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Ruby Tuesday

time to slow down

By Kevin RoachePublished 3 years ago 12 min read
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My morning glory greeted me again with its familiar, throbbing urgency as I attained consciousness on this glorious Tuesday morning. Mindlessly pumping my cock furiously in attempt to give myself some relief was my first instinct, as usual. I judiciously set about my regular post-hibernation wank.

It quickly became obvious that I was getting nowhere extremely quickly. I was in dire need of accessing one of my erotically charged memories. In no time at all the recollection of having my cock sucked by grandmother’s best friend had me whipping back my duvet just in time to witness a quite excessive spurt liberally covering my hairless chest.

Following my usual quick shower I gazed at my reflection following a wipe of condensation from the mirror. An honest appraisal of my appearance agreed my own inner feelings. I did look pretty scruffy. What I needed was a haircut to smarten myself up a bit.

I had noticed on many occasions a local barber’s shop just around the corner from where I currently resided, and I had nothing much to do this fine Tuesday morning, so I went along to get myself a trim. The place was deserted so waiting wasn’t called for. I was immediately ushered into a vacant chair and was set about with a water spray. It appeared I was being treated to a Men’s Dry Cut. What the water signified I do not know. I was in an Asian men’s hair salon, so I decided to give myself up to the experience – when in Rome, and all that.

The young chappy who was ministering to my needs was wearing one of these gown thingies, and a little cap. It appeared to me that he was getting some sort of pleasure by periodically, gently rubbing his groin against my upper arm every so often when clipping my hair. I didn’t mind this at all. In fact, I intended to take things a step further. “Never look a gift horse in the mouth” being a motto I attempt to live rigorously by on a daily basis.

When my new young friend once again gently pressured me with his parts, I gently but firmly took hold of his cock with my other hand, gripping him gently but firmly through the thin material of his gown. Two things started to happen quite quickly. Firstly, the handful in my delicate grasp was slowly getting harder and growing in size. Secondly, he pulled away, and ran to close the shutters and lock the door.

Returning to the spot in front of me where I had been handling him previously, he stood motionless looking down. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

I took this to be shyness and proceeded to take the lead. After allowing him enough time to realise I too was aware of the slight stain and huge bulge in the front of his gown, I bent and slowly lifted it up and over his head. This action revealed to me not only a quite magnificent athletic body, but most of all a massive hairy cock.

I put my hand around his waist and manoeuvred him onto my knee. Unlike me, my new friend didn’t have a foreskin I could play with. I wasn’t too sure how to prevent him from ejaculating too prematurely. I gently squeezed his enormous prick whilst slowly rubbing up and down his shaft. Alas, this produced spasms and copious spurts of pure white semen shooting across the shop. This was followed by heart rending apologies which with great effort I was able to allay.

I sat my charge down in my seat. As gracefully as I could, I managed kneel and take his big dick in my mouth. 30 seconds or so of coaxing with my tongue and big boy was rock hard once again. This time he lasted a good 5 minutes, or more. I employed my best techniques, licking up and down his shaft, then sucking, squeezing his balls. When he did come I had the good grace to swallow it all.

When it was all over my new friend felt the need to close up the shop and pray to Allah for guidance. What I didn’t get was a haircut that day.

As I donned my jacket and left the shop, I couldn’t help imparting some neighbourly wisdom to my new friend. I don’t know how seriously he took my advice to find a woman to suck his dick as often as possible.

I crossed the road and entered my local cafe. I had decided to cut my losses and satisfy my hunger with an all day breakfast. Janice, the owner and cook of Ruby’s Goode Foode (it turned out Ruby was the name of the cat Janice owned when she first opened her cafe), and she was the only the person in the place. I was beginning to think I was living in a ghost town.

I placed my order. Then I was faced with the decision of where to seat myself with so much choice. I chose a secluded booth in a cosy corner. I was more than pleasantly surprised when fifteen minutes later after furnishing me with my fare and cutlery, Janice slid into seat in the seat opposite me after inquiring if I would like some company. My reply to the effect that if she didn’t mind me ignoring her for 5 minutes whilst I ate like a pig, she was more than welcome to join me this produced a big smile from Janice.

When I had finished eating, and was in a position to study Janice at some length, her sparkling smile, and warm and caring nature was convincing me that I could do a lot worse than having a serious stab at a long-term steady monogamous relationship with this unique woman. How unique, I was later to discover.

I didn’t mind answering Janice’s thousand and one questions. In fact I just loved hearing the soft lilt of her west-country accent. My pronouncement and assertions surrounding the beauty and benefits of being your own boss produced a sigh from Janice. She admitted that the thought of having someone to cuddle up to at night could be preferable too. However, Janice sincerely felt that the days of her trying to find a compatible partner were long passed, especially considering her little problem.

This was very-unlike Janice. With what amounted to a bout of self-pity, as she poured out her heart, her last sentence intrigued me greatly. After a deep breath, as nonchalantly as I could manage I said, “Problem?” And let the silence grow between us to an almost unbearable decibel level.

I just quizzically stared at Janice and waited. And of course Janice broke first. Playing with her fingers and trying to pretend nothing of significance had occurred, Janice realized she had said too much and now it all had to come out. I made it easy for Janice. By simply asking questions I was able to get Janice to divulge her big secret. It was a pretty big one too.

The first question was centred on whether Janice thought she was physically different to other women. Her shy nod with head bowed prompted me to inquire if we were talking about downstairs? Another nod. I decided that closed questions weren’t going to get us very far. I asked about Janice’s previous attempted relationships and what had gone wrong. With a little prompting and teasing I was able to elicit scant details of the only disastrous attempted relationship Janice had ever attempted. Barry had been a prospective suitor some years previously. A date was arranged. After much alcohol consumption the evening’s conclusion ended with him groping for what he could get his hands on. Not unwilling, Janice allowed him to fondle her lower parts. The size and proportions of Janice’s massively oversized erect clitoris scared him off completely. He thought she was a hermaphrodite. In fact, all he felt was what he thought was an erect penis. He ran.

25 years later Janice still felt like a freak after living a celibate life with no prospects of it ever changing. Right there and then I felt it was my mission to end this state of affairs. I set my mind to determining the fastest and easiest way to get into Janice’s knickers.

I was fully aware of how emotionally drained Janice now was. It cannot have been easy for her to unburden her soul and be so honest. My tactic was to inject a little humour into the situation. I told Janice of a fairly recent relationship of mine whereby my partner had insisted I call her lady parts Charlotte. In turn, she referred to my unruly part as Winston. I told Janice I had no idea why Winston. Winston obviously being an African-Caribbean name, I assured her it wasn’t black. I also assured Janice it wasn’t that big either – as connotations of black men’s members are often assumed to be. This produced a giggle, giving me confidence I was on the right track.

I reached for Janice’s hand and assured her that her ‘problem’ wasn’t a problem. Not to me, or any right thinking man. I would give anything to see her ‘downstairs’. I decided that Janice needed to give her large clitoris a name. Charlie was the name I chose. Christening it Charlie I asserted that every time Janice’s erect clitoris was referred to it must be called Charlie. This Janice agreed to. Just when Janice appeared to be cheering up and accepting the situation, Janice said, “I think I’ll close for the day. There are no customers around.”

I could feel all my good work unravelling in front of me. In an attempt to rescue something of what I had gained so far, I gently took Janice’s hands in mine again. Quietly I assured Janice that I would be delighted and honoured to accompany her on a date, anytime. Squeezing a little tighter I told Janice I wanted her to be confident in the knowledge she was special to me, and I would call in every day to make sure Janice was smiling, and ready to engage with the world once again.

Janice looked me in the eye for a good 30 seconds, and with a grin said, “Do you want to come upstairs and meet Charlie?”

Janice had a neat, quite tiny flat above the cafe. Janice made me and herself a cup of tea. I sat on an easy chair opposite Janice and she sat on the sofa. I didn’t want to pressure her. This obviously wasn’t a good tactic. We were sat further apart than when we were in the cafe. Before I moved, I asked if Janice thought it might be a good idea if I moved to the sofa beside her - to get things going a bit. Janice agreed that it sounded like a good idea. I hadn’t actually positioned myself when Janice asked about my thoughts regarding the removal of her blouse. Nodding my assent I agreed to take off my own shirt in order for Janice not to feel exposed.

Janice had bigger boobs than I had realised. I slipped her left breast out of her half-cup bra and leaned forward to tease her semi-erect nipple into its full hard state with my eager, flicking tongue. I quickly repeated the process with Janice’s right breast. With Janice’s bra now around her waist I flitted between two great handfulls of lovely, pliable hard-tipped breasts.

I sat back to admire the view. Brushing an erect nipple with my thumb, I asked Janice if Charlie was in a similar sate. Janice smiled and nodded her head. I breathlessly croaked, “Can I see?”

Janice coyly stood and slipped her light blue silk panties down her legs and stepped out of them. I sat on the edge of the sofa and held my breath. Janice undid the buckle on her trendy belt and let her skirt fall to the floor, exposing all of her genitalia to me.

Standing proud at the tip of a mass of light curls was the biggest bulging clitoris I had ever seen. With absolutely no control at all I eagerly and hungrily lunged at her crotch with my mouth. First of all, I used my mouth to masturbate Janice, feverishly manipulating the hood of her clitoris. When, in quite a short space of time I felt a hot, spurting liquid hit the roof of my mouth, I came in my pants. This I hadn’t done since I was about 13 years old. I was too excited to feel embarrassed. Like a kid in a sweetshop I moved my tongue into Janice’s vagina and started to explore. Then back to Charlie. I think Janice got tired of standing up, or she was exasperated with my constant flitting, as she whispered in my ear, “Should we visit the bedroom?”

I grudgingly pulled away and assented to follow Janice to her bedroom. It was there that I confessed to my ‘accident’. It didn’t unduly bother Janice. It didn’t hold the same sense of shame as it did for me. As I explained that she will have to wait until I gain enough stamina to be able to perform again, Janice simply said, “We can cuddle while we wait.”

Cuddling and exploring soon got me standing to attention again and ready for action. Janice really did enjoy having Charlie sucked, but she wanted a cock inside of her. My condom’s natural lubricant, and lots of saliva, paved the way for relatively trouble free penetration. There was a little blood but thankfully no long lasting pain. It was after all Janice’s first time. If I had realised the time the enormity of this particular fuck, I would probably have come sooner. I was too engrossed in my own performance and pleasure, plus reacting to myriad of noises and sounds I was managing to produce from Janice, with nothing more than my cock, my tongue, and my nimble fingers.

When it became time to come to my own climax I mentally checked my list of essentials I had attended to, that made sure Janice had been thoroughly satisfied. Speed and ferocity, as well as a decent mental picture, ensured as usual a spectacular finale. Janice was not disappointed.

After it had all calmed down, I lay in Janice’s bed wondering if I would ever find myself in this position again. Glancing to see the afternoon sun playing on Janice’s face, Janice smiled at me. It was in that moment I realised I would be foolish not to give this a go.

erotic
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About the Creator

Kevin Roache

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