A Fresh Start
I was making my presentation when my phone rang. It was from an unknown number, so I let it buzz. The caller persisted, so at the third attempt, I answered the call. An excited voice greeted, “Hi Lizzy, how are you?”
It was Susan, my childhood friend. Recollecting happy memories, we chatted. I last met her eight years ago, when we were sixteen. We had a lot to catch up on. After gossiping for half an hour, Susan came to the point, “I called you because Viro is joining the university in your city.”
Viro, Susan’s younger brother, was six years younger than her. The skinny, dumb boy was virtually my pet. He called me Boss and did whatever I said.
Susan teased, “You remember him, don’t you? He made lots of pancakes for you.”
Naughty memories came to my mind, “How can I forget him. He was so cute. How can I help him? You want me to pick him up and guide him?”
Susan teased, “No. He is a big independent 18-year-old boy who can take care of himself. I told him to meet you, but he said later. I just called to let you know.”
Was Susan reluctant to ask directly? I offered, “Give me his number. I will call him.”
Susan was silent for a moment. Then she warned, “Lizzy, I will text you his number but be careful. He is not the Viro we know. He has changed.” She paused and spoke with concern, “ I suggest you don’t entertain him. I called to warn you — stay away from him.”
Her voice called for concern. Why should I stay away from my favorite cutie, “Why? Is everything all right with him?”
Susan laughed, “Yes, silly. He is a normal guy. There is nothing wrong with him, just the problems of a growing teen.”
My anxiety did not reduce, “Is he into drugs or alcohol? Tell me. I can help.”
Susan calmed me down, “No. Nothing like that.” She hesitated before telling me, “He is a bit obsessed with sex.” Then she joked, “Don’t worry. In the university, he will find a girlfriend to help him.”
I was relieved and did not dig deeper into the matter. After conversing for few more minutes, we hung up. Funny, Susan made me promise to keep in touch and stay out of Viro’s way.
I got busy with my work, but my thoughts kept going back to Viro. The shy guy was so cute that he could pass off as a girl. Why should he have trouble finding a girlfriend? Probably, because of lack of confidence. Even as a kid, I stood for him against bullies. Should I call him? What would Susan say?
Childhood friendships are unforgettable, and Viro was special. I decided to call him.
Friday evening is the right time to begin a fun-filled weekend, but this homework was killing me. The university assignments were tough to finish. My phone rang, it said, Lizzy.
Lizzy. With sarcasm, I remembered the flat-chested bossy friend of my sister. Even at sixteen, the nerdy girl could not find a date for herself. Whenever she got a chance, she wanted me to eat pancakes. Showing little of her bony pleasure hole, she wanted me to finger and eat her till she came. My stupid sister, Susan — instead of stopping her, she joined and helped her. I let the phone ring.
When Lizzy did not stop calling, I answered her call. She was acting sweet and wanted me to visit her once. I avoided her, saying schedules are tight. She insisted, so I asked her to text her address and disconnected. Who is going to meet Susan’s friend? She will give feedback to my family and try to sermon me even here.
The door of the house on the other side of the road opened. A hot five feet two-inch blonde came out to water plants in her garden. I had just shifted as a tenant here. This bombshell caught my eye on day one. Short with fresh juicy assets. Like every other day, I hid behind the curtain and watched her. Her voluptuous round jugs were abnormally disproportionate to her slender waist. Even when her back was towards me, I could see the melons protruding out from her sides. It was a pleasure to see them try jumping out from the top of her T-shirt. Whatever shorts she wore, the cloth always slid deep in her rear crack. Again, below her slender waist, her bottom looked like a perfect oversized apple. Her smooth milky white skin and baby face was instigating me to find more about her. I think she was in college, but I did not see her parents live here. Maybe the wealthy princess is independent and living alone.
I fed on her desirable fleshy body till the rain played the villain. It started drizzling and threatened to pour. She went indoors, and I twanged my dong, who had risen majestically to salute the princess. And all these arousing thoughts came to a sudden end when I saw the text — Lizzy’s address. She was eager to meet — Texting me as soon as I cut the call.
Good that it is raining heavily. Now I can cancel all weekend plans and enjoy reading a book for two full days. Viro. What’s wrong with the boy? He came running to me when young. What turned him wry and dry? I must talk to Susan and visit him one day. Can let him stay like this forever?
The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. Who could it be? It was pouring. I looked out of the window — There was no car outside! The bell rang impatiently. This neighborhood was safe, so I opened the door.
A six-foot well built young boy greeted me with a dimpled smile and gave me a bunch of roses, “Hi Lizzy.”
I was amazed — Viro stood before me! The handsome boy was all muscles and no fat. Smiling broadly, he engulfed me in a tight bear hug, lifting me off the floor, “Boss, I am soo glad to see you.”
The flowers in my hand crushed between our bodies. Grinning delightfully, Viro brought me inside.
I was overjoyed, “Viro! What a surprise! I was not expecting you.”
He gave me an Eskimo kiss and spoke shyly, “How could I say no to my boss?”
Putting my arms around his neck, I blushed, “You have grown up. All muscles.”
He was naughty, “You are the same. Sweet and my friend.”
Was he kneading my buttocks? No! I think he was trying to adjust his grip. I noticed, “You are all drenched up. Let me down and change your clothes. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
He let me go. Even my shirt was wet and outlining my curves. Was he eyeing them? I don’t think so. He was having a good look at his old friend. I disturbed him, “Do you have something to wear?”
“Yes,” he pulled out few clothes from his bag and beamed, “I have come prepared. We are spending the weekend together.” He looked around, “Who else stays here?”
I surprised him, “None.”
He was curious, “No boyfriend or roomie?”
I disappointed him, “No. I am alone here.”
He was polite, “Sorry, I did not know. It is proper for me to return to my place tonight.”
I faked anger, “Absolutely not! This house is yours too. And I have a separate guest room.”
A cute smile graced his clean-shaven face. I gave him the guest room to occupy and went to change too. Viro did surprise me. What changed his mind? He was curt and looked disinterested on the phone. His transformation into a bubby teen was surprisingly mysterious. Probably the rains canceled his weekend plans, and he became free. Or did Susan talk to him? Anyway, I was glad to have him here. We could catch up on old times, see some movies, and eat some tasty food.
I pulled out a full-length pajama to wear, then stopped. Will Viro think that I covered myself because he was here? Why offend the kid? I wore short silk pajamas. Then I slipped into my 5-inch platform heels — I was a dwarf in front of him.
Viro walked out in his shorts and T-shirt. Hair carefully groomed, generously spraying himself with musky deodorant, he could not stop smiling. And his smile was very contagious.
The evening was full of fun — we shared anecdotes and jokes. Honestly, I was the one talking — Viro was content knowing more about me. Like before, I was his hero — a role model he could not stop praising. The best thing about Viro was that the child in him was alive. He was bubbling with excitement and was very physical. Sitting on my right, his left arms rarely stopping massaging my left shoulder down to the waist. His right hand grazed my knees, and at times even tickled my inner thighs. With innocence, he did not think before squeezing them when he got excited. At times I became uncomfortable with his casual touches. To stop them, occasionally, I held his hand. The fidgety boy then starts playing with my fingers, squeezing them uncomfortably at times.
After dinner, we settled down to see a movie. Sitting beside me, like before, Viro pulled my waist and brought me close to him. I could not resist asking him, “Viro, why did Susan tell me to stay away from you?”
A naughty smile flashed on Viro’s face, and he kissed me. Stunned, I could do nothing. He bit and milked my lips like a hungry wolf. Holding me hard, he kneaded both my breasts like it was dough. I tried holding his hands, but he pinched my nips hard. “Ouch!” Using all my energy, I flicked his hand away. Thankfully he stopped. I flushed, gasped to get my breath, and saw him giggle like a child. Still holding me close, he joked, “Susan thinks, I will treat you like I treat my girlfriends.”
That wild kiss attack was painfully arousing. Noticing my anger, Viro patted my cheeks gently, “Smile. I was joking.”
After two more of his pleads, I managed to smile feebly, “You have a girlfriend?”
He was proud, “Yes. Many. Why? Why are you asking that?”
Having no answer, I thought, “Yes, why shouldn’t he? He had the charm and physique. Susan was right — Viro had changed. He was bigger, stronger, and ferocious — He could lift me like a doll, and that crushing kiss was close to being brutal. I had to be careful.”
I questioned, “Viro, you were not so eager to meet me. What changed your mind?”
His hands were pressing me close. I was conscious now. Not my waist — he was holding my breasts, and his fingers were moving. His laugh was to reassure me, “I thought you live far away. When I saw your address, I found out that your house was opposite mine.”
I was surprised, “I remember. Someone moved in last month. So it was you?”
Viro nodded. He was not as innocent as he looked. The guy opposite me was a rogue. I had seen him hiding and leering at me. I was annoyed, “If you were living next door, why did you bring your bag?”
“Hey!” he got up angrily. “The bag has gifts for you. I thought you were a sport. That is why I kissed to tease you. Good that I know you now. I am leaving.” He went to the guest room.
I was in two minds — Should I let him go? Or would it be rude? Teens do leer at pretty girls. He did not know who I was. Was I overreacting to his joke — the kiss — Was it only a demonstration?
He came out with his bag. I blocked his way, “Look. I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.” To apologize, I charmed him with my smile and lied, “I was jealous. You kiss very well.”
He smiled like before and asked innocently, “Isn’t it? Susan is very jealous too. She spreads lies about me.” There was an expectation in his eyes, “Can I kiss you again?”
“No.” I retorted.
Grabbing my booty, he plucked me off the floor and pinned me against the wall. Massaging my bottom and thighs, he jammed his lips on mine. His tongue slurped my juices. This time he let me breathe. Not out of pity. He did it to bite my lips, cheeks, and chin — sloppy and wet. He was so strong that my squirming excited him even more. He rubbed his boner harder against me. A sensation began to build up inside me. If he did not stop, I would burst. He did not, and I spasmed — tremoring multiple times, shaking vigorously. He sensed that I had gone limp and stopped. My legs were still around his waist. He was quick to giggle an explanation, “This is the punishment for getting angry with me. Now we are friends again.” Full of lust, he was getting ready to feed on my saliva again. But he stopped to ask, “Are we friends or not?”
“Yes. Yes. Put me down.” I mumbled.
Carrying me like a sack, he dumped me on the sofa and joined me. Before I knew it, he pulled me on his lap and hugged me tightly. Grazing my cheeks, he whispered, “Boss. Can you give me some pancakes? I am hungry.”
A chill ran down my spine. Viro remembered the stupid game we played. Nervously, I blabbered, “Viro, we were children then.”
He laughed like a kid and pecked my cheek. Letting me go, he brought his bag and chuckled, “Boss, you have lost your teen humor.” He pulled out few freshly purchased grocery packets, “I was talking about real pancakes. What did you think?” He winked suggestively, “Those?”
I heaved a sigh of relief and decided to take control. I ordered, “Viro. No more nonsense or I will throw you out of the house.”
He gave an apologetic smile, “Sorry, boss. I am making some pancakes. Can I use your kitchen?”
Without waiting for an answer, he took the ingredients and disappeared inside the kitchen. The moment he was out of sight, I checked my shorts. Did my juices wet them? Luckily my dress was dry. Not able to resist, I dipped my fingers in my honey pot and took them out. The amount of thick gooey honey which came out with it surprised me. Out of nowhere, Viro grabbed my hand, looked lustfully at me, and licked my fingers dry — slow, one at a time.
“You taste sweeter now,” He winked before walking away.
After picking a few more ingredients, Viro headed back to the kitchen. I was deeply embarrassed. Susan was right — I should have stayed away from him. He was horny, and till he quenches his fire, he will remain so. There is no doubt that he will come back and take me. I am half his size — How can I stop him? He wants me to cooperate with him. Else, he will force me. This break was my opportunity to escape. I cannot throw him out, but I can leave this house and be safe.
“How many pancakes do you have?” His boyish cheerful voice disturbed me.
I stammered, “None. I don’t like pancakes.”
Viro laughed like old times. I got confused again. Was he that bad? May not be. But he is aroused — and that is not going away without any effort. An evil desire rose inside me. I wanted him to do it to me. Why not? He was big, handsome, and my friend. I was tired of being wooed and penetrated like a doll. I wanted a rough and grueling adventure. Viro would do it if I did not submit myself to him. So let me act hard to take.
What happens if he doesn’t?
I smiled to myself. Then, my slave is with me for another two days — how long can he control himself?
He was cooking in my kitchen. Courtesy demanded that I help him. Composing myself, I joined him.
Viro was making the chocolate sauce — I stood at a safe distance, watching him. He boasted, “The best soft puffy chocolate pancakes are coming up.”
I was cold, “Do you want any help?”
Without looking back, he replied, “Yes. You have to give me some honey and cream.”
I apologized, “I don’t think I have them.”
He smiled, “Don’t worry. I will get them.” Sliding the cholate sauce bowl towards me, he requested, “Mix this syrup till it is thick. I will prepare the pancake and heat the oven.”
Without showing interest, I began stirring the syrup.
Viro was watching me. Not satisfied, he came behind me and held both my hand with his and dipped them in the bowl, “Use your hands. It will be easier.”
Churning the chocolate sauce with my hands, he pressed his boner into my back. Erotically, he rubbed the syrup on my finger and palms. Breathing heavily into my neck, he began grinding my rear harder. The pressure of my mound rubbing the counter and his rock-hard boner made me moan. I warned, “What are you doing?”
There was lust in his voice, “Boss, I want to eat your pancake. Just like old times.”
My heart pounded in excitement, but I did not answer. Viro took a scoop of syrup and rubbed it in my mouth, “Boss, is it sweet enough?” Rubbing my lips sensuously, he let it spill and make a mess.
His fingers were probing my mouth crudely. With difficulty, I cautioned, “Viro, my top is getting dirty.”
In a flash, he ripped the buttons off and threw my top away, “Sorry, Boss.”
I was not wearing a bra. So immediately, I covered myself with my hands. The thick dark brown sauce was now on my milky white breasts.
He laughed with boyish excitement and bit my neck. Then, slowly but firmly, he removed my hands. Scooping another handful of sauce, he smeared it on my melons.
Clutching with all his might, he praised, “Boss, these have grown beautifully.”
Twisting and pinching, “Your nipples are so rosy. Do they hurt when I pinch them? Can I milk them?”
My darling — milk bags — all males treated them with compassion and respect. He was punishing them — Mashing them together — Tapping them — Sqeezing them.
The mauling took words away from me. I moaned, “The chocolate — Ouch!“
He regretted, “Sorry,” and chuckled, “I will not waste it.”
Picking me up with ease, he placed me on the counter — facing him. Greedily, he slurped the chocolate off my nipples. His rough tongue rocked me from inside, and I grabbed his hair to free myself. With a whimper, he bore the pain and went on licking. The suckles got stronger. Like a miser, he was not wasting a drop. My ecstasy peaked when he began trying to draw milk from me. A painful bite to pluck the nipples out made me scream, “Stop it!”
He stopped, and I slapped him lightly in anger. He was apologetic, “Boss, I am sorry. Do you want me to stop?”
I tried holding my shivering body still and replied firmly, “Yes.”
Taking a wet towel, he wiped my body clean — not very gently. But he stopped me from getting off the counter. Taking a fresh scoop of chocolate, he rubbed it on my lips and inquired, “Boss, give me a frank opinion. How is the syrup?”
I snapped, “Bitter. There is no sugar.”
With a charming smile, he blamed me, “Boss, I asked for honey. You did not give it to me.”
I jumped off and tried to free myself from the sandwich between him and the counter. Faking anger, I tried irritating him, “I did not have honey. And even if I did, I wouldn’t have given you any.”
With a bear hug, he lifted me and grinned, “Ok, Boss. I know where you keep it. I will take it from there.”
Sealing my lips with his, he muffled my protest. This kiss was softer, so I lost myself — kissing him with passion and love. After the first time, despite his not pushing my head, I went back for the second smack. Taking advantage of my mistake, he took his hand away and plunged them into my shorts.
He was using the word I taught him as a child. Gently squeezing my mound with his big palm, he declared, “Boss, I found a honeycomb.”
His large mid-finger entered effortlessly, so he pushed two more with it and announced, “Boss, this honeypot is full of honey.”
A muffed scream left me when his thick fingers reached three inches inside me.
“Boss, the walls of the oven are dry. Let me lubricate them.” He circled and massaged my thick inner walls. There was no shortage of lubricants.
He took out my juices and slurped them. Enjoying my struggle, he forced fed me with the next lot — I got my first taste of myself.
“Boss, you are greedy. Let me have more.” He made me stand and gripped me from behind. Then he began a gentle but firm round of fingering. Rubbing my puffy walls and stiff pleasure bud, he pumped, using all three fingers. I spread my feet wider, letting him reach deeper. With my every plea of, “No!” he increased the pace. A burst of fast and furious strokes made me whine till my legs failed me.
Seeing me buckle, Viro cradled me to the bedroom and threw me on the 12-inch cushion. Pulling me by my legs, he brought me close. Grabbing my shorts and panties together — with a violent jerk — he took them off. I locked my knees. Grinning like a devil, he spread them apart and looked evilly at my hairless mound.
“Boss, the pancakes are fluffy and juicy, but you want them red. Don’t you?”
“Ouch,” I whimpered every time he slapped my mound with his heavy hand.
“There you are, boss. Now it is rosy and swollen — just how you like it.”
“Stop it, Viro,” I begged. I wanted him to start drilling me.
Obediently, he stopped and came to my side and cuddled. Pinning me with his leg, he mashed my melons and inquired, “Boss, are you sure that I should stop?”
I knew he wouldn’t, “Let me go. I will forget all that happened.”
Sqashimg my melons harder, he bargained, “Boss, let me eat one pancake. Then I will leave.”
“Please,” he pecked and requested thrice.
“Ok. Do it fast,” I surrendered.
He was curious, “Boss, don’t you like eating pancakes?”
I wast itching to him to ride me. So I retorted, “No. I quit after we moved away.”
“Do you know why you stopped liking pancakes?” With his hand teasing my nipples, he did not wait for an answer and explained, “You did not teach me to cook them properly. Today, I will make a good one for you.”
Without delay, he placed his head between my legs and thrust his tongue inside me. My big scream went unheard, and he licked every wall of my cave. I could hear him slurp and feel the tickle deep inside me. Holding me in place by my thighs, he drove me crazy. I wrapped my legs around him, but he did not stop flicking my clit. I shuddered and spasmed violently. Trying to crack his head with my thighs, I punched my fists on the cushion, “Viro! Viro! Viro!”
Viro emerged only after my lifeless legs fell apart — wide open. With a victorious grin, he came to my side and asked, “Boss, you know why Susan warned you?”
I had no energy to act, so I gave him a sweet and content smile, “Now, I know.”
He gave me a soft kiss and whispered, “No, you don’t. I will tell you why.”
In a flash, my curiosity turned into surprise, and I clasped my mouth in amazement. Viro was standing with an eight-inch stiff rod in his hand, threatening me with it, “Susan was worried, this monster will terrify you.”
Surrounded by scary throbbing veins, the hole in his rod was pulsating as if ordering me to kiss it. I was eager but scared. My pleasure hole was hungry, but after Viro’s treatment, she was not starving. She told me, “I am not letting this monster touch me.”
I gathered strength and sat on the bed’s edge, ready to leave. The monster laughed wickedly and came closer to my lips. I protested, “Viro, you promised to leave after eating the pancake.”
The monster’s mouth kissed my firmly shut mouth. “Boss, I will leave. But first, let me cook the pancake and eat it. When we were young, you got half-cooked pancakes, that is why you did not like them. After today, you will relish them forever.”
“I will complain to Susan.” These words gave enough opportunity for the monster to enter and stuff my mouth. Blow jobs repulsed me, and I had never tried them. I pushed with all my might to free myself.
Viro was not taking a no for an answer. Engulfing and choking me, he threatened, “Boss, the batter is resting. Let us clean the mixer.”
Unable to fight, I gave up. Now, Viro held my hair and began stroking. The slow and gentle probes were too good to last — Stronger and deeper thrusts replaced them. The stuffing left no place for me to breathe. My saliva drooled out in volumes. The gags made me cough and brought tears to my eyes.
Viro pulled out and slapped my cheeks with his gooey rod. My teary eyes saw him grin. The game was over for him. He pushed me on my back and positioned himself to mount me.
One moment his tip was spreading the petals of my pink entrance, and the next moment he stabbed me deeply. The piercing pain made me shriek, and I sprung eight inches off my bed. As if he was expecting it, he caught me in mid-air and wrapped his arms around my back. When I landed, his hundred-kilo body dropped on me, crushing me. I screamed as his rod slammed me mercilessly. I spread my legs wide, but the pain in my stuffed cave did not ease. With his every stroke, our bed moved an inch, and I bawled. He was slamming me every second. In a few minutes, I passed out.
A rhythmic hammering woke me up. Viro was still pounding me — A stroke every second — There was no pain. A warm meat stuffing, thumping me, was sending streams of pleasure to every vein of my body. The sound of the splashing juices and squeaking bed was embarrassing. Every hit moved the bed randomly by an inch. Enjoying every moment, I wrapped my arms and legs around him. The hammering continued relentlessly.
Every few minutes, an explosion built inside me, and I erupted like a fountain — shuddering and quaking. My cave, which learned to be content with a trickle, was flooded and overflowing with juices.
His weight and his crashing pelvis were hurting me again. To end the session, I began caressing his back and kissing his neck. He slowed down and looked into my eyes, “Boss, you like it?”
I pulled him into a kiss. With my kisses, he began to slow down. I let his hands know they were neglecting my breasts. He smiled and took his weight off me. The strokes became slower, and he began playing with my melons.
Seeing me happy, he beamed like a child. Taking his hair, I pulled him to a loving liplock. Rolling passionately, I ended up on him. He looked surprised. Slowly, I began moving on him — grinding him mischievously before letting him slide out. He closed his eyes in pleasure and let me do all the work.
I was moving on him — slow and deep. The big bull was begging, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
I was beginning to get tired and sore, so I encouraged him, “Come Viro. Shoot inside me. Flood me with your love. Give my pancake the cream.”
He was in trance and whispering, “I am. I am. Just a bit more.”
I egged him for a few minutes more before he screamed in frustration, “Boss, I can’t come. I have tried very hard. I never finish. The girls run away tired or call for help. No one dates me.” He was sobbing, “I don’t finish.”
I was shocked and scared. The tears in my favorite boy’s eyes melted me. Fortunately, my hungry body was still enjoying its first battering and moving on him. I knew he was close, and a trigger could help him finish.
Smiling seductively, I patted his face, “Open your eyes and look at me.” He obeyed. Helping him milk my melons, I made my strokes slower and fuller. Every time I made him split my petals and move to the end of my cave, he groaned in delight.
“Get ready to come.” I psyched him. Demonstrating my appreciation, I rode him faster. He began to close his eyes and throbbing.
“Ready,” I shouted, got off him, and lay flat on the bed. Like a child eager to join the fun, he obeyed and placed his rod between my melons. I squeezed them around his monster and begged, “Shoot me, Viro. Shoot your boss. Show no mercy.”
He took the cue. Crushing my melons with his hand, he moved his rod through them.
Now, my eyes were on the mouth of the monster. I was scared. No one had ever spilled cream on me. The use of rubber was a must. Now, a messy eruption was going to hit me — I could not watch it. My eyes began to flicker intermittently.
Lizzy — Pretty face — Wait, I am going to shoot you. Yes. There will be no mercy.
I was enjoying rummaging my rod through her bloodshot melons. They were tight and could burst if I pressed hard.
I mashed them against each other. My shaft could barely get space to move. Lizzy’s expressions were so cute. She wants me to shoot her but is scared of getting hit. One second, she waited in anticipation — the next moment, she looked away to avoid the hit. Her lips smiled, and her face frowned.
Sweety, I will shower all my savings on you. The thought sent a chill in me — My throbbing felt so different. Lizzy, my boss, brace yourself.
Viro’s painful grip on my melons was hurting me. I opened my eyes fully to check if he was close to erupting. The monster took revenge.
The first cream bomb was the biggest. It splashed my eye.
In disgust, I shouted, “Aaah.” A mistake — done earlier today — from which I did not learn.
Why did I open my mouth? The following cream bombs went right through. They were big and came rapidly — one after another. In seconds my mouth was full of thick white cream. I turned my face to avoid them, and my cheeks got splattered. Like a fool, I saved it by putting the other cheek in the firing line. The shooting did not stop. With my eyes closed, I felt like he was emptying a bottle full of cream on me.
I could hear an overjoyed Viro exclaim — “I came!” “I came!” “I came!” “Thank you, boss.” “You are the best.”