[F]35 - The one about the biggest cock I ever encountered

Okay, so I've never been one of those women who actively seeks out huge dicks. Like, give me average, or even slightly below, with a guy who knows how to use it over some monster that just jabs my cervix like it's trying to Morse code its way through my uterus. But. There was one time. One glorious, ridiculous, holy shit time where I stumbled onto something… excessive. And, against all odds, it was kind of amazing.

He was a guy from my college course, let's call him Nate. Nerdy in that way that's actually low-key hot: glasses, always wearing band tees, the kind of guy who could talk for an hour about some obscure indie game. Not my usual type looks-wise, but he had this easy confidence, this smirk that made you want to poke at him just to see how he'd react.

We hooked up after a study group that turned into drinking in his dorm. Flirting had been this slow, simmering thing, him teasing me about my shitty opinions on music, me “accidentally” brushing against him every time I reached for my drink. By the time we were alone, I was already wet, already imagining his hands on me. What I wasn't imagining? The absolute unit lurking in his boxers.

I remember the moment I saw it, like, full, on saw it, not just felt it through his jeans when we were making out. He was pulling his shirt off, and I was working on his belt, and then… Jesus Christ. It was obscene. Thick, veiny, curving slightly upward like it was fucking showing off. My first thought was, Oh no. My second was, Oh fuck, I need to try this.

I'm not gonna lie, the first time I wrapped my hand around it, I had to pause. Like, how was this supposed to fit? How was I supposed to fit it? But then he made this noise, this low, rough groan when I started stroking him, and suddenly all my hesitation turned into sheer, greedy curiosity.

I went down on him, obviously. Because duh. And let me tell you, taking that thing in my mouth was a project. I couldn't even get halfway before my jaw was aching, but the way his hips twitched, the way his fingers tightened in my hair, god, it was worth it. He was vocal, too, whispering fuck and just like that in this ragged voice that made my thighs squeeze together.

When it came to actual sex? Yeah, there was some… logistics involved. I was wet as hell, but even then, the first thrust was a lot. He went slow, letting me adjust, but the stretch was unreal, this deep, burning fullness that made my toes curl. And then, when he was finally all the way in? I swear I could feel him in my stomach. Every movement dragged against my walls in this slow, filthy way, like he was rearranging me from the inside out.

The best part, though? He knew what he was doing. Big dicks are useless if the guy attached to them just jackhammers like he's trying to dig to China, but Nate? Nate took his time. He fucked me with this lazy, controlled rhythm, grinding deep when he was fully sheathed, pulling these broken little moans out of me. And when I came, it was stupid intense, this full-body clench that had me seeing stars.

We hooked up a few more times after that, and every single one was an experience. Missionary with my legs over his shoulders, him bending me over his shitty dorm desk. But that first time? That first time lives in my head rent-free.

So yeah. Maybe I'm still not a size queen. Maybe I'll still take skill over sheer inches any day. But god damn, sometimes… sometimes you just want to get wrecked.