're going to lick me until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?" "Yes." "No words. Just nod your head." Paul nods in the affirmative. "Are we clear?" Paul nods again. "What are you going to do?" "Lick–" Shari's hand comes out of nowhere and slaps Paul in the face. "No talking," she says with an edge to her voice. Paul looks up at Shari as a tear leaks from the corner of his eye and rolls toward his ear. He moves his jaw as if he wants to speak, but manages to remain silent. "I don't want you to talk about licking me," Shari coos while wiping the tear from Paul's face. "Just do it." There is steel in her voice that was not present a few moments ago. Paul extends his tongue, but Shari's crotch remains a few inches beyond his reach. He cranes his neck until he feels that every muscle is on fire, yet his tongue still isn't long enough to taste Shari's tender flesh. He stretches and strains until he is out of strength. His head crashes to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. "You seem to be having some difficulty," Shari teases. Paul nods. "Would you like some help?" Paul nods again. Shari smiles at him and then drops her entire weight onto Paul's face. "All you had to do was ask," she says in a lilting voice. Shari slides her crotch all over Paul's upturned, immobile face. She grinds her clit against his chin–the five o'clock shadow provides additional friction against her rigid little nub. Shari then rocks backward and slides around until she feels Paul's nose pushing against her asshole. She presses her tight little puckered rose against his flattened snout. She wiggles her ass from side to side as though she were trying to work the cartilage into her rectum. Shari feels Paul panicking as his oxygen supply starts to run out; she lifts her butt for a few seconds, allowing him to take several deep breaths before she lowers her ass to his face once again. Shari reaches beneath her butt, grabs a meaty white cheek in each hand, and spreads her ass wide open. Paul's face is nearly swallowed whole by the long deep crevasse separating the twin fleshy globes of her full, round ass. "Lick my pussy, Mr. McKinnon. Lick my ass. Show me how you satisfy a fat girl. Show me your skills, little man." Paul doesn't hear anything. Shari's crotch is smothering his face, and her thick thighs are pressed against his ears. He is trapped in a cocoon of warm, fragrant flesh. He senses that Shari may be talking to him, but he is too focused on regulating his breathing to make any effort toward deciphering words he's not even sure are being voiced. He could be hallucinating, for all he knows. Shari lifts her ass, allowing Paul an opportunity to gulp more air. "Oh, my," she says in mock wonder. "What have we here? Your cock is so hard, Mr. McKinnon. This is turning you on, isn't it? You can't hide your excitement from me, you know. It's clearly visible." Paul knows his cock is painfully erect. He's not sure how or why it's hard, but the fact of it is undeniable. Loss of control is not a turn-on. Humiliation is not a turn-on. Being used like a plastic sex toy is not a turn-on. Yet, somehow, he is definitely turned on. "It's not very long, is it?" Shari teases. "I mean, I've seen much longer cocks in videos. It is thick, however; I'll give you that. It's kind of stumpy, isn't it? How about if I call you 'Stumpy'? Would you like that, Mr. McKinnon? Would you like me to call you 'Stumpy'? " She pauses for second. "No response? Then 'Stumpy' it is! "One more thing. When you're permitted to speak, Stumpy, you will address me as 'Goddess.' Understand? Just nod your head if you understand." Paul eyes wilt and a lump forms in this throat. He starts to speak but catches himself before the words escape his lips. He closes his eyes and nods. "Awesome," Shari says. "Now get back to work, Stumpy." Shari's ass once again descends onto Paul's face. She leans forward a little so that her entire weight is not crushing Paul's skull. She wiggles her bottom and slides back and forth until her clit is directly over Paul's mouth. "Lick it, Stumpy." Paul hears a muffled voice penetrating the slight space between his ears and Shari's thighs, but it is too faint for him to decipher the words that were spoken. Nonetheless, his mind recalls the last command he was given. He extends his tongue and begins licking Shari's fleshy nub with a side-to-side motion. "That's it, Stumpy. Just like that. Keep doing that." Paul still doesn't hear Shari, but the insistence of her rocking motion tells him that he must be doing something right. He continues licking until thoughts of suffocation enter his mind. He rolls his hips and pulls against the ropes in an attempt to get Shari's attention. Lost in her revelry, Shari is oblivious to Paul's discomfort. Her first awareness that something may be amiss occurs when she notices the withdrawal of Paul's tongue from her clit. "Lick me, damn it." Paul doesn't respond. Shari opens her eyes and looks down. She sees that Paul is twisting and flexing within his limited range of motion. It takes another second for the fact of Paul's distress to penetrate the fog of her impending joy. She shifts her weight, allowing Paul to exhale before filling his empty lungs with air. "I'm sorry, Stumpy," she says. "I was enjoying your tongue so much that I forgot to allow you to breathe. I'll try to be more mindful of your need for air. After all, you're of no use to me unconscious." Paul takes several deep breaths. His head clears a little as the blood carries fresh oxygen to his brain. He is tempted to thank Shari, but before he can open his mouth she once again lowers her ass to his face, voiding the possibility of speech. Shari continues riding Paul's face for another forty minutes. The staccato rhythm of riding for a minute or two followed by a refreshing pause prevents Paul from suffocating, but prolongs her ascension to bliss. When the first orgasm hits Shari nearly forgets to give him a chance to breathe. Mindful of his well-being, she cuts her second orgasm short. When the third one hits she nearly blacks out herself. She regains her senses just in time–Paul's face is turning purple, and drool is running out both sides of his mouth. Paul gasps, and then drinks in several huge gulps of air. "I thought," he sputters, "you were going to kill me." "Oh, Stumpy," she says. "Don't worry. I would never hurt you–not permanently, at least. This is supposed to be a teaching moment. What would you learn if you were dead?" "But–" "Enough, Stumpy. I never gave you permission to speak. I'll attribute that disobedience to lack of oxygen reaching your feeble cave man brain. It had better not happen again, however." Paul's mouth opens, but before any words come out he snaps it closed. "Good boy, Stumpy. You're learning. "Now that I'm sufficiently warmed up–and that was all due to your efforts, thank you very much–it's time to move to the next phase. But before we do so, let's review what you have learned so far. Plus-sized women love being turned on through oral sex. In that respect, we're no different from skinny bitches. But what works on me might not work on the next woman. We're all unique. You cannot generalize. You're going to have to develop a broader set of skills. Do you understand?" Paul nods. "Good. Let's proceed." Shari steps over Paul, turns her back to his head, and lowers her butt to his body. She sits on his chest, her folded legs squeezing either side of his torso. "What do we have here, Stumpy? Your cock has been sticking straight up in the air for over an hour, now. It looks so hard! Is it painful?" Paul's eyes roll to the back of his head, but with her back turned to his face, Shari doesn't see him. "It looks tempting. I want to touch it, Stumpy, but I'm afraid the slightest contact will cause it go off. We wouldn't want that now, would we? I mean, that might be an impressive sight, watching you go off like a geyser with just a little flick of my finger–and I have to admit, I am a little curious to see how high you can shoot your goo– but in the end that wouldn't really give me any satisfaction. You know what I mean? "Would that be good for you? Would that give you relief? Or would it just frustrate you?" Shari turns and looks Paul in the eye. He grits his teeth together and squints. Holding his tongue is physically painful, but no more so than the psychological pain of her sexual torture. The pleading look in his eyes tells her what his mouth cannot. Shari leans forward so that her face is inches from Paul's throbbing, unrequited erection. She reaches for the thick shaft with one hand. She stops when she is mere inches away and extends a finger. She pokes the spongy head, and then withdraws the finger. "It's so hard. You definitely don't have ED." She sticks out her tongue and licks her fingertip. She then places the tip of her wet finger against the underside of the glans and traces a slow circle around the circumference of the head. Paul's cock twitches in the air as a groan escapes his lips. "Too much?" she asks. "I don't want this thing to go off in my face. That would displease me, you know." Paul clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. Shari wets her fingertip again and then traces another circle in the opposite direction. "Ehmmmm," Paul groans. His arms and legs and even his abs are rigid. "You're so close, aren't you? One more touch, and then POP–there it goes. You wouldn't want that, would you? I know that's not what I want. But if I were in your position? I don't know. I've never been anyone's bitch before. Is that what you want? Do you want me to make it pop?" "Ughnnnnnnn." "I'm going to take that as a 'no.' At least we're on the same page, Stumpy." Shari leans forward and lowers her hand to Paul's crotch. She avoids any contact with his cock. "I'm sorry I have to do this," she says. "But in the end, it really is better for both of us. It's the right thing to do." Shari coils her index finger against her thumb. She pauses for a second and then flicks the finger outward with all of her strength. It makes a snapping sound as it strikes Paul's scrotum. "Umpf," he grunts. A wave of nausea rises in his crotch and flows toward his stomach. The wave washes over his chest and crashes in the back of his throat. For a second he fears that he might vomit, but the feeling passes without incident. When the wave dissipates, he looks down and sees that his erection is gone. Shari looks at Paul's crotch and grins. "You can thank me later, Stumpy." A pained look flashes across Paul's face. He takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, and then exhales through pursed lips. Shari goes to her purse and retrieves a tube of perfumed body cream. She steps over Paul, lowers her ass to his chest, and opens the tube of cream. She squeezes a large dollop of lotion onto her hand and tosses the tube on the sofa. "Let's see if we can bring this little thing back to life." She leans forward and grasps Paul's flaccid cock in her creamy hand. The floral-scented lotion is cold against his skin, but begins to warm as her hands slide up and down his stiffening shaft. It only takes thirty seconds or so for his slick cock to return to the fully erect condition of a few moments earlier. Shari stands up and takes a step forward so that her crotch is centered directly over Paul's groin. With her back to Paul, she bends over and wipes the remaining lotion from her hands onto Paul's thighs. She lowers her crotch until the hot, moist opening is hovering less than an inch from the tip of Paul's throbbing cock. "In a moment you're going to find out why I used the lotion on you," she whispers. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I'm unusually tight. That's always been both a blessing and a curse for me. Even as wet as I am, it's going to be a chore getting that thick stump of yours inside me." Shari reaches between her thighs, grasps Paul's shaft, and lowers her body. She places the tip of his cock between her pink lips, takes a deep breath, and pushes her ass downward. Her pussy resists for a moment, but then stretches enough to accept Paul's conical invader. She continues pushing downward as the fat shaft occupies more and more of her juicy hole. Shari gasps, then pushes until her weight is resting on Paul's groin. "Wow. That's really a tight fit. Do you see what I'm talking about? Shh-h-hh. Don't speak–just nod. I've never felt so full. Your stump lacks length, but it's the widest thing I've ever had inside me. For a second there I thought you were going to rip me in two." A groan escapes Paul's throat. I've never experienced anything better in my entire life. "I'm going to ride you, Stumpy, and I'm afraid you're going to cum very quickly. After what I've already put you through, my pussy is going to be too much for you to resist. To tell you the truth, I'll be surprised if you last a minute. That can't be helped. It's nothing to be ashamed of, by the way. In five years of marriage my ex-husband never lasted more than four minutes inside me. But don't worry–I have a plan." Raising her ass a few millimeters per second, Shari slides her pussy up the length of Paul's shaft. She stops when she is almost clear of the tip, pauses, and then reverses her motion. She descends at an even slower rate until her crotch is once again resting on Paul's groin. "Ughnnnnnn." Paul is unable to stifle his moan. At first he doesn't even realize the sound is coming from his throat. When he does, he grinds his teeth as a reminder to himself to remain silent. The feeling is overwhelming–it is as though every drop of blood in his body is being pumped to his cock and siphoned out by a tight, wet, silky-smooth clamp of inhuman origin. Nothing in his life has prepared him for this moment. He would not be surprised to find that he had been abducted by aliens and subjected to experiments on his genitals. No earthly contact had ever been even a tenth as pleasurable. Shari rises from his crotch once again and the feelings coursing through Paul's body are amplified a thousand times. His nerves are on fire, and his brain is melting. She pauses at the apex of her motion and squeezes. Paul feels his balls tighten, but he forgets what that even means. He is being sucked into a black hole of moist flesh that is crushing his will as it consumes his identity. He exists only to experience that feeling. He will do whatever is necessary to experience that sensation. He belongs to the Goddess. The pleasure of her pussy is the extent of his universe. Millimeter by millimeter, Shari slides down Paul's greasy pole. Her nipples are rigid spikes at the end of her heavy, pale breasts. The air conditioner shut off some time ago, and a sheen of sweat is causing her curvy body to glisten beneath the bright lights in the Green Room. She rises, pauses, and then descends. She realizes that her knees can't take much more of the stress, but she also knows Paul's cock is even more stressed and much closer to blowing out. Using Paul's thighs for leverage, Shari pushes her ass upward. She raises and lowers herself, sliding up and down Paul's shaft. With every glorious second she is getting closer to orgasm, but she knows it won't arrive in time. Paul's eruption is imminent. Paul feels every nerve in his body tingle. One or two more penetrations are all he has left, and then he is going to explode. He doesn't want to come yet, but the matter is out of his hands. Shari's pussy is in control, and he is just a passenger on this brief, exhilarating ride. "I'm–unghhhh!" He forgets to hold his tongue. He feels his balls contract as the fire concentrates in his groin. His mind bursts as the first shot of cum rockets up his shaft and erupts inside Shari's moist, velvety vice. He sees black for a second, and it feels as though his soul is escaping his body. He opens his eyes and sees the big woman straddling his supine torso. Her breasts are jiggling as she raises and lowers herself on his shaft. His vision goes black again, and when it returns he is once again looking upward at the ceiling. "Cum for me Stumpy, cum for me," Shari coos. "Fill me with your cream." Paul feels jet after jet of hot cum shooting from his cock. He doesn't know how many spurts erupt before his balls stop pumping their contents. He feels hot and sweaty, and he's gasping for breath again. "Is that better, Stumpy?" Paul starts to answer but catches himself before any sounds escape his lips. He clenches his teeth and nods. "You can answer me, Stumpy. Use your words. How do you feel?" "Incredible. Amazing. That was ... I can't describe it." "But you're still hard, right?" "Yes. Shari–" "Goddess. You are only to address me as Goddess, remember?" "Yes ... Goddess." "That's better." "As I was saying–Goddess–that all happened so fast, my hard on didn't even go down." "That's what I was counting on, Stumpy. Now pay attention, this next part is very important. You want to please me, correct?" Pussy Rules "Yes, Sh-Goddess." "Very good. Look in my eyes, Stumpy." Paul strains his neck to meet her hazel eyes as Shari turns to face him. "This is what we've been building to, Stumpy. This is where everything has been heading. I'm going to release your bindings. When I do, you're going to crawl between my legs, stick your cock in my tight, wet pussy, and you're going to fuck me until I'm satisfied. Do you understand?" "Yes, Goddess." "Good. OK, here we go." Shari pushes herself off Paul's body. A river of cum slides out of her pussy and runs down her leg. "That was quite a load, Stumpy. When was the last time you came?" "About two weeks ago." Shari kneels next to Paul's feet as she loosens the belt securing Paul's legs to the heavy cabinet. "Was it with a woman or by yourself." "A woman," Paul lied. "She was a fan I met after a book signing in Chicago." After finishing with the bindings on Paul's feet, Shari kneels next to his head and begins working on the knotted necktie securing his hands to the furniture. "I see. And you haven't felt the urge to take matters into your own hands since then?" "I've been too busy. This book tour is taking up all of my time." "Then you should really appreciate what's going to happen next. Stand up and stretch for a second." Paul obeys. Shari leans back on her elbows. She spreads her legs and points toward her frothing pussy. "Fuck me, Stumpy. Fuck me like mine is the last pussy on earth." Paul kneels between her open thighs. The aroma of sex wafting from Shari's pussy overpowers his senses. Paul feels his erect cock twitch every time he inhales. "This has got to be a trick." "No trick, Stumpy. Come and fuck me. You've earned it." "You're not going to do a Lucy Van Pelt on me and pull the ball away are you?" "If I start calling you 'Charlie Brown,' then you can start worrying. I promise you that isn't going to happen. Right now, Stumpy, I want you to put that fat cock in my warm, wet, and very tight pussy. I want you to fuck me until cum is running out my eyeballs. Come and fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me deep. Fuck me now. You'll never get this chance again. That's also a promise." "You haven't been videotaping this, have you?" "To what end? Blackmail? It would be far more damaging to me than you, I'm sure." "Are you going to go to the police and claim I raped you?" "Stop being a pussy. I'm starting to lose my patience with you, and if that happens I'll go elsewhere for satisfaction. But make no mistake–I'm hot, I'm horny, and I'm going to get fucked tonight. It's going to be the best sex some man has ever had. It can be you or it can be someone else, but somebody is going to cum like he's never cum before. The choice is yours, Stumpy, but you have to make the choice and you have to make it right now." Shari draws her knees back a little and opens her parted thighs another inch. Her tight, plump pussy is wet, sloppy and open. The pink lips are swollen and flushed. Her tiny clit is peeking from its hood. Paul stares into Shari's eyes for a long moment. His gaze travels down her body, past her floppy breasts and her soft belly slick with sweat, and settles on her dripping pussy. He inhales the aroma of her hot, moist flesh, her perfume, and her perspiration. His mouth waters and his cock twitches. He hesitates for a split second; his need overcomes his thought process and he leans forward. He places the tip of his cock at her vagina and pushes. His cock parts her lips and pushes her tender flesh aside. He buries himself in her tight channel in one violent stroke. "Ungh! That's it, Stumpy. Fuck me. Fuck me, Stumpy baby, fuck me." Paul pulls back and then thrusts forward again. Her pussy is just as tight and just as hot as a few moments ago, but this time she is even wetter than before. "Fuck me, Stumpy, fuck me hard." Shari digs her nails into Paul's back and pulls him into her. "Deep, Stumpy, I want it deep. Fuck me, Stumpy, fuck me." Paul's mind is operating on an animal level. He is unable to process the sounds, smells or feelings rippling throughout his body. A voice tells him to fuck, and every cell in his body wants to comply. He pumps in and out as fast as he can. "Harder, Stumpy, harder. Fuck me, Stumpy. Fuck me hard." Shari wraps her thighs around Paul's back and pulls him downward "Deeper, deeper." Paul is powerless to resist her. No part of his body wants to disobey, but even if it did, his mind would be unable to interpret the concept. He thrusts in and out as hard and as fast as he can. The grip of Shari's tight velvet clamp is unlike anything he has ever felt before. He wants the feeling to last forever. "Deeper, Stumpy, deeper. Fuck me harder. I'm getting close." Paul increases his pace. 'Harder' he can manage, but there's nothing he can do about 'deeper.' He pumps as fast as he can, slamming into Shari's soft body with as much force as possible driving every stroke. A smaller woman would have broken beneath the weight of his thrusts, but Shari absorbs the impact and demands more. "Harder. I'm almost there. Fuck me harder or I'll find someone who will." Paul pounds his groin against the junction of Shari's thighs. He has never felt better in his life. Every thrust is pure pleasure–the joy of animal lust unleashed. His cock is a mass of nerves carrying an electric current to his brain. Every stroke is better than the one before it. Every movement is one step closer to the biggest and most powerful eruption of his life. "Is that the best you can do? Fuck me! Harder! Ungh. Almost. Harder. Now." Paul tries to comply, but he knows he is giving her everything he's got. He won't even be able to speed up just before he cums–he's already operating at peak performance. At that point he realizes he has a finite number of strokes left until he erupts, and when that happens the best thing he has ever experienced will come to an end. The faster he fucks, the sooner it's over. A new thought germinates. I never want this to end. How can I make it last longer? Paul reaches a decision. He takes his foot off the accelerator and slows his thrusts. "What are you doing? I'm almost there. Fuck me, God damn it! Fuck me!" Paul pulls back so that just the tip of his cock is inside Shari. He holds this position for an agonizing second, then pushes forward at a slower, more deliberate pace. "Damn you, Stumpy, fuck me! Now! I'm so close." Paul buries his cock inside her, relishing the feel of her tight wet flesh clutching his wide, stiff shaft. He waits four tortured seconds, then pulls all the way out. Smack! Shari delivers a vicious slap to Paul's cheek. "Fuck me, Stumpy. I'm not messing around." Paul rocks backward, grabs Shari's upraised ankles, and leers down at her. "What are you going to do?" he taunts. Smack! Shari swings her arm and slaps his other cheek. "Just shut up and fuck me. I'm almost there." "Or what? Do you think you can beat me up?" "Excuse me?" "You heard me. Fuck you or what? What are you going to do?" "You're pissing me off, Stumpy. Now c'mon, let's get back to where we were." "You still haven't answered my question. The fact is, you're not in control of this situation any more. Your pussy has power, but my dick dominates." "That's a good one. Save it for the next time you're telling fish stories with your buddies." "It's true, and you know it. You need me more than I need you." "Spare me your philosophical musings. Get in here and fuck me." "Ask me nicely." "What?" "Don't make me repeat myself. Ask me nicely, or I get dressed and walk out." "Stumpy, get over yourself. We've already established the nature of this relationship." "It seems that the situation has changed." Shari senses for the first time that Paul just might have found sufficient reserves of willpower to resist her charms. "Alright. You win. Come over here and fuck me." "Is that the best you can do? I said 'ask me nicely.'" Shari glares at Paul. She takes a deep breath and then lets it out. "Paul, would you please be so kind as to come over here and fuck my wet, dripping pussy with your big, beautiful, cock?" "That's better. Just one more thing." "What now?" "Turn over. I want to fuck you from behind." Angered by his insolence and unsure if she can trust him, Shari glares at Paul. Realizing that her need outstrips her anger, she rolls onto her stomach. "Ass up. I'm going to fuck you like the bitch you are." Shari lifts her crotch from the floor. She rocks backward, raises her chest off the carpet, and wiggles her ass at Paul. "Is this what you want, baby?" Shari wiggles her ass again, and then lowers her face to the carpet. She reaches behind and grabs a cheek in each hand, spreading them apart. "C'mon, baby. Come and get it. Come and fuck me, big boy. Come and give me what I need. Put it in me. Put it deep up inside me, honey." Paul stares at the broad expanse of Shari's creamy, white ass. His eyes find the moist pink petals in the center, opened and beckoning his return. He feels the blood rush to his cock as his erection reasserts itself. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her strong aroma. His head starts to spin as he once again places the head against her juicy pussy. "That's it, baby. That's it. It's all yours. Take it. Take that sweet, sweet, pussy. I've been saving it for you." Paul thrusts forward as a wave of heat engulfs his groin. He places his hands on Shari's fleshy hips and pushes. "Take it, baby. Take it. Punish that pussy. It's been so bad. Punish it. C'mon, baby. Take it. Make it hurt." Paul thrusts in and out, his speed increasing with each thrust. His mind is numb as the pleasure overtakes his thoughts. Every thrust feels better than the last. Every push makes him feel stronger, more alive, more manly. He pushes and pounds as he rises higher and higher on a column of ecstacy. Too late, he realizes, he has passed the point of no return. He couldn't stop thrusting even if a gun were pressed against his head. "Fuck me, baby, fuck me. I'm almost there. Harder. Harder. Fuck my pussy. Fuck my pussy, baby. Harder." Paul is pumping harder and harder–harder than ever before. Deeper, too, it seems. It feels better than anything he can remember. All he wants to do is thrust. His mind is a fog of soft flesh and pungent aroma. "Almost ... almost ... just ... ungh! Ah! Just! Ahhhhhhh!" Paul senses that Shari must be coming. It means nothing to him. He thrusts harder and harder, smacking his groin into her soft, wide butt cheeks. Her swaying breasts and jiggling flesh are unnecessary distractions. He's almost there– just a little more. He thrusts again and again. He feels a surge from within his balls. It rises up his shaft just as fireworks explode in his brain. He sees white and then his vision goes black. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Here! It! Cums! You! Bitch!" Spurt after spurt erupts from his balls. He keeps pumping as the mass of nerves in his shaft become dulled and then ultra-sensitive. When he can take no more stimulation he slows his thrusts then stops. Paul collapses on Shari's back. He is panting as though he had just run a marathon. Beneath him, Shari is also taking deep breaths. As she slides on the floor she feels the sting of carpet burns on her knees and elbows. Paul extricates himself from Shari's glistening flesh, stands up, and makes his way to the sofa. He plops down onto the cushion. Shari rolls over and watches Paul make himself comfortable on the worn couch. "I certainly feel better. How about you, Paul?" "That was–amazing." "Of course it was. You listened to me and gave me what I wanted. In return, I gave you the best experience of your life." "Whatever." "You can deny it all you want, but deep down, you know it's true. And that's the second lesson: treat a woman how she wants to be treated, and the reward will be substantial. Don't assume that you know anything about her. We are all different. Just pay attention, and she will reveal herself to you. Size means nothing." "I disagree. You just demonstrated why I love the big girls. No skinny woman could have given me an experience like that. "Then you haven't learned anything, yet. All women are capable of giving and receiving pleasure. No size, race or ethnicity has a monopoly on sexual performance. You can be attracted to or turned-on by a particular type of woman, but any woman can be a goddess. It's up to you to find out the right buttons to push." "Whatever you say, Yoda." Paul closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.