This is Normally Behind a Paywall
SMUT isn’t free. It’s raw. It’s paid content for a reason. But every now and then, we let one drip past the wall.
Don’t treat it like a freebie. Treat it like a leak.
He thought his body was a curse until the night he found the one part of her that could hold him. What began with worship on his tongue ended in a release that rewrote him. It was never just lust. It was the first proof that his hunger had a place in the world.
He had always known there was something wrong with him. Or maybe something too right.
The first time he pulled himself hard, it didn’t look like the other boys in the showers. His cock grew thick, vein-knotted, monstrous in a way that felt like a curse. Girls noticed, of course. One tried to stroke him, brave and curious, but when he pressed toward her she shook her head and pulled away. It’s too big. You’ll break me. Her voice carried shame that sank into his bones.
That night he decided: he would never push himself into a pussy. He would never tear someone open just to chase release. His gift would stay outside. But his hunger grew.
He was eighteen when it happened. A house party, cheap beer, cigarette smoke curling in the kitchen. Music pulsed. He sat awkwardly, long legs folded on a couch, trying not to notice how his cock stirred under denim every time a woman laughed.
And then he saw her. She wasn’t the skinniest, wasn’t the loudest, but her breasts commanded him. Round, heavy, pressed against her shirt in a way that made him ache. Double D’s, without question. The kind he had only seen in magazines and daydreams.
She caught him staring. Smirked. Walked over.
“You’re quiet,” she said, leaning down. Her tits hung like gifts in front of his face. He swallowed hard.
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“Wanna go somewhere quieter?”
He nodded before he could think, pulse hammering in his neck.
Her name didn’t matter. What mattered was the door closing behind them, the thud of music muffled, and the bed waiting. He stood frozen. She sat on the edge of the mattress, watching him with a calm, feline patience.
“Well?” she teased. “You gonna touch me, or just stare?”
He knelt instead. He couldn’t start with his cock. He knew his rule, his oath even then: mouth first, always.
Hands trembling, he slid them up her thighs, spreading them slowly. She gasped when his mouth pressed to her knee, soft kisses working upward, inner thigh, higher, higher still. Her scent grew stronger, salt and musk, making him dizzy. He paused only to mouth across her stomach, tongue tracing the curve of her hip, before he finally leaned down between her legs.
“Ohhh…” she sighed, arching.
He flattened his tongue against her slit, licking up once, slow and reverent. Then again, firmer, his nose nudging into the heat of her folds. His cock pulsed painfully in his jeans, but he ignored it. She opened wider for him, hands gripping his hair.
“That’s it,” she whispered.
He circled her clit with his tongue, then sucked it into his mouth, gentle but steady. She moaned louder, rocking against him. He pushed his tongue deeper, sliding inside her, thrusting with wet insistence. The taste flooded him, raw, slick, perfect.
Her cries built. She shook, thighs closing around his head as she came hard against his mouth. He stayed there, swallowing her, tongue never stopping, drinking every spasm.
When she finally sagged back on the bed, breathless, he kissed her clit once more like a benediction.
“Fuck,” she laughed softly, brushing his hair back. “You’re… good at that. For a virgin.”
He froze. “How did you know—”
“You’ve got the hunger,” she said simply. “I can tell.”
He blushed, eyes dropping.
“Show me,” she ordered.
“What?”
“Your cock. Show me.”
Panic stabbed him. He had hidden it so carefully all these years. He shook his head.
“Come on,” she coaxed. “After how you just made me cum? You owe me a look.”
His hands fumbled at his belt. Jeans sagged. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, slapping against his stomach. Her gasp filled the room.
“Jesus Christ.” She leaned closer, eyes wide. “That’s… no one can take that inside them.”
“I know.” His voice was hoarse, ashamed.
But then she smiled. “Good thing I don’t have to use my pussy.”
She stripped off her shirt and bra. Her tits spilled free, heavy and perfect, nipples already hard. He groaned at the sight, cock jerking like it might explode untouched.
“Lie back,” she commanded.
He obeyed, heart thundering. She climbed on top of him, spitting into her cleavage, slicking her tits with her own saliva. She lowered them around his shaft.
“God…” he moaned as warmth enveloped him.
Her Double D’s pressed together, wrapping his girth as best they could. He barely fit, the head sticking out the top, gleaming with precum. She squeezed tighter, sliding up and down, her tits milking him.
“Fuck, look at you,” she teased, tongue flicking his crown each time it appeared.
He bucked upward helplessly, lost in the rhythm. Her breasts jiggled, reddening from the friction, spit and precum slicking everything. The sound was obscene, wet slaps, her gasps, his groans.
“You like my tits, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he choked. “Yes, please, don’t stop.”
He felt it building, unstoppable.
“I’m close,” he gasped.
She pressed harder, squeezing with all her strength, jacking his cock between her breasts.
“Cum for me,” she demanded.
With a strangled cry, he erupted. Thick ropes of cum blasted across her chest, her throat, her face. She laughed breathlessly, licking some from her lips as more spilled down between her tits. It didn’t stop, spurt after spurt painting her until she glistened.
“Holy fuck,” she gasped, wiping at her cheek. “It’s… everywhere.”
He collapsed back, cock still twitching, utterly drained.
When the last drops dribbled onto her breasts, she leaned down, letting his softening cock rest against her cleavage.
“No wonder you can’t fuck with this monster,” she whispered, amused.
He nodded faintly. “I never will. Not inside.”
“What then?”
He looked at her, dazed, reverent. At the way her tits glowed with his cum, nipples slick, cleavage dripping.
“This,” he said. “Only this. Mouth first. Then tits. Forever.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. But she didn’t argue. She just squeezed her breasts together one last time around his cock, making him groan even in exhaustion. And in that moment, he knew this was his path. His worship. His destiny.
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This brought back a memory. Something I'd forgotten. Freshman year of Highschool. A new student. He had a monster cock. 14 and he already had 8+ inches of soft dick. Some of the other boys tormented him. His nuts were huge, low hangers too. Now I'm wondering about him?🤔?