I slipped off the footstool, fell on my ass, and the bag of chip clips dumped off the shelf all over my face. I had a fleeting fantasy that a man was spunking my cheeks and not clips. I’m not gay. These are just domination fantasies right? 90 percent I’m sure I’m not gay. My vision was spirals. For second the kitchen lamp became the sun, and I was a 39 year old man with a family, beautiful wife, and nephews. Snap back to the real. Or whatever this is.
My name is David. Or Daniel? No. It’s Daniel. I’m twenty nine years old. My dad hates me and my step mom is sick. My brother just moved to Colorado. I live in Denver. I work warehousing for a fab shop. I love the hell out of sativa and whatever was in the hell pills Claire dropped into the Fanta. Oo. There’s still fanta. On the table. That’s a fuck shit easier than fresh lemonade. I’m not sure I could cut lemons anyways. And oh yeah. I’m way too high to go buy lemons. Fuck, my name is Chris. And I’m totally naked and have a raging boner. Dammit.
For me, weed fucks with my track of time. I go through loops of alternate lives. The people stay the same, but the places and our place in reality gets swapped around. Am I ranting? Do you want to hear about all this? These alternate lives last for like a minute before I remember what I was doing. In that minute I have childhood, a first crush, sometimes college, unique brands of window cleaner so mundane I forget aren’t real, a career I could never see myself doing, hour spent tasting joke jelly beans with my only son or daughter, being loved by people I barely know.
I’m at the table now. The Fanta is warm dammit. Fuck the blinds are open and I’m about as exposed as one of those hairless chimps on the Joe Rogan show. Wait. I live on the fourth story. Only the fuckin’ crows are gunna see me. Probably Snapping me right now to make viral on Tweeter. I need clothes. I put on my leather jacket with the fur hood and went to find the woman with the most delicious butt cheeks I had ever tasted.
Somehow I missed the bedroom and ended up in the bathroom. Brushing my teeth.
“Chris? A hamster’s driving a Hyundai.” That came from the other room. Fuck I thought to myself. Claire’s voice is soooo hot. Like in perpetual state of pouty and ‘I know you wanna fuck me but Tik Tok is funny.’ “Did you drop your weights on a cat or is that your neighbor beating his kids?”
She must be talking about me falling. Did I fall? I didn’t fall. Must be my fucking neighbor jagging off again. I should get handweight, go up there, right now and.. jagg off with him. Hehehehe. I looked at myself in the mirror. Fuck I’m a hairy lean mutherfucker. Kind of like Connor McGregor, but more German, 90 percent less tats, an equally majestic beard, and twice the balls. Don’t believe me? Connor wouldn’t step foot near Claire in her corset and an unlabeled bag of white pills. I need me more of those speaking of which. Why is my hand soap refilled and my toothbrush has a jar to rest in now. Awww! Claire sorted my bathroom. Reasonably enthralled and twice as horny, I pranced to the bedroom.
Clairs ass is legendary. She’s a dancer or fencer, I can’t remember at this second which life this is, but her legs are all muscle. She’s also a fucking trouble maker. She loves Victorian history, drugs, pudgy small animals, and no trespassing signs.
“Goin’ somewhere?” She peered over her shoulder, saw me leaning in the doorway with nothing but a biker jacket, a hardon, and probably the biggest smile ever at the sight of her enormous ass. She was lying on her stomach on her bed. She was watching something about a pudgy small animal on top the steering wheel of a Honda. The corset was gone and she was in a T shirt. ‘Thank Satan’, I thought. I don’t even know how you fasten I corset, let alone get it off while impatient and horny. It donned on me why I wouldn’t think that not seeing straight wouldn’t make it harder to get a corset off a thick chick like Claire, especially when she’s undoubtedly fucking with me, jerking me off or kissing me, simply to frustrate me, but I didn’t peruse the line of thought further. I needed to get out of this door way and closer to Claire. I needed my hands on her tits. Or over her mouth before she cast a spell on me. Fucking witch. What was in that brew she gave me earlier anyways?
“Chris?”
“What baby dollface?”
“Are you going out to get us lemonade?”
I looked down at myself, bomber jacket and boner, and snort laughed. “Fuck no. I’m comin’ over there to tear your ass up and leave you a quaking, whimpering…” It was about here I forgot what I was saying, drifted into an alternate life where there were giant Doritos in the sky, then snapped back at Clair’s, ‘Uhhuh. Sure you are big guy.’
I strutted over to her. She ignored me. She was watching a vine or whatever it is these days of a cat playing a three key piano and looking at the cameraman for approval with big pupilly eyes. I tucked my hands under one immense, delicious, naked firm thigh, and one soft titty, and rolled Claire onto her back. She looked up at me with a wry smile.
“Can I help you? Sir?” She brought her knees up. They could roll inward or outward. The variable heat death of the universe depended on that conclusion in my mind. She had such a wry smile. She was not nearly as high as I was, and this was sorely unfair. I was outgunned. Even if I had upperbody on her, she could control me completely with her legs if I wasn’t smart. I was barely standing straight up. I crawled on the bed, and sat on top her hips, her knees to my back.
“Madam.” I said. I stared deep into her eyes. I could tell that she could tell I was about to fuck her into obliteration. I bent down, pinched her shirt with two hands between her boobs, and just as she yelled, ‘Nooo!’, I tore her shirt from the center, and didn’t stop until it was an open vest.
Claire gasped, but she was hiding a fat smile behind her hand, still clutching her phone. On the phone, some guy was shaking a ferret back and forth to belly dancing rhythms. “You ass!”, she said loudly.
She didn’t need to grab me in her legs to control me. I fell right over as she rolled us. Sort of like how I fell off the stepstool, she plopped me onto the bed and she was on top.
“You do NOT get to rip a seamstress’s clothes!” Or that’s what she was trying to say. Her sentence was cut short by a raising of her pitch and a furrowed brow. She was sitting on my cock and I dug it upwards. Her hotshorts were still between me and infinite ecstasy, but this was close enough. She grinded on me, and I dug back, both of us moaning audibly. If neighbor wasn’t jagging off, he probably was now.
Now if you’ve yet to fuck a lower body powerhouse like a volleyball player or runner, it’s pretty fucking phenomenal. There’s so much control, grace, and stamina being directed right at your singular nerve bundle. I probably could cum just from the lap dance.
That’s not what Claire had in mind thought. She took another hit from the pen, and blew it into my face. My tolerance is not hers, so I’m probably getting higher, just from the second hand exposure.
My memory is kind of foggy, but I remember Clair making my take off her hotshorts with my teeth. Or at least, I laid there, as she buried my face in her ass and bit them as an anchor so she could slide out of them. And then there was the sweetest hug of the world as her giga hips sank onto mine. There is nothing warmer than a woman. I will die on this hill.
Claire doesn’t just ride. She warcharges into the armies of darkess like the last hobbit movie. I do not know how a human penis can last against such an assault. The stimulation is incredible. And her boobs are fucking flying if she’s not gripping them against her chest. And I have such a thing for her voice. Normally it’s pretty low and nonchalant, but it gets so high when there’s cock inside her. Clair rode me until I came, and then filled with cum and the slowburning edibles just kicking in, she gets horny.
Horny Claire is a force of nature. And we’re speaking one so indomitable, that even post nut softness becomes stuff of myth. She grinds harder, and with actual athletic efforts. Nursing and prodding my weiner into a second wind not a minute after my first round. No slipping into timelines here. The moment will not be denied. Post orgasm stiffies are painful for me, at first, but the added stimulus just makes me crazier. I’m into it a little while after she jumps us into overdrive, and I actually flipped her and finished her off in missionary. I was jackhammering her for a fat minute. She doesn’t cum. Always struggled I guess. But she has alot of fun getting smashed.
And fuck aren’t her cuddles the absolute best.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/sxohib/sex_with_with_my_thick_as_hell_best_friend_while