Magnum Mike & The Pinkie Dick [FM]

My wife wrote this. There’s some follow up about some of her future experiences with Mike on our blog at: http://relationshipgoalsxxx.com/magnum-mike-and-the-pinkie-dick/

My first major relationship began when I was 19 and lasted almost 3 years. While its end isn’t particularly pertinent to this story, I feel the need to tell you that he, a grown ass man, cheated on me with a 14 year old. Anyone playing those games needs to be put on blast, but still, it’s neither here nor there. The most important player in this saga is the rebound guy. We’ll call him Mike.

Mike and I had known each other for years. We attended high school together, and our group of friends occasionally intersected. He happened to be working at the convenience store where I stopped to purchase my post-break up ice cream after ending the first meaningful relationship of my life. I explained what had just happened, and he almost immediately asked if I wanted to go out sometime. This was in my hot mess days, so I thought nothing of the inappropriate timing. We made a date and stuck to it.

Mike and I always had fun hanging out. He was funny, awkwardly sweet, and had great taste in music and movies. He respected my need to take things slow after ending things with my ex, and I’m fairly certain that he and his friends egged the house of the teenage girl said ex was fucking, although he would never admit to it past an amused smirk. We spent nights watching movies and making out. His hands had made it to my tits, but I, still preoccupied with the residual messiness of my life, had yet to do any scouting in regards to his body.

A few weeks into our relationship, we were both ready. We stumbled into his apartment below his grandmother’s house after our date, frantically kissing and removing each other’s clothes. Thanks to my enthusiasm for going commando under short dresses, I was naked moments before him. I remember seeing the flash of his plaid boxers as he ran to his DVD player and I made myself comfortable on the edge of his bed.

“You OK with porn?” he asked, flipping through a stack of DVD cases.

“I am more than OK with porn,” I replied, fully aware that my words sounded more like a purr than an actual statement.

“Like, OK with porn like you want to impress me, or OK with porn like OK with porn?” he asked.

Does your dick really care about the difference? I thought. I assured him again that, yes, I was more than OK with porn. I was most definitely not trying to impress him; if anything, I was understating how much I liked porn. In fact, I could have had a lengthy conversation about my favorite genres and history of viewership—spanning from scrambled, occasionally visible tits on Skinamax when I was a teenager to my current job at a local video store with a wide selection of free-to-me adult film rentals—but let’s be real here: I was there for the dick, not for the movie.

It hadn’t occurred to me in the moment that his choice of pornography should have been red flag number one, but I definitely started to second guess my life choices when the familiar screams of Girls Gone Wild came from the screen.

“Uh, what’s this?” I asked as he pushed me onto my back.

“Girls Gone Wild,” he replied. His words were muffled against my lips, and he began to kiss his way down my body.

“Girls Gone Wild isn’t porn,” I said bluntly. Drunken screams echoed through the apartment, and despite the fact that his tongue had found my clit, it was beginning to feel a lot like fuck this.

“It’s porn enough,” Mike said, burying his face between my legs.

So there I was. I was receiving some pretty decent head from a pretty decent dude, and I couldn’t concentrate because of all the woo girls screaming and flashing me in the background. I wanted moans. I wanted screams. I even wanted the squishy sounds. Anything but the woo girls.

I spotted the remote teetering on the edge of the bed, just out of fingertips’ reach. Not wanting to do anything to discourage Mike’s oral prowess, I tried to stretch for it in the most casual way possible. To not distract him, I grabbed a handful of his curly hair and forced his face further between my legs. He responded with intensified oral, and the only thing I could complain about was still not being able to reach the remote.

I wanted to cum. I didn’t just want to cum; I wanted to cum into a shaking, shivering pile of exhausted girl who, after a few minutes, was going to hop on that dick like a goddamn porn star—an actual one, not a woo girl. But they wouldn’t let me. Joe Francis and his band of bumbling woo-ers were in my head. I had to stop it almost as much as I had to cum.

In near desperation, I reached into my repertoire and pulled out something I’d never used on the first time with anyone. With my fingers still tangled in his hair, I sat up in one swift motion. My free hand casually grabbed the remote; the other forced his tongue even harder against my clit as I began moving my hips to fuck his face. As my moans grew louder, I slowly decreased the volume of the television until the sound of me cumming was the only thing in the room.

At that point, he didn’t even notice the lack of wooing.

Mike looked at me as if I had done something noble like cure cancer instead of pulling his hair and making myself cum. He threw me back on the bed and began kissing me. I could taste myself on his lips; they were sweet and full of pheromones. He pulled away to determine my willingness to fuck. I slowly nodded, and he reached into his nightstand for a condom.

I wasn’t expecting to see the gold and black wrapper of a Magnum come out of the nightstand. Mike was short and a little chubby while cutting weight for his upcoming adventure in the military. Nothing about him screamed, “I have a dick worthy of a Magnum!” but I wasn’t going to complain. He opened the condom and finally began removing his boxers, which had secretly begun to infuriate me by impeding the fact that I wanted fucked.

And then the evening took a turn. What was anticipation of what would be my first Magnum dick quickly turned into confusion. The dick before me wasn’t a Magnum dick. It wasn’t even an average dick. Don’t get me wrong; size really doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing. But as I watched him try to reliably place the large condom on his not so large penis, I began to wonder if he thought his balls were supposed to go in the condom, too.

He looked at me, and I shook my head no. “What?” he asked.

“That’s not going to work,” I said. I was trying to be gentle; after all, Mike was a good guy, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“What do you mean?”

I watched him struggle with the condom for a few more seconds and sighed. “Do you have any other condoms?”

“No, why?”

“It’s a little…big on you. And I’m not trying to get pregnant here, dude.”

“Which is why we’re using a condom,” Mike deadpanned.

I stopped and looked at his face. For a second, I considered explaining the concept of overflow and slipping condoms to him, but I saw that it wasn’t going to matter. I also considered just abandoning the idea of sex and going down on him until he came down my throat, but honestly, his stupidity was making it hard to sustain my sex drive. I’d made a lot of bad decisions in my life, but my one hard and fast rule was to never fuck a stupid person.

I apologized to him as I gathered my dress and shoes. I kissed him quickly and told him that we’d revisit the idea of sex when he bought a better fitting brand of condom. Before he could argue—hell, before he could even understand my side of the argument—I was out the door and on the way home.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6eba9x/magnum_mike_the_pinkie_dick_fm