“Trash dick is not one size fits all; it comes in all shapes and sizes. This woman learns the “hard” way which size works for her.”

Anonymous As told to Ida Harris

I met Jermaine on my commute to work. Each morning, we’d arrive on the train platform at about the same time, for the hour-long ride into Manhattan. He made a point to sit next to me to seduce me with his wit and charm; after three months, he charmed the pants off me — literally. He was smart, funny, and easy on the eyes. Every Friday thereafter, he’d have a single flower for me; a rose, a tulip, a lily. One time his ass brought me a cactus because according to him “I was acting crabby all week.” After work, on Friday evenings, we’d try some random bar or restaurant we’d never been to. He would have everything mapped out, I never had to plan or suggest. The only requirement was to be ready, thirsty, and hungry. He made sure I was fully satisfied and got in safely at nights end. Leading up to the night we first fucked, Jermaine was consistent as fuck, and I wasn’t even mad. Week after week, I was impressed and confident with who he was and how he treated me.

One Friday, after a hearty Peruvian meal, a whole carafe of sangria, talking beaucoup shit, drunk flirting, and sitting in soaked panties, it was only right that I give him some ass when he asked. I liked a dude who was straight up and got to the point.

“I need you to ride this dick.” he gestured with a head nod to the dick print in his pants.

Bitch. My mouth watered. My jaw dropped. That shit was so chunky and long, I was looking forward to ease my ass down on it. I was long overdue for some dick action so his timing was also right. We got to the hotel and got straight to business. We took turns showering and decided to do the same with lotioning and massaging each other’s butt-naked bodies. He took his time with me. He nibbled on my earlobes, caressed my tits and chewed lightly on each nipple. He squeezed pudgy belly and tongue-fucked my navel. Then he cupped my ass cheeks in his hands and put his face all the way in the place. I squirmed in his mouth while he munched on my pussy like it was dessert. Jermaine ate me dry till I have nothing else to serve him.

He laid face down so while I returned the favor of rubbing his back, his strong ass, his thigh muscles. Then he rolled over on his back and started stroking what looked like a big ass tree trunk. I’m sure my eyes bulged out their sockets. His — dick — was — huge; unusually huge. Like Mount Kilimanjaro huge. I couldn’t even mask the amount of fear and horror that replaced my lust.

I was frozen. He took my hand a placed it on his dick. His sausage was was so big, I couldn’t close my palm around it.

“Just kiss it” he said.

A few pecks couldn’t hurt so I went for it. I licked up and down the thick veins running through that log and kissed around the tip a bit. He kept gyrating his groin toward my face so I had no choice, but to open wide and receive more of his meat in my mouth; problem was I couldn’t. It just didn’t fit. I stretched my lips as far apart as humanly possible to wrap them around this horse dick and all that would fit was the head. After a few attempts to deep-throat it, he summoned me to stop.

He got up and stretched a Magnum condom on. It looked painful as if it was strangling and suffocating his shit. I hurt for him. He flipped me on my back and after five full minutes of him trying to work it in, and me bracing myself for the worst, he finally eased his dick inside me. For a good few minutes, the sensation of a ten inch, five centimeter schlong, stretching my vag and filling its walls was euphoria. That pipe triggered every nerve in my cervix as it knocked on my uterus’ door. I came quickly and quite lovely on that dick. But afterwhile, it felt like a huge power tool drilling nothing but concrete cock into my womb. With each stroke, I flinched and squealed from the pain and pressure. I know I had some good twat because most dudes told me so, but at one point, Jermaine seemed unphased to be fucking me.

“Bust it open for me” he asked so he could go deeper.”

When I looked down at his dick entering my pussy only ⅓ of it was actually going in and out. This nigga whole ding-a-ling wasn’t even in me. Meanwhile, my shit needed emergency care. When I told him I couldn’t take anymore, he whispered some freak shit in my ear that convinced me I could. I gave him the greenlight. He cocked my legs up and pinned my knees to my shoulders and stuffed his whole johnson in my gut. To distract me and keep me from hollering, he kissed me deep in the mouth as he plunged that horse-sized dick in my chest cavity. I mean if he fucked me any harder he might’ve tore my uterine lining and if he fucked any further that shit may have come through my mouth. The dick was massive. He pile-drived my pussy 20 more times before taking the condom off and busting a legion of sperm into the air, then passed out on top of me and mumbled:

“Rest up for round two.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or not, but I wriggled from beneath him and did a bee-line to the bathroom. I eased down on the toilet and when I peed, it felt like I was pissing flames. I was scared to even wipe; I dripped-dry and patted around my swollen crotch. I was throbbing so hard, a nurse could take my pulse down there. I crept back to the bed and found ‘Maine snoring lightly. I slipped into my clothes, and out the door, and never looked back. A bitch couldn’t even walk straight. I was waddling down the hallway like I just dropped a ten-pound baby. When I got home, I prayed my pussy wasn’t broke and soaked it in a warm tub for two hours. I pampered it with essential oils and sage, and made a promise to my beloved box to never put her through dick trauma ever again.

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Ida Harris

I be writing. I’m aiight with standard English, but poetic with Black Vernacular. I’mma dope dealer, too

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