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

Chapter 39: Arnold

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

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

	If this day were to be remembered for nothing else, and the
possibility of that happening were as close to nil as made no difference,
it would have to be how filled it had been with great blow-jobs. First, in
his old kitchen, then in the truck (was that one or two?), and now on the
balcony of his new apartment, perched over the crashing waves of the sea
with his tongue vibrating back and forth across Chris's magnificent clit.
	He could tell it had been her first time taking a man that deep
into her throat, but the fact that she had accomplished it at all, and that
it had been so very good, made the event even more special.
	And he had been so hot. So turned on, though he thought he was
reaching the limits of his sexual output for the evening. But this
wonderful, beautiful, bright, sexy woman seemed to be able to push all the
right buttons. Even as he cranked down on the rusty bolts that held the now
obsolete divider in place he longed to channel that energy into another
sexual encounter. It had been a long time since he had been so driven
towards one person. There was, of course, always the drive, but in the back
of his head he had carried the thought of saving it up to share with
everyone. Suddenly he was thinking, not of who the next encounter would be
with, but how soon he would be able to recover so that he could merge his
libido with the wonderful woman he now heard spraying lubricant on the
bolts of Patty's divider. His huge cock began to ache once again with
desire. She understood. He desired her even more.
	When he turned around he was met with the glorious sight of her
firm, round ass pointing right at him. She was bent over at the waist,
knees straight, spraying the bolts along the bottom of the frame. If he
could have mustered up another erection just then he would have been over
there in an instant, his huge cock finding its target, slowly sliding
inside her, his arms bulging as he grabbed the sides of that luscious ass
and pressed his crotch forward, feeling the warmth of her hot, moist cunt
envelop his erection and inviting him, urging him, forcing him to drive
deep inside her, his balls immediately churning, the length of his cock
humming with sensation, his head spinning with lust.
	She finished spraying and turned towards him, wiping her hands on a
cloth he had provided for the purpose. Her nipples were hard, her breasts
calling out to him. He wanted to kiss them, lick them, bite and nip at
them. He wanted to feel them fill his hands as he pressed his palms into
them, her moans of desire once more singing through the air like deep
indigo crushed velvet.
	Smolder
	Smoke
	Burn
	Fire
	Hot
	His lust was an inferno.
	She saw him looking at her and a smile, bright enough to light the
most troubled soul, burst upon her face. He felt it brush across his body
like a fine lace curtain caught in the breeze, wrapping around him, smooth,
gentle, sensual, caressing his arms, legs, lightly touching his penis, his
pecs, his mind.
	Her eyes lowered to his. . . what? Hand? The screw-driver hung
loosely in his palm. When he looked down he noticed the two tools copied
each other in their relaxed state.
	He turned back to his efforts and, in a few minutes, removed the
final bolts. Getting the sheet of fiberglass out of the brackets that held
it was difficult. He finally had to climb back over the railing (for the
last time, he hoped) and had Chris push on of the edges towards him. It was
then a matter of bending, without breaking, and wriggling until the sheet
finally wormed its way free. He leaned it against the railing at the far
end of Chris's balcony. The frame had evidently been built around the
sheet; too bad it had then been welded to the railing.
	With the divider out of the way, Arnold stepped back through the
opening and lifted Chris in his arms and carried her "over the threshold"
into her apartment. The significance of this was not lost on her and tears
welled up in her eyes. He stopped in the middle of her living room and she
brought her hands to his face, petted and stroked his cheeks and then drew
her mouth to his. Their lips brushed together; wisps of sensation teased
his mind. The next pass brought the sensation of moist tongue gently wiping
across his lips. Again her mouth slipped seductively across his. He sought
her out, nodding and diving, chasing her elusive lips until he found his
target. He pressed hard against her and their mouths opened, swallowing
each other, drinking each other, tongues locked in immortal combat. His
hand sought out one of her breasts. As his palm wrapped around the
ambrosial mound, his ears were filled with a soft, rushing sigh. The nipple
pressed hard into his hand and she arched her back to increase the pressure
even more. He lifted her higher in his arms and then found the hard nub
with his mouth, licking, teasing, lightly nipping at it until she was
squirming in his arms, moaning and crying out with agonizing desire.
	Her own hand dove for her cunt and sought out the hard bud of flesh
he knew would be desperately calling to her. She cried out in
amazement. "Oh, God, I want you. So bad. I can't believe this. You make me
so hot. I'm so wet. So wet."
	"Have you ever been fucked with a three-day-old, overcooked
spaghetti noodle?"
	"Oh, shit. Right. I must admit that it's hard to believe that
you've run out of steam."
	"Only temporarily. I think my biggest problem is just a lack of
fuel."
	"What is it with you? I've never been like this. Ever since I saw
you this morning I've been doing nothing but having orgasms. I even had
some guy down on the beach pop me off while he was putting sunscreen on my
back."
	"Well, at the risk of being both obvious and immodest at the same
time, you evidently have very good taste in sexual fantasies. And speaking
of taste, my taste buds are about to wilt for lack of attention."
	"Here. Try this." She removed her hand from her crotch and brought
her moist finger to his mouth. The smell of her juices sent his head
spinning and he did, indeed, feel a huge surge in his cock. He sucked the
delicious digit deep into his mouth and savored the thick, heady flavor
which matched the wonderful odor it gave forth.
	Chris's other hand slid down off his shoulder, traced the side of
his chest and found its way down to the base of his cock, Arnold's huge
bicep held tight in the pit of her arm.
	"Aha. I knew you were not completely immune to my seduction."
	She pulled the leg closest to his body up to her chest and then
wrapped it around the other side of his thick, muscular torso. She then
reached behind her, grabbed his quickly stiffening cock and brought the
head of it up to meet her swollen cunt lips. Arnold raised her up to allow
her body to clear the end of his cock and held her there, her steamy
opening hovering just millimeters above the swollen head of his gigantic
erection. His biceps bulged immensely. Chris ran her free hand over the
huge mound of muscle. Again she moaned as memories ignited fires deep
within her. Still Arnold held her aloft. She began to squirm, trying to
force her way down onto his cock.
	"Down, please."
	There was no reaction. He held her there in his arms and in his
gaze.
	"Arnold. Please."
	He flicked out his tongue and teased one of her painfully erect
nipples.
	"Oh, God. Oh, please, Arnold. I want you in me so
badly. Please. Let me have your cock inside me."
	He transferred his attentions to her other breast, his tongue just
barely not touching the inflamed nipple that crowned it.
	"Dammit, Arnold. Give me your cock. Please."
	Her hand was rubbing the crown of his bicep, her fingernails
scratching the surface, tracing the thick artery that ran down its
length. Her other hand still held the head of his cock. She began to
squeeze and rub the thick, rubbery bulb of flesh. He groaned. She
smiled. She ran her fingernails up and down the back of the shaft. His
attentions to her breast increased. Her nails dug harder into both his cock
and bicep. Slowly he lowered her until he could feel the weight of her body
come to bear on his thick cock.
	"Oh yes. Please. Yes. In me. Please."
	He lowered her onto him.
	"Oh. Yes. So big. So big. Yes. God, you're so hard. So hard
again. So big. More. More. Oh, your arms. So strong. So hot. Make them
work. I want to feel your arms work. Lift me. Oh yes. So
big. Again. Oh. Again. Yessssssss. Oh, my God. Deep. So deep. Oh, this
feels so good. So fucking good. God, you're good. Now. Come
on. Faster. Faster. Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes. More. More
cock. More. Yes. Yes. Huh. Huh. Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes. That's it. Yes. Oh,
your arms. . . so big. Your cock. So big. So big. Oh. Now. Oh,
now. Yes. Yes. I'm cumming. So soon. So
big. Yes. Yesss. Yesssssss. Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Oh. . . Ooooooooh."
	Arnold felt the torrent of cum juice as it flowed out of her and
down the length of his cock. She was rocking herself back and forth,
pushing up on his shoulders and driving herself down onto the length of his
shaft. He was a long way from cumming, himself, and knew that he would
probably spend the rest of the evening with a painfully erect penis, but
her cries and pleadings rushed across his mind and he found great
satisfaction in Chris's release. And, besides, there was definitely
something to be said for the aesthetic qualities of a eleven-and-a-half
inch hard-on.
	Meanwhile, he was loving the feeling of the pump he was getting in
his biceps. The muscles filled with blood as he continued to lift Chris
high up on the length of his cock and then drive her down again, each drop
throwing her body into orgasmic convulsions. He loved it when they came. He
loved the feeling of their vaginal muscles clamping down on his thick
shaft, sliding up and down its length. This was paradise. His biceps
burning, his huge cock aching, his eyes drinking in the beautiful sight
before him.
	As he lowered Chris onto his cock again, he felt the tension
release from her body as the final wave of orgasm washed over her. He held
her there, his cock lodged deep within her. She again grasped his face in
her hands and showered hot, peppery kisses over him. Her enthusiasm filled
him with such joy. He hugged her to him in his powerful arms. Her breasts
pressed hard against his own massive chest. His hands dug deep into the
muscles of her back, kneading and massaging. They came up to the backs of
her neck muscles and began rubbing them. Chris melted in his arms.
	Now that he had her calmed down he made his way to her kitchen and
began opening the different cabinets, the drawers, the refrigerator, to see
what he had to work with. Still his cock was long and stiff, still deep
within her. She would occasionally tighten her muscles, sending a shot of
sexual energy zooming down his shaft and making his entire body shudder.
	"I don't think I'll be able to do much with you constantly
distracting me like that."
	"Oh, I see. Now I'm just a distraction."
	"When you start getting between me and my low blood sugar,
yes. Just remember, no fuel, no hard-on."
	"There's no way I'm going to let you get soft. I intend to keep you
hard until well into the night. Here. Let me down off this thing."
	She pushed herself up in his shoulders and pulled herself off his
cock. She then slid down his chest, pressing her body firmly against
his. As her feet touched the floor she continued down. His cock was pressed
between them and as it reached her breasts she clamped them together around
the thick shaft and let the head of it emerge from between them. It rose up
to her mouth and she flicked her tongue out across the head.
	"Oh, shit. Oooo, Chris, yeah. That feels good. So good. But I've
got to get some food in me. I'm starting to get real light headed."
	"And, of course, that has nothing to do with me, right?"
	"It has everything to do with you. If I didn't have your marvelous
distractions I would have eaten hours ago. How about you chop up some
vegetables for a salad, I'm going to hop into your shower for a second and
clean up. Then we'll see about a quick pasta and something? Okay?"
	"I knew it. I knew you'd find an excuse to get out of making
dinner."
	"You forget where this has been." He wiggled his index finger at
her."
	"Not only that, but a perfectly legitimate excuse as well."
	"The best kind. I promise I won't be but a couple of minutes. I
also have to figure out how to take a leak with this erection."
	"Problem, huh?"
	"Yup. Constant and ever-present."
	"Arnold?"
	"Yes, Chris?"
	"Can I ask a favor?"
	"Sure."
	"Well, it's just that. . . I've never watched a man. . . you know."
	"This is really appetizing."
	"Sorry. I don't know what got into me. It's just that you make me
feel so comfortable. Like anything is possible. I've had so many fantasies
fulfilled tonight, I just thought I'd give it a shot."
	"You really want to see me piss?"
	"Yeah. And. . ."
	"Go for it."
	"I want to hold it while you go."
	"Sure. Why not. I gotta admit, I'm kind of turned on by the idea,
myself."
	Chris grabbed Arnold's cock and led him to the bathroom. She lifted
the toilet seat and then brought Arnold over in front of the bowl. She
pressed firmly but gently down on the erect shaft until it was aimed
somewhat at the toilet. And waited. And waited. And waited.
	After a few moments she released her grip and looked up sheepishly
at Arnold who was looking down sheepishly at her.
	"I'd always heard it was difficult for a guy to take a leak while
someone was watching him."
	"That's part of it. The other part is this little valve inside that
closes off when we're getting ready to cum. It keeps things from backing up
the wrong tube, but it takes a while to relax, especially if everything
didn't get. . . ah, finished."
	"Does that mean you have to cum before you can take a leak?"
	"Probably not, but this may take a little while. Why don't I take a
shower and then we'll try it again, later."
	"Oh, no you don't. I know what'll happen. You'll crank on the cold
water and that's the last I'll see of that hard-on."
	"There is no way I'm going to get soft. You've got me so turned on
I can't even piss. Don't worry. Everything will be just like you left it. I
promise. Now go do the salad thing and I'll be out in a few minutes. If you
get in that shower with me there won't be anything left but a well-hung,
over-developed prune. Now scat."
	Arnold gave Chris a sharp smack on the butt.
	"Oooo." Chris stuck her ass back at Arnold, begging him to do that
again. Arnold hauled back his arm to let her have a real good one. Chris
braced herself for the impact. His huge arm came flying towards her, but at
the last minute, screeched to a halt and lightly touched her on the
cheek. He slowly traced the crack of her ass with his forefinger and then
ran it lightly up her spine. Her body quivered with the chill it sent. She
turned around and traced her fingernail down the length of his cock. He
quivered as well. She kissed him lightly on the lips and then returned to
the kitchen.
	Arnold released a huge sigh. He marveled at the thought of her. She
seemed to fit in all the right places, cried out to be filled in all the
ways he loved to fill a lover. He stroked the length of his cock, reliving
the memory of her nail lightly tracing its length. How could he still be
hard? And not just hard. His huge cock ached with rigidness. Hadn't he just
been deep inside her? Hadn't she just driven herself down hard on him, his
biceps bursting, his cock crying out for release, her hot vagina vibrating
and flooding with orgasm? And here he was, with a constant, raging hard-on
that was going to make his life deliciously uncomfortable for the
foreseeable future.
	Arnold was glad for the brief moment of privacy, though. He had
some serious thinking to do. He thought back to that moment on his balcony
a while ago when he had laid back on the cushion after having received the
wonderful blow-job that Chris had given him. He had been so filled with
joy, had felt so loved.
	And suddenly, out of nowhere, an image of Sam, running along the
beach, had burst into his mind. And he had missed her so much all those
years. But the vision that had raced across his closed eyelids had been as
vivid as anything he had ever experienced. And there was a confidence in
her that spoke to him. She knew he was here. She knew and she also knew he
would be hers again.
	His whole body suddenly felt like the moment he had seen her, those
many years ago, dressed in her workout clothes, his huge, painful erection
wrapped around his hip in the amazing outfit Mr. Ridell had bought for
him. She had known his distress, she had also known how much he desired
her, needed her, wanted her at that very moment. He'd had little idea,
himself; didn't know what it was that she could do for him. But she had
done it; had given herself; her energy, her life-force, her unconditional
love. And through that mutual trust and bond they had both grown more in
that one afternoon then most people do in a lifetime. They had filled each
other so well; completed what was unfinished in the other.
	And now she was back in his life again. How was he going to keep
his feelings about all this straight? Chris. Sam. Patty. Peter. All at the
same time. Was there enough of him to go around? Was there enough of each
of them to go around? For he knew the only way this was going to work was
if they all were able to join their energies together and form what would,
undoubtedly, become a most formidable union.
	He climbed into the shower, a mirror image of his own, save that it
sported a real live shower curtain, and got the water running at the right
temperature. He flipped the lever and the water rushed up the pipe in the
wall, pushing a column of air and some remnants of the last shower taken in
front of it. The shower head spit, fizzled and then sprayed his body with
sharp needles of water that dug into his hard muscles, tight skin. He
rummaged around in the shower caddie until he found some soap that didn't
look like it had a specific purpose and quickly soaped himself down.
	When he got to his waist it took all the will power he could muster
not to work his cock up into a lather. He did wash it a bit, running his
hands very cautiously and slowly up and down the length of it, trying very
hard not to generate too much interest. Then again, didn't he miss a spot
out there by the base of the head. It certainly felt like he did. And then
there were his heavy, bloated balls hanging down in his nice, loose
scrotum. They certainly needed to be cleaned. First the left one. Then the
right one. Did he do the left one? He couldn't remember. He'd better do it
again. Just to make sure. And the back of his scrotum, the part that always
rubbed up against his legs. Certainly that was in need of cleaning. And
then there was that spot out there by the base of the head. Had he gotten
that already? Maybe he should check it again, in case. . .
	"Aha. Just as I suspected. I knew I couldn't leave the two of you
alone for a second."
	"You scared the shit out of me."
	"Serves you right. Trying to pop yourself off without me."
	"I was only. . . Oh, what the hell. Yup. You caught me red
handed. What is my punishment to be, this time?"
	"Are you finished in there?"
	"Just about. Let me get my legs and feet and rinse off. I'll be out
in a second."
	Chris just stood there, the shower curtain pushed aside. The
wanting, longing look on her face told of her desire for his body.
	"I said I'll just be a second."
	"Go ahead. I can wait. The salad's not going to burn."
	Arnold chuckled and quickly finished soaping up the lower half of
his body, trying very hard not to come in contact with the huge erection
that swung out in front of him. It was difficult and Chris found his
predicament quite amusing. When he had rinsed all the soap off, paying
close attention to the area around his mid-section ("Well, I can't let soap
dry there. You know how itchy it can get") he turned off the water and
asked for a towel.
	Chris dug around in the small closet next to the tub and came up
with a big fluffy one that consumed a good part of his body. He began to
pat himself dry but Chris intervened. "Here. Let me do that." She took the
towel from him and dried him off. Her hands patted and rubbed every square
inch of his body. She polished the huge bulges of his muscles, teased his
nipples with the very corner of the towel, brushing back and forth across
them until they were achingly erect. She ran the edge of the towel back and
forth under the bulge of his pecs where they curved under and met his
abdomen. Arnold moaned. This was one of his most erotic places. He loved
the feeling of the juncture between the two masses of muscle and the flat,
taut expanse of his stomach. Chris rubbed again. Arnold squeezed his arms
to his sides and the pecs grew and expanded, the cleft between them
deepening, the peaks of the muscles reaching higher. She moved her mouth to
one of his pecs and bit into it with her teeth, taking in a
mouthful. Arnold felt an incredible surging in his loins that, given just a
few more seconds of stimulus, would have turned into a full blown
orgasm. Chris sensed this as well and stopped just seconds before he
reached his moment.
	Chris dropped the towel and began to devour his pecs as though they
were a woman's bosom. She fondled the masses of flesh, licked and nipped
the rock hard buds suspended from the lower curves of those massive,
muscular mounds.
	"They're so hard. So strong. I want to make love to your pecs. So
big."
	"You seem to be doing a pretty good job of it, right
now. Oooo. Yeah. Do that again."
	She grabbed both of his nipples and pinched them between the nails
of her thumb and middle finger. He stepped out of the tub and she pressed
her naked body against him, clasping his still-erect-and-becoming-more-so
penis between her legs. She slid up and down the length of it and he could
feel the heat of her sex on his blood-engorged shaft.
	"You're not making this at all easy on me, you know that."
	"That, my friend, is your punishment." She backed away from him,
turned around and then straddled his penis once again, this time facing
away from him. She then grabbed the considerable length of it which
extended out before her and walked over to the toilet.
	"I've always wanted to know what this was like. Can you pee?"
	"I'll try. Just be still and patient for a couple of minutes. I
have to clear my head." He tried to concentrate. "Stop that."
	She giggled. He took a couple of deep breaths and relaxed his
body. He tried to believe that it was his own hands that now had hold of
his cock. He thought about his bladder muscles, sore and extended. He
thought about the great need, desire, urgency of peeing. He relaxed his
sphincter muscles, which he realized were tensed, and suddenly the flow
began. He hoped that Chris would realize it. He let out a long, slow sigh
and sensed her readying herself.
	"Oh, my God. Look at that."
	He had no idea what she was referring to, but just continued to
keep his mind clear. He felt the muscles that controlled the flow
dangerously on the verge of clamping shut. Deep breaths, empty thoughts. He
felt her aiming the stream around various parts of the bowl, missing the
pool of water in the bottom so it wouldn't splash, holding it in one
position for a couple of seconds as though trying to wash an errant pubic
hair off the side. He smiled. Soon he was finished.
	"Now what do I do?"
	"Shake it."
	She wiggled her ass against his groin.
	"Not that, you silly person, my cock. You have to shake it to get
anything that's left out and into the toilet. Just don't do it too hard, or
you'll have to clean it up."
	She gently shook the shaft and he flexed the proper muscles and a
few more squirts and then a couple of drops came out.
	"Very good. Did you get the pubic hair?"
	"How did you know?"
	"You think we just stand there and let it happen. It's a very
satisfying thing to get all the foreign objects washed off before running
out of ammo."
	"It's very. . . controlling. Very powerful. Kind of makes me
jealous."
	"Just think of that the next time you're standing in the middle of
a room and you suddenly see someone who really turns you on. It can be
quite embarrassing and frustrating."
	"I love it when I make a guy get a hard-on. It's the only
guaranteed honest reaction you can get from a guy. Everything else can be
faked."
	"Tease."
	"Slut."
	"Sticks and stones. . ."
	"If the shoe fits. . ."
	"I'm really hungry. Let's get something, anything, on the table."
	Arnold grabbed Chris's shoulders and began to walk out of the
bathroom and towards the kitchen. Chris fell into step, the huge dick still
clasped between her legs and together they bellied up to the kitchen
counter. She had already put water on to boil for the pasta and there was a
huge bowl of salad on the table. Arnold reached into the basket that hung
above the sink and retrieved a head of garlic and an onion. He rummaged
through the spice rack and came up with a couple of ingredients and then
went to the fridge an dug out a pepper and some mushrooms.
	"You realize, of course, that we both have to eat this. That way we
can't tell whose bad breath we're smelling."
	"Looks good so far. Cook away."
	"Where's you iron skillet?"
	"Over there. You want me to dismount?"
	"You just stay right where you are. At the rate I'm going, here,
I'm looking forward to the arrival of an extra ingredient any moment."
	Chris's head dropped down and she looked at his cock protruding
from her crotch. It had really begun to ache and, although he couldn't see
it, he knew from the feel, as well as her reaction, that it looked
dangerously close to erupting.
	"I don't know if I'm up to mixing my metaphors here. Perhaps I'd
better stand aside, at least until you get things going here."
	"Suit yourself. I just thought you might be interested in. . ."
	"Never mind. Just cook."
	She pulled away from him and sat down at the table, absently
picking at the bowl of salad while she feasted her eyes on Arnold's
nakedness.
	Arnold busied himself with chopping, cutting and stirring. In
minutes he had a fry pan full of vegetables and oil and spices simmering
away. He washed his hands and went to the salad bowl. Chris's eyes locked
onto his continually rigid cock as he walked towards her. When he got close
enough to the table he swung his hips to the right and knocked the salad
bowl with his stiff member.
	"Oops, sorry. I guess I forgot it was there."
	"Yeah, right. And I'm. . . I'm"
	"You are the most wonderful, loving, sexy, bright, beautiful person
I've had the pleasure of making love to in many, many years. You make me
ache just to look at you."
	Chris was caught completely off-guard. She started to say
something, swallowed it, tried to speak again, and again the words were
choked in her throat. Again, tears welled up in her eyes. She stood and
wrapped her arms around Arnold's neck, drawing herself to him.
	Her warm, naked body pressed against him and he could feel a
churning in his groin, a churning in his mind, a churning in his
heart. Yes, he had loved, in different ways, every person he had ever had
sex with. But something here was different. Things seemed to be running a
little closer to the surface. And of course, there was the added
complication of Patty. And Peter. And Sam.
	Sam.
	He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did.
	Within the next forty-eight hours he and Sam were going to meet
again. And when they did, things were going to get very interesting around
here.
	Very interesting, indeed.