Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 13: Chris

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

========================================

	After Chris had watched Patty's departure from the parking lot she
headed for her dark room to develop her most recent photographic study
which she was already referring to as her "spy-hole series."
	She shut the door to the dark room and turned the lights over to
red. Hanging all over the space were strips of negatives, eight by tens,
various "art" shots and other leftovers from current and past
projects. They were all quickly pulled down and piled unceremoniously on a
stool in the corner. She removed the exposed film from the camera,
developed the negative and scanned it with her expert eye. The image in the
spy hole was tiny, so it was difficult to make out the quality, even with a
loop. She stuck the negative in the enlarging camera and laid a sheet of
blank photographic paper on the table beneath. This she covered with a
thick piece of white foamcore. She turned on the light in the camera and
the image of the first frame appeared before her. She adjusted the camera
to enlarge the image. As it grew and focused she was able to discern her
new neighbor's massive physique, distorted by the fisheye lens of the spy
hole. The light was a bit dim, but she knew she had compensated for that in
the later shots by opening up the lens to a higher f-stop. She closed the
lens of the camera, removed the board and then briefly exposed the large
sheet of paper to the image being projected by the camera above.
	The process was repeated over and over, each frame on the roll of
negatives being enlarged, enhanced when possible, cropped and, most of all,
studied. As the set of images were developed the sense of witnessing a
performance reoccurred to her. There was a definite "theatrical" quality to
his presence. She had seen it many times while shooting the more
professional, and therefore easy to work with, models. Each shot had the
feeling that a photographer always looked for: posed candidness. By the
time she got to the series of him contemplating his phenomenal cock she was
sure she'd been duped. But what did this mean?
	He obviously hadn't minded or he wouldn't have posed for her. He
also probably wouldn't have tolerated her taking her first shots. The
thought of him punching his fist through the door and ripping the camera
out of her hands, crumbling it up like a used cigarette pack, had an
intriguing, if dangerous, quality to it. But most interesting of all was
the fact that he could apparently make that remarkable dick of his jump out
of his shorts on command. She was impressed. She wondered what other forms
of control he had.
	When she finished developing all the enlargements and had hung them
up to dry she sat down on the stool (crushing several client's work in the
process) to absorb the effect of the display before her. With each
developing photo she had grown more and more horny until she was constantly
rubbing her thighs together, stimulating her clitoris and causing her
juices to flow.
	She generally didn't like to masturbate more than once a day. She
had always figured if she needed it that bad she should go out and really
do something about it. There certainly were no lack of willing prospects
for the job. She was, by any standards, a beautiful woman. She had spent a
good deal of time on the open side of the camera lens and had used the
experience to good advantage when she moved around to the side where you
squinted a lot. This was what made her so good with the models she worked
with. She knew how to get the best out of them, knowing their attitudes and
insecurities, having fed on them herself. She also knew when they were
giving her shit for poses and what she had to say to get them to cut the
crap. So when she needed something stimulating between her legs, and it
didn't always have to be a dick, she had plenty of names in her book she
could call. And she didn't just take, either. Many men and women could
count themselves lucky to have shared a sexual experience with her. She
hoped she would soon be able to say the same thing about her new neighbor.
	The problem was that she had these photographs in front of her and
they were making her extremely hot. She covered up the chemical tubs, put
away all the unexposed paper and grabbed the whole collection. She went
into the living room and spread them out on the coffee table. Sorting
through them, she finally narrowed them down to her favorite two.
	One was an ultra-enlargement of one of the "contemplative"
shots. She had blown it up so that the entire eight by ten was filled with
the image of his huge cock resting in the palm of his hand. It was grainy
and distorted because of the poor quality of the lens in the door, but
details such as the head and the two impressive balls, along with a general
idea of the shape of the thing, could easily be discerned.
	The other photo was actually from the same shot. This one was a
detail of his upper torso. In it could be seen three mounds of muscle
glowing with a sheen of sweat. His two pecs were like bowls mounted to his
chest, the cleavage between them deep and striated. Even in this fairly
relaxed position (she suspected he had been flexing a bit for her) they
were an impressive sight. The third formation was the bicep of his left arm
which had been holding his member in contemplation. The vein that ran
lengthwise across the crest of it could clearly be seen; its presence, in
fact, helped to accentuate the bulge of that magnificent muscle. Chris had
always had a fantasy which involved just such a bicep and she hoped she
would get a chance to act it out.
	She picked up these two photos, went to her bedroom and sat down on
the edge of her futon. She laid the photos on the floor before her and
spread her legs. The smell of her already needing cunt wafted up to her
nostrils, making her slightly dizzy with its potent aroma. Her finger
gently parted the lips of her vagina and made some tentative explorations
to the interior, bringing back a supply of delicious juices with each
return. These she spread on the area around her clitoris, being careful not
to actually touch the nub until she was ready. Every time her finger
entered, it caused her to swoon, the photos and room doing a bit of a
spin. Each foray into the inner reaches of her soft passage ventured a
little further until her finger was buried to the hilt. She stared at the
photo of the cock, longing to have that huge shaft slowly entering her, its
girth stretching her vaginal lips, the pressure enough to cause the inner
walls of her vagina to hum.
	Once she had produced enough lubricant she allowed her finger to
travel up to the area of her clitoris. She parted the fiery red pubic hairs
( yes, that was her natural color) and sought out her own center of
pleasure. Her clitoris was unusually large and actually became engorged
enough with blood when aroused to become erect and visible. She always felt
sorry for a woman who couldn't know the pleasure of having her clit sucked
fully into a man's mouth. Because it was so long it also received a great
deal of stimulation during regular sex. As the man thrust forward her clit
would bear the brunt of the attack, becoming more and more stimulated with
each thrust. This almost always guaranteed her an orgasm.
	Another side effect of its size was its susceptibility to everyday
pressures brought on by sitting, bike riding, walking, running, straddling
a large bicep and having it flex between her legs, its hot, blood-engorged
bulk constantly putting pressure on the extended nub. She stared at the
other photo and imagined the arm bending and flexing as it curled a weight,
causing the bicep to pump up to an incredible size, its peak pressing up on
her cunt. The muscle would rise and fall with each repetition of the
exercise, each time becoming more engorged and burning hotter and
hotter. Her cunt would begin to heat up and she would ride the muscle and
sway back and forth on it, like a child on a rocking horse. She imagined
him standing while he did this to her, his upper arm parallel to the floor,
his gigantic deltoid quivering and swelling with the effort of supporting
her weight. She would look down over the top of his head, for she would be
sitting astride his arm facing him, and see those mountains of flesh, his
spectacular pectorals. She would run her hand down over them and find the
nipple at the belly of the muscle where it curves under, forming a ledge as
it protrudes out over the abdomen.
	The nipple is hard and tender as she tweaks and twists it. Below is
the sight of his massive cock, growing longer and painfully rigid as he
becomes turned on by the smell of her juices flowing down around his upper
arm, by his nipple being stimulated, by the burning of his bicep as it
works through rep after rep of the exercise, bringing her closer and closer
to an orgasm.
	She starts to moan and the moaning turns him on even more. His cock
grows bigger until it sticks straight out from his lower abdomen. It
becomes huge, dark and thick. As she nears her climax he uses his other
hand to slide up and down his huge tool, encouraging it to join her in a
joint cum. His bicep is now so pumped up that its peak is actually entering
her vagina and stimulating the inner passage. He flexes the muscle one more
time and leaves it so that she can rock back and forth on it. Her clitoris
begins to hum and her juices start to flow as though someone has turned on
a faucet. She looks down and sees that his other hand is pumping his cock
faster and faster. The cock has turned a deep scarlet and the head has
expanded to twice its tumescent state. She is crying out now, willing the
climax to come. Her cries stimulate him and he starts to moan. As they both
reach their moment their shouts of ecstasy mingle and become a soaring
sound of joy and release. Suddenly her clitoris shoots a flash of
quicksilver through her cunt. She explodes with the force of the
orgasm. Bolt after bolt of energy rocks her body, shaking her to the very
center of her being. His own climax is achieved and he ejaculates, shooting
huge, thick streams of cum across the room. Shot after shot of sperm
rockets out of the end of his cock; his orgasm seems to go on for
minutes. When they are both done he gently sets her down and she kneels in
front of him, taking his huge shaft into her mouth, sucking the last drops
of cum from the depths of his balls. His cock responds by growing thicker
again and he fucks her for the rest of the night.
	Chris fell back onto the bed as the last vibrations of her orgasm
washed over her. "Yep," she thought, " that's just the way it ought to go."
	She went into the bathroom and grabbed a small hand towel to mop up
with. She couldn't remember being this wet from masturbating in a long
time. Especially as this was the second time in such a short while. The
photos and the man, himself, really turned her on. The amazing thing was,
of all the fantasy lovers she ever had, none could compare with the reality
of the hunk (Name, damn it. What's your name, stud?) next door.
	After she finished cleaning up she decided to go out onto the
balcony to grab a little fresh air. The sliding door had been left open to
allow the sea breeze to ventilate the apartment. As she stepped through to
the outside she caught a glimpse of something on the other side of the
divider which separated her balcony area from his. She cautiously moved so
she could see through the gap between the metal frame and the
wall. Flesh. Lots of flesh. Completely naked, he stood there looking out to
sea. She was certain now that he had indeed been posing for her because his
demeanor here on the balcony was completely different. She could tell he
was utterly confident about his privacy. Not wanting to ruin that
confidence she stood very still, taking in the gorgeous sight of his
completely naked body. His muscles were now relaxed, but even then they
projected an incredible aura of strength. His light brown hair stirred in
the breeze and his body tensed a bit as a chill ran through him. She could
see the profile of his beautiful pectoral, its nipple hardening as it
caught the breeze. He stretched and threw his arms up and open, his back
momentarily convulsing into a mass of knotted muscles. As soon as he
dropped his arms its vast surface again became relaxed and calm, giving no
clue, other than its hugeness, to the power that lay beneath. She hoped he
wouldn't turn towards her as he left, on the chance that he might see her,
although she would have loved to see that magnificent cock of his in its
natural state.
	After several minutes of quiet contemplation he turned away from
her and headed back inside. She knew that of all the things in life she had
ever wanted, nothing surpassed her desire to have that huge prick between
her legs, pumping cum into her cunt, before the end of the day.