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

Chapter 23: Patty

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

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

	The moment Arnold left the gym she crooked her finger at Peter,
indicating that she wanted to see him in the office. She could tell Peter
was totally at a loss as to how to deal with what had just happened and she
wanted to set the record straight on a few things before they got out of
hand. Patty hoped she could handle this calmly and with some sense of
perspective, but her feelings about these two men seemed determined to
screw her head around so only her emotions were left to control the
situation. This she definitely did not want.
	Peter followed her into the office. Patty sat at the chair behind
the desk and indicated that Peter should sit in one of the chairs on the
other side. When he was situated she looked him straight in the eye, trying
to plumb his feelings, his thoughts, his emotions. He stared right back at
her with a confidence that spoke of growth and an awakening to a more
well-defined sense of himself. It was surprisingly unpretentious, not the
least bit cocky. Patty chose her words carefully, attempting to make them
as non-confrontational as possible. No one had any rights to any one here,
although the temptation to get possessive was almost uncontrollable.
	"So, what do you think of him?"
	This was obviously a lot further along in the conversation than
Peter had imagined they would start. It took him a few moments to shift his
gears. His brow knotted up in thought and he bit his lower lip, giving him
an almost child-like quality that tugged at Patty's heartstrings.
	Patty smiled. If the little shit was doing that on purpose she'd
string him up by the balls.
	After a moment's contemplation, Peter's expression relaxed.
	"He seems like the most special person I've ever met. It's like he
can see inside. To the real part of me."
	Patty was equally thrown off base. She had assumed his first
thoughts would be along the physical. Arnold had apparently affected him as
much as he had her.
	"He had a lot of good things to say about you, too. I wonder how
much of that had to do with your interest in him."
	A cloud came over Peter's face and it looked as though he might
want to slug Patty. Only an intense inner control kept his physical urges
at bay. Patty tensed, waited for the storm to pass, and wondered what it
was she had said that he had taken such offense at. She found herself
unable to fathom her crime.
	"What?" she asked in response to his drilling stare.
	"What do you mean, 'What?'"
	"I mean: 'What are you so upset about?'"
	"I can't believe you really think he said those things about me
just because I think he's beautiful."
	"Well?"
	"Didn't you see it?"
	"I don't know if I understand you."
	"The way he listened. The way he watched. The way he talked and
asked and took it all in. Shit, Patty. Even I could see what was going
on. The man's into everything. Not just weights but the people, the place,
the plants. You. Me."
	Patty's eyebrows shot up at that.
	"Yeah, that's right, Patty. Both of us. Can't you tell how much he
wants you?"
	Patty's jaw fell open.
	"Christ, Patty. I could smell his need for you a mile away. If
you'll excuse my being blunt, he wants to fuck you in the worst way
possible."
	Patty's cunt began to buzz. Her legs scissored open and
closed. Peter watched her and smiled. There was something else he knew that
was going to blow her away even more.
	"He also wants me."
	Patty froze. How could this boy know so much about what had
happened here. He was just the kid, right?
	"He wants everyone. I bet that if one of the politicos had asked
him to go home with him right then he would have jumped at the chance. Not
because he's horny, but because he wants to know them. Really know
them. Just like he really wants to know you." He paused, the smug grin
creeping onto his face again. "And me."
	Patty was dumbfounded. This was not turning out at all as she had
imagined it. This was going to be Aunt Patty giving the little boy a pep
talk about not letting his gonads run away with his heart. Instead the
tables were turned. She drove down an immediate urge to get defensive and
tried to listen to what this youth was saying. He had been so open to what
Arnold was putting out, so affected by the man's presence, that he had
compiled information which Patty's jealousy-clogged brain had not been able
to process.
	"Jeez, Patty. For a grown-up you sure are dumb." The look on his
face said he understood her confusion and that he was only kidding.
	"Peter, I'm sorry. I got so defensive about Arnold I forgot that
you're a person, too. In fact, I think a lot of us around here have
forgotten that. I'm glad that Arnold came in today. I think he's helped us
all here." She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She still
hadn't covered the point she originally had intended to. "What about
Arnold? How do you feel about him?"
	There was no question, no pause, no need to consider any
alternative answers. "I want him to be my first."
	Well, there it was. She'd asked the question and gotten the most
truthful, straightforward answer she could never have hoped for.
	"Where does that leave me?"
	"Leave you where?"
	"You said you knew Arnold wanted me. Is there room for me in this
whole thing?"
	Peter was very obviously getting pissed-off at Patty. Again
	"Aw, fuckin'-A, Patty. You don't see shit, do you? It has nothing
to do with me. It's you and Arnold. Me and Arnold. Whoever Arnold's fucking
right now and Arnold. You don't keep Arnold, marry Arnold, own him. I think
even the word 'share' isn't right. Arnold's just Arnold. He's with whoever
he's with. You, me, everyone. I think he likes me because of something
about himself. I think he likes you because you've got a great personality
and make your own clothes."
	Patty picked up the appointment book laying on the desk and threw
it at him.
	"Come on, Patty. Look at you. He wants to fuck you because you're
hot. Real hot. Christ. You even turn me on sometimes."
	Patty leaned back in the chair and let her fantasy with Peter play
again in her head. It became overlaid with the memory of Arnold's huge cock
laying in her hand, its heat and heft sending shivers through her vagina.
	Peter astounded her again with his insight.
	"You've seen it. Haven't you?"
	She looked at him, trying to decide whether to share her secret
with him. He was on the edge of the chair, a look of pleading in his eyes,
husky desire in his voice. She nodded.
	"Tell me. Tell me, dammit. I gotta know."
	"Eleven-and-a-half."
	"You measured it?"
	"He told me."
	"You asked?"
	"Kind of."
	He was getting impatient with her cryptic responses. She decided to
tell him about her encounters with him earlier that day. She even revealed
her secret about leaving the gym bag on purpose. As she described his
actions, his dress, his words, his attitude, Peter became more
agitated. She noticed he was getting a huge hard-on. The fact that she was
equally as stimulated by the memory of that morning was not helping at
all. Finally she even told him the details about her fantasy of him.
	Peter listened intently. As she neared the completion of her story
his hand drifted to the shaft of his cock and he unconsciously began to
stroke it. She had no idea if he was doing it on purpose, but it was making
her hot just watching him.
	She turned the chair to face him directly and motioned him to come
to her. He hesitated a second, but he could not, in the end, resist. He
apparently hadn't been lying when he said she turned him on. There didn't
seem to be an interest in actually having sex with her as much as just
being able to feel her body, enjoy her muscles, her skin, her smell, and to
have her enjoy him. He had to know she had been eyeing him recently and was
proud of the fact that he interested her. Now was the time to satisfy that
interest. He stood and walked the few steps to her, taking up position in
front of her.
	Patty was breathing heavily with desire before he even left the
chair. The fantasy that afternoon had been so vivid, reinforced by Peter's
uncannily familiar reactions when Arnold had arrived. This was as though
the fantasy had come alive. She was about to live it in the flesh.
	She reached out to him and placed the palm of her hand on his
crotch. The shaft of his cock was hard, pressing out against the restraint
of his jockstrap. She felt the heat of it. Her vagina quivered. Peter stood
there for a second and then turned away to the window and looked out to the
floor for a moment. She had no idea what thoughts were going through his
mind, but he finally reached out and took the control string for the blinds
and lowered them slowly. He walked to the other end of the window and
twirled the plastic rod, the slats of the blind closing down, shutting out
the world. Next he went to the door and pushed the button in the
knob. Patty realized he was acting out a script. This was as much a
fantasy, relived, for him as it was for her. She thought it would be
interesting to see how he had played this in his mind. She let him take
control.
	Peter turned back to her, his hand lingering on the door knob. He
waited. His eyes traveled up and down Patty's body, drinking in every
inch. Suddenly Patty got the feeling that her clothes were in the way. She
found herself pulling her tops up over her head and discarding them in the
corner. Then she pulled down her sweat pants and threw them away, as
well. She was left in her halter top, Spandex pants, shoes and socks.
	Peter's gaze went to her feet and she reached down to remove her
shoes. When she pulled her socks off and was about to toss them away as
well he slowly shook his head. What did he want? The socks? She threw them
to him. He caught them in one hand and slowly raised them to his face. He
pressed them against his nose and breathed very deeply. His hips made
several involuntary movements and his cock grew noticeably larger.
	Patty moaned. She would do the same thing with her lover's
clothing. The more potent the smell, the better.
	Peter dropped the socks and again turned his attention towards
Patty. He stared at her legs. Obviously the Spandex was next on the
agenda. She slipped them down over her muscular legs and threw them to
him. He batted them away as though insignificant. He was after bigger
game. He stared directly at her crotch, his eyes caressing her finely toned
thighs with an almost palpable touch.
	Patty's cunt was going critical. She slipped her thumbs under the
waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs with excruciating
slowness. She noted that the closer she got to her feet the faster Peter's
breathing became. Finally, he could stand it no longer and, in one
incredibly rapid movement, covered the distance between them and ripped the
underwear from her legs, pressing it to his face. He breathed in and his
cock grew to its full size, jutting proudly out in front of his crotch.
	Patty's eyebrows raised. She had obviously underestimated him in
her fantasy. She spread her legs to allow the heat there to dissipate. She
was getting very hot. She also wanted to see what he had to offer. When
Peter's eyes next moved to her, demanding the removal of her top, she
established her own counter-demand with her gaze, telling him he owed her
several pieces of clothing. He reciprocated by tossing his sweatshirt and
undershirt at her. They both were filled with the odor of his efforts in
the gym. It was a smell that drove her wild: Body, sweat, dirt, deodorant,
soap, hair, Peter.
	When she lowered the clothing away from her face she saw he had
kicked off his shoes and socks and had removed his sweat pants. He wore
nothing but his jockstrap and a lustful look that devoured her. Another
moan slipped from her throat. She could stand it no longer. In one quick
motion she pulled her halter up over her head, stood up, threw the article
of clothing into the pile with the rest, and presented her body to him for
his inspection. She flexed. She posed, she ran her hands over her breasts
and down to her crotch, up her sides and back to her breasts, squeezing
them, milking them, urging her nipples to become painfully erect.
	Peter was dumbfounded. He watched as Patty went through her routine
as though it weren't real. He had several urges at once which Patty could
plainly determine. He was confounded by indecision. Finally she made up his
mind for him. She moved to him, took his hands and pressed them powerfully
to her breasts. He suddenly became a frenzy of activity. His hands and
mouth were all over her, licking, tasting, touching, fondling, stimulating
every inch of her body. Occasionally his finger would stray down between
her legs and send a jolt up along her spine. There was little doubt he had
at least a little experience with a woman's body.
	Patty let herself go to the incredible feeling of his intense
explorations. It was rare that a man, or woman, would be so enthralled with
just the feel of her. She flexed, she thrust, she squeezed, she pumped as
his hands came in contact with various parts of her anatomy.
	He also was doing a bit of thrusting of his own. He wasn't actually
pumping against her. It was more like thrusting his pelvis just to
thrust. Occasionally his cock would brush against her leg and the hardness
of it would remind her of his level of desire. She wondered what he would
need to satisfy himself. There was little doubt as to what Patty wanted,
but she was not going to risk screwing up this experience for him just to
get a cock between her legs. She waited as long as she could stand it
before finally deciding to give this grope thing a little direction.
	As Peter's activities had increased, so had the level of his body
odor. He became sweaty and the smell permeated the air, driving Patty
crazy. She knew where the source of the best of those odors was and she
wanted it. She grabbed his jockstrap and pulled it down to the
floor. Peter, momentarily stunned, simply stepped out and let Patty take
it.
	This is what she had been waiting for. The gold mine of body
odors. Nothing turned her on like the smell of sweaty cock. Especially
sweaty cock, supplemented with a dose of seminal fluids. His cock seemed to
be leaking a nice amount and the jockstrap was ripe with Peter's musky
man-scent. She rubbed it around her face and then down between her breasts,
across her hard, rippling abdomen and then into her crotch where she wiped
her own juices onto it.
	 Peter stood transfixed as she covered herself with his smell. He
seemed to be unable to deal with her actions on any level except one of
pure desire. She took the jockstrap that was now covered with the smell of
her cunt and pressed it to his face. He dove into it as though his first
meal in weeks was contained within. He drew in huge breaths, his finely
developed chest expanding and contracting as he hyperventilated. It was as
though he was trying to make himself pass out. Finally he pushed the
clothing away and just stood there, naked, in the middle of the room,
swaying back and forth in a dream state, his wonderfully hard cock becoming
darker and more dangerous looking by the moment.
	Patty watched the cock, desire dripping between her legs. She
reached her hand towards it and gently brushed the head with one
finger. His whole body contracted as though someone had punched him in the
stomach. His eyes flew open and he stared at her with a look that combined
two diametrically opposed emotions: unbridled fear and uncontrollable
lust. He was torn. Her eyes tried to discover what thoughts were lurking
behind his confusion; tried to locate the cause of his consternation so she
could ease his fears. Was it something to do with her earlier fantasy? A
fear that he might be forsaking his decision regarding his own sexuality?
She stood back and let him take his own lead.
	The fear subsided and lust, once again, emerged victorious. He
began to slowly flex his muscles, churn his pelvis. She joined
him. Although they were several feet apart they began a movement that took
on the feeling of joined sex. After several moments Patty's hand reached
for her clitoris and began to manipulate it, her juices flowing down over
her hand. She followed his lead and flexed and posed herself, acting as a
mirror to his own motions. He obviously needed her as a stimulus but not as
a tool.
	Their actions became more and more lascivious, more overtly sexual
until they were so hot the air became charged with their need for
release. Peter again moved to her and began running his hands over her
incredible body. Each time she flexed a muscle his hands or lips of some
part of his body was there to enjoy its tension, its fullness, its
power. His cock toyed with her hip, her ass, her crotch, but never made any
decisive contact. Patty wondered how long either he or she could keep this
up before they would explode. She was getting very hot, herself, and needed
some form of release soon. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to be reveling
in the agony of his withheld climax, the pain of his ecstasy written in
delicious anguish all over his writhing, pulsating body.
	It got to the point were Patty could stand it no longer. Her voice
was husky with desire.
	"Peter. You'd better let me know where this is all going, because
I'm getting mighty horny here. What's up?"
	"Feels great, doesn't it?"
	"Fuck you, stud. If your cock is hurting half as much as my clit,
then I don't see how you're holding off."
	"Just think about not being able to cum at all."
	Patty stopped dead in her tracks. Did this mean what she thought it
did? She could find no other way than to be perfectly blunt.
	"What do you mean? You can't cum?"
	"Yup."
	"You gotta be kidding me." He brushed his rock hard cock against
her thigh a few more times. "Stop for a second, will ya? We need to talk."
	Peter slowly came down from whatever plateau of pleasure/pain he
had achieved, his hips gradually ceasing their thrustings against her
thigh, his hands becoming less inquisitive, less insistent. He lowered his
gaze to her and smiled with a look of resignation to the inevitability of
his fate.
	"There's nothing to discuss. I can't cum. Never have. I drip. I
drool a lot, but the big one isn't mine for the
having. Nada. Zip. Diddley-squat. No way, Josˇ."
	The news devastated Patty. She couldn't stand it. Here was this
wonderful, sensitive boy who had dealt with enough shit in his sex life
already. Now, to learn that he couldn't even reach a climax... Shit, life
sucked sometimes. She couldn't help herself. She began to cry.
	"Hey. Patty. Yo. Look at me, huh? I'm the one who's not popping his
cork. What's up?"
	Patty looked up at him and took his face in her hands. She couldn't
put into words, exactly, why the news was so upsetting to her without it
sounding either patronizing or selfish. She just had a hard time dealing
with the injustices of the world sometimes and, considering her highly
emotional state, it was no wonder that she took it so badly.
	"I need you to cum," she said.
	"What do you mean?"
	"I mean it's important to me for you to get off on this. I'm not
just doing this for myself. I wanted you to join me here. I was thinking of
this as a celebration of some sort. You certainly reached a new point in
your life today and this is sort of like the birthday boy not being able to
blow out the candles or something."
	Peter laughed heartily. "I've never heard it put that way. But
that's right. I can draw the breath, but nothing comes out. In the end the
candles just have to die out on their own."
	The image of this staggered Patty. Peter had obviously come to
terms with his malady and was able to express his feelings about it in a
less than venomous manner. There was almost a tragic heroism about his
attitude, as though it were a cross willingly borne in atonement for some
past wrong.
	In the mean time, Peter had gleaned Patty's own form of distress
and began to fondle and caress her body again. Patty tried to concentrate
on her feelings for Peter's plight but soon his attentions lulled her away
from the misfortunes of the world. His hands worked closer and closer to
her cunt until his finger was sliding in and out of her lips, spreading the
hot wetness up across her clitoris. Each pass of his hand brought another
shudder of delight and soon she was vibrating on that delicious knife edge
between sexual tension and orgasmic release.
	He held her in that state for several moments with an uncanny
mastery as he continued to kiss and taste and feel the muscles of her
body. Each time she started to go over the edge he would change his pattern
or distract her in some way causing her to drop down just below the
threshold again. He did this several times, but instead of feeling like
frustration, it now became a slow, wonderfully agonizing climb towards some
peak which seemed to get higher and higher.
	Her moans became louder, her thrusting hips became more energetic,
her mouth sought out his body and sucked and kissed and licked and bit his
muscles as they strained to control her passions. In the back of her mind
there grew a deep appreciation for his ability to steer her and sense her
level of excitement. He was playing her like a pinball game or
something. Or like a fish with a lure. The fish chased the bait, but the
fisherman kept the fish wanting until it could no longer control itself, at
which point it would hopelessly hook itself.
	She suddenly saw the peak to which she was aiming, or was being
aimed. An orgasm of such a deliciously violent nature began to erupt within
her that she feared for her grasp on reality. Peter's fingers and hands
played her higher and higher, letting her go for the top.
	"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, Peter, oh, don't stop. Oh, don't stop, you
fuck. Oh, my God. What're you doing to me? Oh, shit. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh,
yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.. Unh. Unh. Anh. Enh. Inh. Hooo. Hooo. Oh, help. Oh,
God. Help. Yes. Yes. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. I'm cumming. Don't stop. I'm
cumming. Cumming. Ah. Ah. Ah. Aaahhhhhhhhh."
	Her body convulsed in great, sobbing waves of orgasmic release as
she sunk to the floor still impaled on Peter's probing, driving
digit. Every particle of her body vibrated as he continued to knead and
press her writhing, flexing, muscular body. Her nerve-endings were worn raw
and each breath of wind, each touch of his hand, each lick of his tongue
overloaded her senses and sent her spinning down a black hole that seemed
to be filled with stars and comets and unseen heavenly bodies whose
powerful gravity pulled at her psyche and contorted her perceptions.
	She lay on the floor and shook and convulsed for several more
moments as Peter stood over her, his still rock hard dick throbbing visibly
and dripping profusely. When the last, lingering rushes of her climax
finally subsided she opened her eyes to see this man standing over her with
a huge hard-on and a smile of contentment on his face. She reached up and
tried to touch his rod once more but he pulled away. She tried to tell him
that she needed to be held, to be touched, to be cradled, anything to bring
her back to reality, but his phobias about his cock, whatever they were,
could not allow him that intimacy.
	"Hold me, Peter. Please."
	He knelt beside her. "Okay. Just don't touch my cock, okay?"
	"Hold me."
	He pulled her up to her feet and embraced her, wrapping him in his
powerful arms as she did him.
	"Never, never, never in my life have I had such an orgasm. Where
did you learn that?"
	"A girl I met earlier this year. She was working at another gym. We
tried to solve my "problem" but I couldn't get into sex with a woman. She
showed me how I could work a woman up like that. That was back when I still
was trying to be straight. I guess neither of us realized what the real
problem was."
	"Do you think you could cum with a man?"
	"Shit, Patty. I hope so. If not, then I'm going to have the whole
fucking thing cut off."
	"Are you thinking that Arnold might be the one?"
	"He's the one. I know."
	"I'm having dinner with him tomorrow night. You want me to talk to
him about this?"
	"Nope. This is be between him and me. Either he'll want to or
not. Keep out of this, okay?"
	"I promise. But if he asks about you I'm not going to lie. I'll
just tell him he has to talk to you, okay?"
	"Thanks, Patty. Besides, I'll probably see him tomorrow when he
comes to workout."
	They held each other quietly for a few more moments and then Patty
took his face in her hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. Peter's
hands again sought out her muscular back and arms and finally came to dwell
on her magnificent breasts. This time there was a dreamy, lazy quality to
his explorations. He slowly worried her nipples into an erect state until
she thought they would explode. She couldn't stop him. No matter that she
had just been completely devastated by her last orgasm, she seemed to be on
the verge of another, more gentle one.
	He pulled and tugged at the nipples with his fingers and teeth and
then, just when she felt she couldn't stand it any more he drove his finger
once again towards her clitoris. Immediately she released a long,
shuddering cry and the flood gates of her vagina and soul opened again,
pouring their essences out to this boy who knew her secret keys like no man
had before. The orgasm was soft, smooth, soothing. It relaxed and released
her from the final tensions of her emotional roller coaster ride. She found
her physical and emotional strength returning and by the time the last of
her climactic tide had ebbed she was her old sassy self again.
	"Thank you, Peter. That was positively delicious. But if you ever
do that to me again without warning me I'll suck your dick so hard you'll
wish it would fall off. Okay?"
	"Promises, promises."
	"What's the secret? What did that woman tell you? I'm a girl and I
don't know how to do that."
	"She taught me a very important lesson. Two actually. The first was
to pay attention to the details. She said that the slower you go, the more
you see. The second thing was to pay attention to the other person. No one
can tell you how their feeling better than the person who's doing the
feeling."
	"A wise woman. Is she still around?"
	"Last I knew, she was. I had to get away from her, though. She was
too intense for me. I couldn't make it with her and she couldn't figure out
why. Hell. I couldn't figure out why. But she was a wonderful, kind
woman. Reminds me a lot of Arnold. That same openness. I can't figure out
why she couldn't see my problem with women. She seemed able to figure out
everything else."
	"Maybe she was too much in love with you."
	Peter stopped cold. The thought of someone loving him that much had
never occurred to him. Suddenly he was pulled in two different directions
again. His face broke into a huge grin and tears began pouring down his
cheeks. The agony and the ecstasy of it all was too much. Now it was his
turn to need the hugs.
	Patty drew him to her and cradled his head on her shoulder. All
this was just a bit more emotion than she was used to in a single day. This
was all Arnold's fault, she thought. Everything seemed to be just fine
until he went and casually dropped his eleven-and-a-half inch dick into her
hand. Ever since that moment her life, and the life of this poor,
frustrated young man, had been thrown into turmoil. She couldn't wait until
tomorrow to give him a piece of her mind.
	And ass.
	Peter got his emotions back in check.
	"I want to be Arnold's workout partner."
	"What's everyone else going to do? You've got quite a clientele
here."
	"Oh, I'll still work with them. I just want Arnold to help
me. Besides, between the two of us, we can keep one of the big gyms from
ripping him off."
	Patty started to laugh at the thought of Arnold's decision resting
on Peter's involvement. She caught herself and instantly saw how she was
slipping into her old way of thinking about "the kid".
	"I'm certain that, between your offer and what I intend to do to
that cock of his tomorrow night, he won't be able to think straight enough
to find another gym, even in this town."
	"Ah, Patty. About tomorrow night."
	"Yeah?"
	Peter looked her straight in the eye. He was absolutely serious,
without any feeling of possession or jealousy when he said, "Save some of
that for me, okay?"
	Patty didn't know if he meant Arnold's cock or her own body. She
hoped it was both.