My [f] Size Queen Origin Story

The first one was fun, so I figured I’d do it again. An origin story is always fitting right? I debated between my origin story ending in my discovery that I’m kind of a size queen or my origin story ending in my first successful reddit hookup. This origin story will probably have less angst than most, so you’ll have to soothe your need to read about people more unfortunate than yourself elsewhere. I’ve posted before about a reddit hookup, so I guess you can check that out if you want. But you don’t have to. But you can.

Having had five sentences to think about it, let’s go with size queen origin story. It takes place in an office setting, so if you don’t want to read an episode of The Office but with explicit sex scenes, maybe skip this one. To set the mood, slice your shower orange in half, because citrus smells are legit. Freaking moisturize your hands if you’re going to touch yourself so it feels nice and soft, because you deserve it. It got long, but I think the power dynamics are important to establish here. I’ll still put a line of asterisks where the sex starts so you can skip ahead if you have no appreciation for a half decent build up.

This story begins many moons ago, during a time called 2014, when I was an excited young professional taking my first job out of college and feeling kind of high on myself. I accepted a position in a very competitive developmental program designed as an accelerated path to a management position. I wasn’t the most qualified, but I was (and remain) attractive so maybe that helped, since one person on panel who hired me went on to sexually harass me (except I was into it, kind of? I digress – that’s a different story).

So anyways, I show up to the giant corporate orientation. There’s maybe 30-40 people in a giant classroom setting. There’s only one other person, Aaron, who is going to be in the program I am – he’s this very generically handsome guy. Like he fades into the background but when you look at him, he’s attractive. I’m blonde, 5’2″, and have been praised as “work hot” and “hot hot”, so I guess we’re evenly matched to be rivals, which we quickly become. Starting on the same day means that if we both keep our spots in our program, we will eventually compete for the final positions at the end of the program. Now – rival may be a strong word for what we are. We are always friendly, but distant. As we go through our first weeks of training, we sometimes chat about performance and both always seem to know where we rank compared to each other in an array of metrics. We ask each other for tips we don’t need in good sportsmanship, and broadly smile to congratulate one another on accomplishments. We always wish one another well, and never speak the second part where we hope the other does well, but slightly worse than the ourselves.

We have little in common outside of being competitive and attractive. The tension is always there as an undercurrent. The one-upping is subtle. We are completed from our program to apply for the same job after a year of this delicate dance. Luckily, we each land a position and so we begin the dance all over again racing to the next promotion. We branch out into different areas for a year or so before we find ourselves literally applying for the same jobs again. We discuss the portfolios we put together to submit to the interview panels across the country. We share our methods and discuss the intense desire to succeed. We both make it to the final round of a really great opportunity in a major metro area that requires us to fly out for our interviews, held one after the other. We book our flights and hotels together, with plans to explore the city the day before our interviews. He picks me up and we go to the airport together. I consider all the ways that I’m better than him so I can make sure to highlight them the next day. I think on his flaws while we make small talk when he says something that gets my attention.

“I was thinking we could look over our notes together tonight after dinner in one of our rooms.” He says on the flight, crammed into economy seats next to each other.

I look at him with suspicion because he isn’t the obsessive prepper. I am, and I think he’s trying to appeal to it. I wonder why he would be trying to find out more about my strategy, since I assumed this interview would be another thing he stumbled into with no prep at all.

“Getting nervous?” I ask, because his constantly cool and calm demeanor makes me wish I could see him shaken, even just once. We both know there is only one job this time. I wish him well in interviews, even in the privacy of my own mind, but recognize the necessity of beating him at this job interview. My pride and ego would be shot to lose it to him of all people. I spend a lot of time working to be the best, and it seems like he just shows up and lets success happen to him. I both respect and hate him for it.

“No way. I just thought we could help each other.” I can’t resist the urge to narrow my eyes, but he doesn’t notice. He’s staring at my tits in my cotton v-neck shirt. He looks up and sees I’ve caught him, but doesn’t say anything. He looks forward instead, and shifts in his seat so that his legs are spread a little wider and our legs now rest against each other so lightly you’d easily think it was an accident or that we are crossing more into the realm of friends on a crowded plane than friendly rivalry. I don’t move, and neither does he.

I think I say maybe and go back to studying for the interview the next day. He isn’t studying, and I kind of hate him for it. It makes me need to beat him all that much more since it would be unbearable to have prepped so much and watch him get it with no effort. The spot where our knees touch grows to include our thighs as I try to memorize numbers, and it feels like the focal point of my existence until he shifts again so that the bare skin of my arm touches his, which is somehow cold while our knees are hot. We do not speak the rest of the way.

The rest of the day passes without incident. We go into the city and see some of the sights and never touch. The most scandalous thing that happens is maybe holding eye contact for too long. While we take the train back to our hotel, it occurs to me that he’s trying to fuck me. I realize – I can’t let him fuck me. I have to fuck him first, otherwise its like he wins? I write that with a question mark because even now it makes sense, but I know it doesn’t.

“You’re still coming over tonight?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’ll take a shower and be over after we’re back” he says as we head back to our hotel. I consider the fact that I always shower before mutual interview prep (/sarcasm).

“You get one hour and then I have to get back to prepping.” I say, staring straight at him in what I hope is a power move.

“What do you mean? I’m coming over to help you.” He replies and he doesn’t even sound a little sincere.

“No you’re not.” I say, and he breaks eye contact. I’ve won.

We get checked into our hotel rooms. I shower and refuse to try to look attractive for this. I wear these really soft leggings which just so happen to cling to my legs so well that there’s hardly any reason to wear pants at all and a tank top over a sports bra. My hair stays in its messy bun from the shower. Light make up. Giant warby parker glasses. More casual than anything he would have seen me in before. He shows up in gym shorts and a shirt, and for a second it’s kind of like seeing your teacher outside of school or something. Someone presented in a wholly other environment than the one in which they belong, industrial fluorescent lighting and pressed clothes traded in for the orangey hotel lamps and clothing so tight that there’s hardly room for creases at all.

“Where’s your stuff?” I ask, because he’s shown up empty handed.

“I wanted to see what you had,” he says as he walks past the desk with my materials clearly spread out to sit on the edge of my bed. We’re like wolves circling each other in a smaller and smaller circle. Every move one makes is intentional. Every move made is observed and considered. Not to be outdone in the act of pretending this is normal or the competition to see who can pretend to be most comfortable in my own hotel room (he already gave up the territory advantage, right?), I sit against the headboard with my arms crossed and my legs stretched out. He sits at the foot of my bed but on the opposite side, and we both stare straight ahead at a mirror into each other’s reflections. He doesn’t shift his position to accommodate my refusal to position myself conveniently.

“What if I had wanted to see what you had?” I ask, because “show you mine/show me yours” is too cliche, even for this.

“I brought mine.” He says, but the corner of his mouth twists into a grin. A chink in the serious facade. I feel my face flush and pull my eyes away from the clear outline of a semi-flaccid cock in his shorts before I even realized I’d broken eye contact and looked. When I meet his eyes again, he clearly caught me. I fucking hate his cocky smirk, and the fact that I am going to fuck him.

“Show me.” I say, and the challenge is clear in my voice. My peripheral vision is straining to see his bulge again. I won’t break eye contact again. He reaches down and rests his hand on my calf and holds my eyes while he pushes my legs off the side of the bed, so that my feet are in the ground.

“Come show yourself.” He places his of his palms behind himself, leaning back to watch me walk around the bed and press my back against the mirror as I close the circle and bring us face to face. His cock is clearly hard and clearly big. I wonder if he’s wearing layers because it looks thicker than anything I’ve ever seen before. This motherfucker thinks I’m going to pull his cock out. The worst part is that I actually really want to.

I take a beat too long searching for the right retort. His eyes find mine again and look down at the floor and then back up to me, and the subtext that I should get on my knees is clear. It takes every fiber of my being to act like I don’t want to see what he is clearly packing. In the back of my mind, I’ve considered different materials or ways the clothes must be creasing to make it appear bigger than it could possibly be.

I let the silence stretch before I speak again. “It’s not like you to miss a chance to show off.” I cross my arms and ankles as I speak to indicate I’m not moving. There are maybe 3 feet between us.

“Neither do you. Take your top off.” He says, and I don’t even have time to consider a retort before my bra and tank top are on the floor. He broke the ice, but I make the first move and manage to work in an element of disobedience.

“This is what going beyond basic expectations looks like.” I say. There is a growing spot of pre-cum showing through his shorts, and I want to taste it. My attention is still focused on that spot when he firmly places his hands behind my thighs, right under the ledge of my ass and pulls me with a strength I don’t know that I could have resisted, had I wanted to. He raises me into the air and sits me on his waist, and my arms and legs instinctively wrap around him. As he holds me against him, he’s eye level with my exposed breasts. My nipples note his every exhalation, and my cunt gets the message.

“You overachieving bitch,” he says directly to my tits, finger tips still pressed into my inner thighs from behind. I’m suddenly aware of the growing heat between my legs. It’s somehow the most genuine he’s sounded all day. I shift in his grip, noticing how my cunt is soaking wet and the lips of my cunt almost glide around each other, slick for him of all people, for Aaron. My pride revolts, and the heat between my legs flares in rebellion. The fact that I’m not supposed to fuck him and have every reason not to fuck him makes me suddenly need him. I know I need his cock. If I don’t at least get to see it and have to walk around wondering if it was a trick forever, I will go insane. He has every advantage in life already, and (if the universe is just) does not deserve a giant cock. The line was crossed some time ago, but it is tramped into the sand as he takes my nipple into his mouth. One hand leaves my thigh to cup the other boob and his touch creates a weird kind of electricity. Before today, we had at most maybe awkwardly side armed for group photos or accidentally bumped arms in a meeting after two years of near daily interaction. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe or that my own life has skipped a chapter, and I can’t make sense of how to reconcile the emotions coursing through me. Pride. Anger. Lust. Confusion.

“Does it bother you?” I ask, and feel his teeth lightly bite my nipple in return. I don’t think anyone has ever put their tongue on my tits before at least making out. Somehow not kissing him makes sense, because what we’re about to do isn’t going to be passionate. We’ve competed so many times before, and competing in the ultimate power exchange makes sense. I’m going to taste his cum, and it’s kind of going to taste like victory.

“I have waited so long to see these giant tits,” he says and there is a note of admiration in his tone. My cunt is pressed against his stomach, and he must feel the growing wetness. He’s admitted to wanting this, and before I can finish basking in the small victory, he is placing my ass on the floor and standing back to his full height. I sit on the floor looking up at him, and watch as he pulls off his own shirt. Then I notice that the swollen head of his cock is visible over the top of his gym shorts, and a fat drop of precum is rolling down it towards his waistband.

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I know this is a battle for some kind of weird dominance and a power struggle, but I didn’t even realize this regular dude working in my office could just be walking around with a cock like this. It’s easily the biggest cock I’ve ever seen, and the completionist in me no longer cares that we’re casual work rivals or that I should be prepping for tomorrow. I push myself onto my knees and rest my hands on his hips over his shorts, because touching him is still somehow foreign. For a moment time stands still, and all that exists in the universe is Aaron’s cock, the drop of precum rolling down his head, and me. Any clever retort is far from my mind. I’m purely driven by instinct and curiosity as I lean forward and stick my tongue out to catch the cum before it hits his waistband. The deep moan he makes breaks my trance and my eyes snap up to meet his.

In a swift motion his shorts are in a puddle at his feet and his cock is easily nine inches long, and at least as thick as my wrist. He sits back down on the edge of the bed, and I follow him on my knees. I am kneeling between his legs as I reach out for his cock and marvel at how large it is in my hand. It even occurs to me that I’m on my knees for him exactly how I refused to be earlier, and I don’t care. Fucking him is going to hurt, I know it, and my pussy is dripping in anticipation. I put the head in my mouth carefully, trying to figure out the mechanics of having a cock this big in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head to get my bearings as I move my hand down the shaft. I look up at him to gauge his reaction.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to see you choke on my dick.” He says and thrusts himself into my mouth until his cock hits the back of my throat, with several inches left to swallow. My defiant nature flares up again. I don’t think I’m the best cocksucker out there, but I am one of the most committed and this cock is going down my throat. I try several different angles. I manage to get it closer, but can’t force it into my throat. I try, bobbing my head up and down his cock. I rub his cock all around the back of my throat, encouraging it to go down. Thick spit coats his cock with every thrust against my throat until it’s running down my chin and his balls. I wipe my hand against my mouth and spread the moisture around his balls, and he moans an expletive as I do. As his fists curl in my hair, I can tell he thinks he gets to face fuck me. He doesn’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because he can’t cum before I feel his cock wreck my pussy. I pull off and tell him to lay back on the bed.

“I can’t believe *you* sock cock like that” he says, even as he moves back onto the bed so that his head is against my pillows. “No one is ever going to believe me.” He says, and his face is nearly beaming. Reality snaps back. My breath catches in my throat. My thoughts race. He must be able to tell I’m starting to panic because he says “I’m just fucking you,” through a laugh. I weirdly relax a little, because this feels more like our usual dynamic. We have a common goal and I’m all worked up while he’s keeping it cool.

“I should make you leave right now” I say, moving onto the bed on my hands and knees, crawling up his body. I drag my tongue over his cock one more time as I keep moving up.

“Tell me to leave” He replies, and I’m frustrated because there is no way I could let him leave without feeling him inside of me. I sit up and my knees are on either side of his hips. I grab his cock and rub it between my labia, mixing his precum with my own wetness, teasing against my entrance. I can’t believe I’m about to put a cock this big inside of me. I can’t believe I’m about to put Aaron’s cock inside of me.

“Go.” I say, doubling down.

“That’s not leave.” He says and pushes his cock up against my cunt. Every nerve in my body is screaming at me to sit on his cock. Impale myself on it. Stretch myself to the limits to put him in his place. I let myself grind down and the head of his cock penetrates me. I gasp at the sudden pressure but slowly rock my hips back and forth to get his cock covered in my juices so I can take all of him. I’ve never had to actually *try* at sex like this before. The thrill of the challenge is coursing through me as I grind my cunt down his length until, finally, my ass rests against his hips and he’s all the way inside.

I feel like I might explode. The head of his cock is pressed against my cervix and my hips involuntarily move in circles to rub the head of his cock against my a spot. It hurts but in the most delicious way. I feel myself gush each time his cock glides against my cervix and continues gyrating my hips until I can feel I’ve soaked his balls as they press against my ass. The whole time I’m babbling fucking stupid things I still don’t want to admit to saying about how no one has ever stretched me like this before. He feeds right into it, telling me to take all of his cock and how warm my pussy is for such a cold bitch.

I want to fuck him for all he’s worth before I fuck him even harder tomorrow. I begin moving my hips up and down, twerking on his cock. He watches my tits and hips bounce for a minute before reaching down to stroke my clit with his thumb. I refuse to entertain the idea of letting this asshole make me cum. I turn around and impale myself on his cock again, letting him watch my ass bounce up and down his cock while he lays there on the bottom, watching me fuck him. I’m surprised when he grabs my hips and pushes me forwards so that I’m on my hands and knees and he repositions himself on his knees behind me. We are both facing the mirror across from the bed, and I watch him watch himself enter me from behind. His cock stretches me out all over again, but faster this time and not a second to adjust. He slams into me with hard, staccato strokes that make my tits jump forward while he watches in the mirror. He presses both palms into my lower back, giving himself greater access to blowout my cervix. Every stroke feels amazing but I don’t know how much more I can take before the pain of his cock against my punished cervix is too much. I bite my lip to keep from yelling while he says the most wonderful and awful things.

“I’ve waited two years to fuck you.”

“This is for every time you wear those white pants that are too tight on your ass to work.”

“I can’t believe how fucking amazing you are.”

My back aches from being pressed into an arch and I’m begging him to cum in me because I can’t let myself tap out.

“You’re going to take my load, bitch” he grunts and his strokes and fast and hard. My face is pressed against the mattress and my hips are high in the air. My hands are balled up in the sheets.

“Please. Please cum in me.” I say, and I mean it. I won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow. I need him to finish because I can’t take being stretched for this long.

“Say my name.” He says, and he takes one hand off of my back to pull my head up by my bun so that I see us in the mirror, him plowing me from behind, determination and ecstasy clear on my face.

And I do. I say his name and it comes out as a growl from the bottom of my throat. He thighs shudder as he cums, and his hand trembles against the small of my back. I feel the hot streams of his cum fill me up, and my cunt twitches involuntarily against his pulsating cock as it fills me up.

And from then on, I was on a quest to stuff myself with huge cocks. Neither of us got the job we interviewed for, but he got cut after this interview and I made it more one round before also not getting the job. I managed to deepthroat him eventually, but this is already way too long. As always, would love to hear about what you liked and what you’d like to hear more of. My PMs are always open.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/eeqnc4/my_f_size_queen_origin_story