Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder Chapter 39: Arnold This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental. Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywild@aol.com ======================================== If this day were to be remembered for nothing else, and the possibility of that happening were as close to nil as made no difference, it would have to be how filled it had been with great blow-jobs. First, in his old kitchen, then in the truck (was that one or two?), and now on the balcony of his new apartment, perched over the crashing waves of the sea with his tongue vibrating back and forth across Chris's magnificent clit. He could tell it had been her first time taking a man that deep into her throat, but the fact that she had accomplished it at all, and that it had been so very good, made the event even more special. And he had been so hot. So turned on, though he thought he was reaching the limits of his sexual output for the evening. But this wonderful, beautiful, bright, sexy woman seemed to be able to push all the right buttons. Even as he cranked down on the rusty bolts that held the now obsolete divider in place he longed to channel that energy into another sexual encounter. It had been a long time since he had been so driven towards one person. There was, of course, always the drive, but in the back of his head he had carried the thought of saving it up to share with everyone. Suddenly he was thinking, not of who the next encounter would be with, but how soon he would be able to recover so that he could merge his libido with the wonderful woman he now heard spraying lubricant on the bolts of Patty's divider. His huge cock began to ache once again with desire. She understood. He desired her even more. When he turned around he was met with the glorious sight of her firm, round ass pointing right at him. She was bent over at the waist, knees straight, spraying the bolts along the bottom of the frame. If he could have mustered up another erection just then he would have been over there in an instant, his huge cock finding its target, slowly sliding inside her, his arms bulging as he grabbed the sides of that luscious ass and pressed his crotch forward, feeling the warmth of her hot, moist cunt envelop his erection and inviting him, urging him, forcing him to drive deep inside her, his balls immediately churning, the length of his cock humming with sensation, his head spinning with lust. She finished spraying and turned towards him, wiping her hands on a cloth he had provided for the purpose. Her nipples were hard, her breasts calling out to him. He wanted to kiss them, lick them, bite and nip at them. He wanted to feel them fill his hands as he pressed his palms into them, her moans of desire once more singing through the air like deep indigo crushed velvet. Smolder Smoke Burn Fire Hot His lust was an inferno. She saw him looking at her and a smile, bright enough to light the most troubled soul, burst upon her face. He felt it brush across his body like a fine lace curtain caught in the breeze, wrapping around him, smooth, gentle, sensual, caressing his arms, legs, lightly touching his penis, his pecs, his mind. Her eyes lowered to his. . . what? Hand? The screw-driver hung loosely in his palm. When he looked down he noticed the two tools copied each other in their relaxed state. He turned back to his efforts and, in a few minutes, removed the final bolts. Getting the sheet of fiberglass out of the brackets that held it was difficult. He finally had to climb back over the railing (for the last time, he hoped) and had Chris push on of the edges towards him. It was then a matter of bending, without breaking, and wriggling until the sheet finally wormed its way free. He leaned it against the railing at the far end of Chris's balcony. The frame had evidently been built around the sheet; too bad it had then been welded to the railing. With the divider out of the way, Arnold stepped back through the opening and lifted Chris in his arms and carried her "over the threshold" into her apartment. The significance of this was not lost on her and tears welled up in her eyes. He stopped in the middle of her living room and she brought her hands to his face, petted and stroked his cheeks and then drew her mouth to his. Their lips brushed together; wisps of sensation teased his mind. The next pass brought the sensation of moist tongue gently wiping across his lips. Again her mouth slipped seductively across his. He sought her out, nodding and diving, chasing her elusive lips until he found his target. He pressed hard against her and their mouths opened, swallowing each other, drinking each other, tongues locked in immortal combat. His hand sought out one of her breasts. As his palm wrapped around the ambrosial mound, his ears were filled with a soft, rushing sigh. The nipple pressed hard into his hand and she arched her back to increase the pressure even more. He lifted her higher in his arms and then found the hard nub with his mouth, licking, teasing, lightly nipping at it until she was squirming in his arms, moaning and crying out with agonizing desire. Her own hand dove for her cunt and sought out the hard bud of flesh he knew would be desperately calling to her. She cried out in amazement. "Oh, God, I want you. So bad. I can't believe this. You make me so hot. I'm so wet. So wet." "Have you ever been fucked with a three-day-old, overcooked spaghetti noodle?" "Oh, shit. Right. I must admit that it's hard to believe that you've run out of steam." "Only temporarily. I think my biggest problem is just a lack of fuel." "What is it with you? I've never been like this. Ever since I saw you this morning I've been doing nothing but having orgasms. I even had some guy down on the beach pop me off while he was putting sunscreen on my back." "Well, at the risk of being both obvious and immodest at the same time, you evidently have very good taste in sexual fantasies. And speaking of taste, my taste buds are about to wilt for lack of attention." "Here. Try this." She removed her hand from her crotch and brought her moist finger to his mouth. The smell of her juices sent his head spinning and he did, indeed, feel a huge surge in his cock. He sucked the delicious digit deep into his mouth and savored the thick, heady flavor which matched the wonderful odor it gave forth. Chris's other hand slid down off his shoulder, traced the side of his chest and found its way down to the base of his cock, Arnold's huge bicep held tight in the pit of her arm. "Aha. I knew you were not completely immune to my seduction." She pulled the leg closest to his body up to her chest and then wrapped it around the other side of his thick, muscular torso. She then reached behind her, grabbed his quickly stiffening cock and brought the head of it up to meet her swollen cunt lips. Arnold raised her up to allow her body to clear the end of his cock and held her there, her steamy opening hovering just millimeters above the swollen head of his gigantic erection. His biceps bulged immensely. Chris ran her free hand over the huge mound of muscle. Again she moaned as memories ignited fires deep within her. Still Arnold held her aloft. She began to squirm, trying to force her way down onto his cock. "Down, please." There was no reaction. He held her there in his arms and in his gaze. "Arnold. Please." He flicked out his tongue and teased one of her painfully erect nipples. "Oh, God. Oh, please, Arnold. I want you in me so badly. Please. Let me have your cock inside me." He transferred his attentions to her other breast, his tongue just barely not touching the inflamed nipple that crowned it. "Dammit, Arnold. Give me your cock. Please." Her hand was rubbing the crown of his bicep, her fingernails scratching the surface, tracing the thick artery that ran down its length. Her other hand still held the head of his cock. She began to squeeze and rub the thick, rubbery bulb of flesh. He groaned. She smiled. She ran her fingernails up and down the back of the shaft. His attentions to her breast increased. Her nails dug harder into both his cock and bicep. Slowly he lowered her until he could feel the weight of her body come to bear on his thick cock. "Oh yes. Please. Yes. In me. Please." He lowered her onto him. "Oh. Yes. So big. So big. Yes. God, you're so hard. So hard again. So big. More. More. Oh, your arms. So strong. So hot. Make them work. I want to feel your arms work. Lift me. Oh yes. So big. Again. Oh. Again. Yessssssss. Oh, my God. Deep. So deep. Oh, this feels so good. So fucking good. God, you're good. Now. Come on. Faster. Faster. Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes. More. More cock. More. Yes. Yes. Huh. Huh. Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes. That's it. Yes. Oh, your arms. . . so big. Your cock. So big. So big. Oh. Now. Oh, now. Yes. Yes. I'm cumming. So soon. So big. Yes. Yesss. Yesssssss. Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Ooooooooh." Arnold felt the torrent of cum juice as it flowed out of her and down the length of his cock. She was rocking herself back and forth, pushing up on his shoulders and driving herself down onto the length of his shaft. He was a long way from cumming, himself, and knew that he would probably spend the rest of the evening with a painfully erect penis, but her cries and pleadings rushed across his mind and he found great satisfaction in Chris's release. And, besides, there was definitely something to be said for the aesthetic qualities of a eleven-and-a-half inch hard-on. Meanwhile, he was loving the feeling of the pump he was getting in his biceps. The muscles filled with blood as he continued to lift Chris high up on the length of his cock and then drive her down again, each drop throwing her body into orgasmic convulsions. He loved it when they came. He loved the feeling of their vaginal muscles clamping down on his thick shaft, sliding up and down its length. This was paradise. His biceps burning, his huge cock aching, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight before him. As he lowered Chris onto his cock again, he felt the tension release from her body as the final wave of orgasm washed over her. He held her there, his cock lodged deep within her. She again grasped his face in her hands and showered hot, peppery kisses over him. Her enthusiasm filled him with such joy. He hugged her to him in his powerful arms. Her breasts pressed hard against his own massive chest. His hands dug deep into the muscles of her back, kneading and massaging. They came up to the backs of her neck muscles and began rubbing them. Chris melted in his arms. Now that he had her calmed down he made his way to her kitchen and began opening the different cabinets, the drawers, the refrigerator, to see what he had to work with. Still his cock was long and stiff, still deep within her. She would occasionally tighten her muscles, sending a shot of sexual energy zooming down his shaft and making his entire body shudder. "I don't think I'll be able to do much with you constantly distracting me like that." "Oh, I see. Now I'm just a distraction." "When you start getting between me and my low blood sugar, yes. Just remember, no fuel, no hard-on." "There's no way I'm going to let you get soft. I intend to keep you hard until well into the night. Here. Let me down off this thing." She pushed herself up in his shoulders and pulled herself off his cock. She then slid down his chest, pressing her body firmly against his. As her feet touched the floor she continued down. His cock was pressed between them and as it reached her breasts she clamped them together around the thick shaft and let the head of it emerge from between them. It rose up to her mouth and she flicked her tongue out across the head. "Oh, shit. Oooo, Chris, yeah. That feels good. So good. But I've got to get some food in me. I'm starting to get real light headed." "And, of course, that has nothing to do with me, right?" "It has everything to do with you. If I didn't have your marvelous distractions I would have eaten hours ago. How about you chop up some vegetables for a salad, I'm going to hop into your shower for a second and clean up. Then we'll see about a quick pasta and something? Okay?" "I knew it. I knew you'd find an excuse to get out of making dinner." "You forget where this has been." He wiggled his index finger at her." "Not only that, but a perfectly legitimate excuse as well." "The best kind. I promise I won't be but a couple of minutes. I also have to figure out how to take a leak with this erection." "Problem, huh?" "Yup. Constant and ever-present." "Arnold?" "Yes, Chris?" "Can I ask a favor?" "Sure." "Well, it's just that. . . I've never watched a man. . . you know." "This is really appetizing." "Sorry. I don't know what got into me. It's just that you make me feel so comfortable. Like anything is possible. I've had so many fantasies fulfilled tonight, I just thought I'd give it a shot." "You really want to see me piss?" "Yeah. And. . ." "Go for it." "I want to hold it while you go." "Sure. Why not. I gotta admit, I'm kind of turned on by the idea, myself." Chris grabbed Arnold's cock and led him to the bathroom. She lifted the toilet seat and then brought Arnold over in front of the bowl. She pressed firmly but gently down on the erect shaft until it was aimed somewhat at the toilet. And waited. And waited. And waited. After a few moments she released her grip and looked up sheepishly at Arnold who was looking down sheepishly at her. "I'd always heard it was difficult for a guy to take a leak while someone was watching him." "That's part of it. The other part is this little valve inside that closes off when we're getting ready to cum. It keeps things from backing up the wrong tube, but it takes a while to relax, especially if everything didn't get. . . ah, finished." "Does that mean you have to cum before you can take a leak?" "Probably not, but this may take a little while. Why don't I take a shower and then we'll try it again, later." "Oh, no you don't. I know what'll happen. You'll crank on the cold water and that's the last I'll see of that hard-on." "There is no way I'm going to get soft. You've got me so turned on I can't even piss. Don't worry. Everything will be just like you left it. I promise. Now go do the salad thing and I'll be out in a few minutes. If you get in that shower with me there won't be anything left but a well-hung, over-developed prune. Now scat." Arnold gave Chris a sharp smack on the butt. "Oooo." Chris stuck her ass back at Arnold, begging him to do that again. Arnold hauled back his arm to let her have a real good one. Chris braced herself for the impact. His huge arm came flying towards her, but at the last minute, screeched to a halt and lightly touched her on the cheek. He slowly traced the crack of her ass with his forefinger and then ran it lightly up her spine. Her body quivered with the chill it sent. She turned around and traced her fingernail down the length of his cock. He quivered as well. She kissed him lightly on the lips and then returned to the kitchen. Arnold released a huge sigh. He marveled at the thought of her. She seemed to fit in all the right places, cried out to be filled in all the ways he loved to fill a lover. He stroked the length of his cock, reliving the memory of her nail lightly tracing its length. How could he still be hard? And not just hard. His huge cock ached with rigidness. Hadn't he just been deep inside her? Hadn't she just driven herself down hard on him, his biceps bursting, his cock crying out for release, her hot vagina vibrating and flooding with orgasm? And here he was, with a constant, raging hard-on that was going to make his life deliciously uncomfortable for the foreseeable future. Arnold was glad for the brief moment of privacy, though. He had some serious thinking to do. He thought back to that moment on his balcony a while ago when he had laid back on the cushion after having received the wonderful blow-job that Chris had given him. He had been so filled with joy, had felt so loved. And suddenly, out of nowhere, an image of Sam, running along the beach, had burst into his mind. And he had missed her so much all those years. But the vision that had raced across his closed eyelids had been as vivid as anything he had ever experienced. And there was a confidence in her that spoke to him. She knew he was here. She knew and she also knew he would be hers again. His whole body suddenly felt like the moment he had seen her, those many years ago, dressed in her workout clothes, his huge, painful erection wrapped around his hip in the amazing outfit Mr. Ridell had bought for him. She had known his distress, she had also known how much he desired her, needed her, wanted her at that very moment. He'd had little idea, himself; didn't know what it was that she could do for him. But she had done it; had given herself; her energy, her life-force, her unconditional love. And through that mutual trust and bond they had both grown more in that one afternoon then most people do in a lifetime. They had filled each other so well; completed what was unfinished in the other. And now she was back in his life again. How was he going to keep his feelings about all this straight? Chris. Sam. Patty. Peter. All at the same time. Was there enough of him to go around? Was there enough of each of them to go around? For he knew the only way this was going to work was if they all were able to join their energies together and form what would, undoubtedly, become a most formidable union. He climbed into the shower, a mirror image of his own, save that it sported a real live shower curtain, and got the water running at the right temperature. He flipped the lever and the water rushed up the pipe in the wall, pushing a column of air and some remnants of the last shower taken in front of it. The shower head spit, fizzled and then sprayed his body with sharp needles of water that dug into his hard muscles, tight skin. He rummaged around in the shower caddie until he found some soap that didn't look like it had a specific purpose and quickly soaped himself down. When he got to his waist it took all the will power he could muster not to work his cock up into a lather. He did wash it a bit, running his hands very cautiously and slowly up and down the length of it, trying very hard not to generate too much interest. Then again, didn't he miss a spot out there by the base of the head. It certainly felt like he did. And then there were his heavy, bloated balls hanging down in his nice, loose scrotum. They certainly needed to be cleaned. First the left one. Then the right one. Did he do the left one? He couldn't remember. He'd better do it again. Just to make sure. And the back of his scrotum, the part that always rubbed up against his legs. Certainly that was in need of cleaning. And then there was that spot out there by the base of the head. Had he gotten that already? Maybe he should check it again, in case. . . "Aha. Just as I suspected. I knew I couldn't leave the two of you alone for a second." "You scared the shit out of me." "Serves you right. Trying to pop yourself off without me." "I was only. . . Oh, what the hell. Yup. You caught me red handed. What is my punishment to be, this time?" "Are you finished in there?" "Just about. Let me get my legs and feet and rinse off. I'll be out in a second." Chris just stood there, the shower curtain pushed aside. The wanting, longing look on her face told of her desire for his body. "I said I'll just be a second." "Go ahead. I can wait. The salad's not going to burn." Arnold chuckled and quickly finished soaping up the lower half of his body, trying very hard not to come in contact with the huge erection that swung out in front of him. It was difficult and Chris found his predicament quite amusing. When he had rinsed all the soap off, paying close attention to the area around his mid-section ("Well, I can't let soap dry there. You know how itchy it can get") he turned off the water and asked for a towel. Chris dug around in the small closet next to the tub and came up with a big fluffy one that consumed a good part of his body. He began to pat himself dry but Chris intervened. "Here. Let me do that." She took the towel from him and dried him off. Her hands patted and rubbed every square inch of his body. She polished the huge bulges of his muscles, teased his nipples with the very corner of the towel, brushing back and forth across them until they were achingly erect. She ran the edge of the towel back and forth under the bulge of his pecs where they curved under and met his abdomen. Arnold moaned. This was one of his most erotic places. He loved the feeling of the juncture between the two masses of muscle and the flat, taut expanse of his stomach. Chris rubbed again. Arnold squeezed his arms to his sides and the pecs grew and expanded, the cleft between them deepening, the peaks of the muscles reaching higher. She moved her mouth to one of his pecs and bit into it with her teeth, taking in a mouthful. Arnold felt an incredible surging in his loins that, given just a few more seconds of stimulus, would have turned into a full blown orgasm. Chris sensed this as well and stopped just seconds before he reached his moment. Chris dropped the towel and began to devour his pecs as though they were a woman's bosom. She fondled the masses of flesh, licked and nipped the rock hard buds suspended from the lower curves of those massive, muscular mounds. "They're so hard. So strong. I want to make love to your pecs. So big." "You seem to be doing a pretty good job of it, right now. Oooo. Yeah. Do that again." She grabbed both of his nipples and pinched them between the nails of her thumb and middle finger. He stepped out of the tub and she pressed her naked body against him, clasping his still-erect-and-becoming-more-so penis between her legs. She slid up and down the length of it and he could feel the heat of her sex on his blood-engorged shaft. "You're not making this at all easy on me, you know that." "That, my friend, is your punishment." She backed away from him, turned around and then straddled his penis once again, this time facing away from him. She then grabbed the considerable length of it which extended out before her and walked over to the toilet. "I've always wanted to know what this was like. Can you pee?" "I'll try. Just be still and patient for a couple of minutes. I have to clear my head." He tried to concentrate. "Stop that." She giggled. He took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed his body. He tried to believe that it was his own hands that now had hold of his cock. He thought about his bladder muscles, sore and extended. He thought about the great need, desire, urgency of peeing. He relaxed his sphincter muscles, which he realized were tensed, and suddenly the flow began. He hoped that Chris would realize it. He let out a long, slow sigh and sensed her readying herself. "Oh, my God. Look at that." He had no idea what she was referring to, but just continued to keep his mind clear. He felt the muscles that controlled the flow dangerously on the verge of clamping shut. Deep breaths, empty thoughts. He felt her aiming the stream around various parts of the bowl, missing the pool of water in the bottom so it wouldn't splash, holding it in one position for a couple of seconds as though trying to wash an errant pubic hair off the side. He smiled. Soon he was finished. "Now what do I do?" "Shake it." She wiggled her ass against his groin. "Not that, you silly person, my cock. You have to shake it to get anything that's left out and into the toilet. Just don't do it too hard, or you'll have to clean it up." She gently shook the shaft and he flexed the proper muscles and a few more squirts and then a couple of drops came out. "Very good. Did you get the pubic hair?" "How did you know?" "You think we just stand there and let it happen. It's a very satisfying thing to get all the foreign objects washed off before running out of ammo." "It's very. . . controlling. Very powerful. Kind of makes me jealous." "Just think of that the next time you're standing in the middle of a room and you suddenly see someone who really turns you on. It can be quite embarrassing and frustrating." "I love it when I make a guy get a hard-on. It's the only guaranteed honest reaction you can get from a guy. Everything else can be faked." "Tease." "Slut." "Sticks and stones. . ." "If the shoe fits. . ." "I'm really hungry. Let's get something, anything, on the table." Arnold grabbed Chris's shoulders and began to walk out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. Chris fell into step, the huge dick still clasped between her legs and together they bellied up to the kitchen counter. She had already put water on to boil for the pasta and there was a huge bowl of salad on the table. Arnold reached into the basket that hung above the sink and retrieved a head of garlic and an onion. He rummaged through the spice rack and came up with a couple of ingredients and then went to the fridge an dug out a pepper and some mushrooms. "You realize, of course, that we both have to eat this. That way we can't tell whose bad breath we're smelling." "Looks good so far. Cook away." "Where's you iron skillet?" "Over there. You want me to dismount?" "You just stay right where you are. At the rate I'm going, here, I'm looking forward to the arrival of an extra ingredient any moment." Chris's head dropped down and she looked at his cock protruding from her crotch. It had really begun to ache and, although he couldn't see it, he knew from the feel, as well as her reaction, that it looked dangerously close to erupting. "I don't know if I'm up to mixing my metaphors here. Perhaps I'd better stand aside, at least until you get things going here." "Suit yourself. I just thought you might be interested in. . ." "Never mind. Just cook." She pulled away from him and sat down at the table, absently picking at the bowl of salad while she feasted her eyes on Arnold's nakedness. Arnold busied himself with chopping, cutting and stirring. In minutes he had a fry pan full of vegetables and oil and spices simmering away. He washed his hands and went to the salad bowl. Chris's eyes locked onto his continually rigid cock as he walked towards her. When he got close enough to the table he swung his hips to the right and knocked the salad bowl with his stiff member. "Oops, sorry. I guess I forgot it was there." "Yeah, right. And I'm. . . I'm" "You are the most wonderful, loving, sexy, bright, beautiful person I've had the pleasure of making love to in many, many years. You make me ache just to look at you." Chris was caught completely off-guard. She started to say something, swallowed it, tried to speak again, and again the words were choked in her throat. Again, tears welled up in her eyes. She stood and wrapped her arms around Arnold's neck, drawing herself to him. Her warm, naked body pressed against him and he could feel a churning in his groin, a churning in his mind, a churning in his heart. Yes, he had loved, in different ways, every person he had ever had sex with. But something here was different. Things seemed to be running a little closer to the surface. And of course, there was the added complication of Patty. And Peter. And Sam. Sam. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. Within the next forty-eight hours he and Sam were going to meet again. And when they did, things were going to get very interesting around here. Very interesting, indeed.