Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: redragon@interserv.com Subject: The Seventeen Inch Cock (MF, inc) Date: 4 Dec 1995 02:28:52 GMT The Seventeen Inch Cock There's A First Time For Everything Hi. You've probably heard about me, even if you haven't read about me in Time, Newsweek, People or the National Enquirer. You may have even seen me on 60 Minutes, 20/20, Hard Copy or Oprah. Yep, that's me. The guy with the seventeen-inch cock. The way I figure it, it's time you heard my side of the story without all the studio props or out-of-context quotes. I've been answering questions all my life, but none of the interviewers has ever seemed interested in anything more than what's hanging between my legs down to my knees. Let's start with the numbers so I can get them out of the way. The seventeen-inch measurement that's generally tossed around is when I'm not aroused - and believe me, when you've got a bunch of doctors poking and prodding and scratching down notes, you're not exactly in the mood for arousal. The more practical numbers are twenty-one inches from the top of the base of my cock to the tip, a diameter of two and half to three inches, and a circumference of eight or nine inches. Those numbers are in effect most of the time, because I am a major fan of women. During my life, I've been called everything from "Holy Shit!" to the life-support system for one of the world's largest dicks. People stop me in malls to call me a prick, then laugh like they're the first ones to ever think of such a witty line. You can call me Matt, though, because that's what my parents named me some thirty-five years ago. Back in those days, ultrasound scannings before birth were something out of science fiction, so everybody stood around waiting to see what gender the baby would be. In my case, they had a clue during the delivery because I was born with a hard-on and they nearly had to cut my mother open to get me out. Mom says that right after the doctor smacked me on the back, one of the nurses tried to use my adult-sized shaft for a pacifier. See, that's another one of the problems I've lived with. It's not just the size of the bulge in my pants that sets off women, it's some kind of animal attraction. I can be wearing baggy pants, be facing the other way and still have feminists clawing at me like it was mating season at the mink farm. Maybe it's pheremones - you know, like they use in some of the newer colognes and perfumes - or perhaps it creates some sort of biological magnetic field. I don't know, and neither do a couple of people who have pulled down PhDs with their research on it. Whatever it is, though, it works - and it works in spades. As you can imagine, that's come in handy any number of times over the years. What you may not be able to imagine is how difficult it can make ordinary day-to-day life. For example, I wanted to be a gymnast, and I got pretty good at it - during practice, that is. The coach eventually asked me to drop off the team because there were too many disruptions in the stands every time I walked out onto the floor in my skin-tight outfit during meets. Then, too, there was always the near-fatal danger of any miscalculation while working on the horizontal bar or pommel horse. The same thing happened to my swimming career. I wanted to be a diver because I could use my gymnastic skills, but Speedos don't even begin to provide cover. It's kind of like asking Dolly Parton to use a hanky for a bra. Jams weren't available in the early seventies, and boxer trunks gave too many opportunities for my cock to thrill the crowd as it snuck out a leg. We even tried some of the wrestler's outfits, but gave up in the battle of the bulge. Baseball was much the same. I got on base a lot because opposing pitchers would get distracted - or pissed - and throw the ball at my crotch. I've got some permanent dents in my left side from twisting away from a fast ball, but the experience gave me great reflexes - and a terrific batting average. Football? Ha! Try finding a cup that big, and then try fitting it under a pair of football pants. And then try keeping opposing linemen from trying to bury the top of their helmets below your navel. But you aren't here to listen my list of problems, and I'd rather not dwell too much on them. There are advantages to cocks the size of mine, though, and I'll get to some of those in a minute. By the time I was a teenager, teams of doctors had built their reputations with the help of my penis. The medical libraries of the country have had to add extra shelving just to accommodate the reams of dissertations and books that have been written about my genitalia. I remember doctors showing me pornography as they tried to measure how long it would take me to become fully erect, but I didn't really relate well to that as a child. They evidently had other plans in mind, too, but my parents wouldn't let them fuck around with me until I was old enough to understand what they were doing. To give you a perspective, I was born with four inches. By the time I got my first bike at five, I had ten inches - and had to get a girl's model because my dad was afraid of what might happen otherwise. By the time I entered junior high and started growing pubic hair, I was carrying fourteen inches of meat between my thighs. I topped out at seventeen inches about the time I got my driver's license. My sister had noticed these changes, and had been working on any number of plans that would let her satiate the desires that had been building as she matured from a girl to a woman. Vicci was and is one of the most beautiful women I've ever known; she's three years older than me and strongly resembles Raquel Welch in all aspects. She was quite frustrated, too, because my dad kept a close watch on whom she dated and when she got home and all the other things that dads are supposed to do to keep their teenage daughters pure and innocent. At some point - and from what she tells me now, that happened a lot earlier than I had suspected - Vicci turned her attention to me. That meant more frustration for her, because we were a tightly-knit family that lived in a fairly small home and did everything together. She had no opportunity to try any of her plans - until my mom won a sweepstakes one spring that awarded an all- expense-paid trip for two to New York City. Vicci was sixteen then, and old enough to watch over me and the house while my folks took advantage of the prize during mid-July. I was just maturing enough to notice girls the way they're meant to be noticed, as I discovered the Saturday evening my folks left for New York. I was sitting in our living room watching TV when Vicci strolled into the doorway wearing a flimsy hip-length peasant blouse. That wasn't too unusual, because Vicci ran around the house a lot that way. What was unusual, though, is that this time the blouse was completely unbuttoned as she stood there with her waist-length brown hair casually draped over her left shoulder and her right hand resting lightly on the doorframe. The light from the setting sun was to her back, and transformed the peasant blouse into gossamer, haloing her figure and outlining in deep pastels every inch of her woman's body. "What're you watching, Matt?" she asked, in a voice far more husky than I had ever heard before. "Up to a second ago," I said, "I was looking at TV. All of a sudden, though, the sunset has my undivided attention." (I was a precocious little bastard, and it got me into a lot of trouble with teachers.) I don't remember much more of our conversation, but I remember in vivid detail every moment for the next hour or so. I remember noticing that Vicci was wearing a lacy white bra and bikini panties that I had never seen in the laundry. I remember Vicci sitting on the couch next to me, and I remember that she smelled good in the way she did before she went out on a date. I remember staring a lot at her as she talked to me, and letting my eyes drift to her ample cleavage. We looked into each other's eyes, and she gulped, and she opened her arms and pulled me to her. I could feel the firmness of her breasts on my chest - and I was aware that my cock had become fully erect. Vicci obviously noticed it, too, for she pulled back a moment, looked at me again, and then closed her eyes and moved in for my first full-fledged erotic kiss. As the warmth of the breath from her open mouth let me know there was more to a kiss than what an aunt produced, her right hand moved to my knee and she began stroking my thigh through my Levis. As Vicci's hand moved higher, I became even more aroused and my cock pushed through at the waist of my Levis under my T-shirt. Her fingertips found the base of my cock, and we both gasped as we kissed. Vicci's hand closed around my hard-on, and she began to slide it up the eighteen inches of solid muscle, letting her hand slip beneath my T- shirt as she moved upward. As her hand made contact with the bare skin of my penis, I could feel her body tense and her kissing become deeper and more frenzied, as though she needed all the air in my body. I could feel her tongue exploring deep in my mouth, and I responded instinctively. As she reached the head of my cock high on my chest, she shuddered and cried out, then pulled away to look at me with a newfound understanding and awareness of what her body had been requesting for so long. Vicci sat back and shrugged off the blouse, then guided my hands to her full breasts, all the while watching my eyes to see how I was responding. As I caressed her breasts through the brassiere, I could see her nipples hardening through the lace, and I could feel them press against my hands. Vicci moved my hands away for a moment, then reached for the center clasp between the cups. With a quick movement, she unsnapped the clasp and opened the bra, giving me my first look at live naked breasts. My whole body quivered with tension as I responded to the sight of her magnificent breasts, outlined with tan lines and punctuated with two small hard nipples thrusting out of rosy areoles like beacons. I started to move my hands toward her again, but she stopped me with a shy smile, then stood and rolled her panties down her hips, uncovering her thick brown thatch of pubic hair that spread neatly up to her belly. I could see that it had been carefully trimmed to match the tan lines from her bikini, and I pictured her lying on a towel at the beach while guys clustered around, hoping for a better view. I was getting that better view as she let her panties drop down her long golden legs. As Vicci stood erect, she looked down at me and playfully posed by running her hands through her hair and turning from side to side. When she slowly turned to show me her perfect ass, I could smell her perfume more strongly as her body heated with anticipation, and I could sense another, less familiar musk mingled with it. "Your turn, Matt," she teased as she reached for my T-shirt. Her breasts swayed with the movement, and I reacted as though she were trying to hypnotize me with them. I let her tug at my shirt for a moment before I reached down and pulled it up over my head. As my dick came into view, I could see Vicci's face flush and her eyes devour every inch of it. One of her hands unconsciously moved to her left breast and began to softly caress it; the other dropped to her pussy and her fingertips began a slow rhythmic up-and-down movement. "I want to see it all," she whispered in a husky voice nearly choked off with lust. "Take your pants off for me, Matt. Please take your pants off." That sounded like a great idea, if for no other reason than to relieve the pain from the thrust of my erection. I stood up, unclasped my belt, unzipped my pants and let them drop to the floor. As I stepped out of them and pulled off my socks, Vicci moved closer and hooked her fingers in the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down as she sank to her knees in front of me. I stepped free of them, and Vicci moved her fingers to cup my balls and cock as though she were handling a fragile and priceless artifact. She left her right hand clasped around my balls and began a slow stroking movement with her left hand up my shaft. The sound of my staccato breathing filled the room as she excited me to levels I had never even dreamed of before, and Vicci's sharp gasps punctuated the gaps. I was aware of colors and textures and the almost-overpowering scent rising from Vicci's body. As she teased and played and explored, I stared at her breasts and their glorious nipples, and at the tangle of hair covering her mound. My body was rigid as I reacted to the touch of her fingertips, and I began to feel an unfamiliar stirring within me. Vicci slowly stood, keeping her grasp on my groin, and moved against me, kissing me deeply and passionately as she picked up where we had left off. She pulled her hands away as though she had been forced to do it, then put her arms around me and pulled me tight against her body. Reaching down with her hands, she cupped both cheeks and pulled our hips as tightly together as my erect penis would allow. In each other's arms, we began a slow circling dance that kept us in contact while moving against each other. The pressure finally became too much for me to stand, so I stepped back slightly, reached down and moved my cock to a horizontal position. Vicci responded immediately by opening her legs and straddling my hard-on as though she were riding a horse. I could feel the heat pouring from her pussy as she straddled me, and the wetness that was building. We moved back together and continued our dance of desire as Vicci and I kissed in the way that new lovers have defined over the ages. I could feel Vicci spasm as we danced, and her breathing become more irregular. She slowed the dance to a standstill, then began stroking her pussy across my cock ever more quickly. The more quickly she moved, the harder she buried her face in my shoulder, biting and crying out in pleasure. "Matt, I'm coming on you," she gasped, "I'm coming all over your cock. Can you feel me?" I had felt her become wetter, but didn't have any reference point to compare it to. As she cried out louder and louder, I could feel her pouring wetness down my shaft, and I pulled her tighter to me. I could also feel my cock curling around behind her into the crack of her ass, and the sensation was almost more than I could stand. "What do we do now?" I asked as she quivered again and again. "I want you inside me. I want you deep inside me," Vicci whispered. "Come with me to my bedroom." I didn't want the sensation to stop while we walked to her bedroom, so I told Vicci to wrap her long legs around me and hold onto my neck. With my cock as a support, I carried her that way to the bedroom and rolled her back as gently as I could onto the bed. Vicci moved farther onto the bed and spread her legs, pulling her pussy open with her fingers as she did. "Put your cock in here, Matt. Slide the tip into me - but do it slowly. Thanks to daddy, I'm still a virgin." What could I do? What could I say? I stared at her pussy spread wide before me and felt a responding throbbing in my cock. I bent forward and knelt onto the bed, then moved between her legs. As I lowered myself to her, I kissed Vicci's breasts and sucked at the nipples. She gasped with delight at the sensation, but pulled at me urgently. Her hands moved between us, and she took a firm hold on my dick to guide it into her. As the tip of it touched the lips of her pussy, all of the tension seemed to rush from her body, and her hips rose to meet me. I slid forward to thrust into her, and Vicci recoiled slightly with a stifled sob as her hymen ruptured. I pulled back, thinking I had hurt her, but she pulled at me hungrily to continue. I felt her warm wetness envelop me, and the muscles in her vagina grasping at the intruder in their midst. She took me in for about four or five inches, then released and drew back. We began to develop our rhythm from her response, and I was able to reach deeper with each thrust until I hit her cervix about half way in. By this point, Vicci was crying out and shuddering with orgasms on nearly every movement. As I struck her cervix, she gave a great heaving convulsion and, through clenched teeth, inhaled an "Oh, Matt... " I continued to stroke, letting the pleasure build as her pussy stimulated the top half of my cock and her hands caressed the lower half and my balls. At some point, the head of my cock surged past her cervix into what felt like another vagina. The sensation overpowered me, and I began to erupt within her. She could feel the cum pulsing through my cock on its way to the inside of her body, and she could feel me exploding deep within her. I buried my face in her hair as I came, and she moved in rhythm with me as I spurted again and again and again. Vicci continued her rhythm as I ran out of air from the violence of the experience. As she moved, I first learned of the sensitivity a man experiences after orgasm, and I pulled free with a yowl of pain. I explained that she hadn't hurt me, that the pain was a good kind of pain, but that I needed a minute or two to calm down and catch my breath. As I gasped that out, Vicci watched my cock continue to twitch and spurt with the aftershock, then reached over with her fingers to touch my cum. Quite tentatively, she touched it to her tongue, then exclaimed, "Hey, this is salty - but I like it. And, look down here - your cum is leaking out of my pussy." She reached for a Kleenex to dry herself with one hand; with the other, she began to tease my cock again. We continued to experiment for the rest of the night. I found I was able to recover in about five to ten minutes, and that Vicci was nearly insatiable. Near dawn, we fell asleep in each other's arms and - appropriately enough - with my cock deep inside her pussy. When the phone rang about two hours later, we were able to quite honestly tell our parents that everything was going fine and that they could stop worrying and enjoy the rest of their week in New York. As it turned out, they did - and so did we.