Size Matters A Summer I'll Never Forget

If you'd told me two months ago that I'd spend the last summer after my first year of college completely obsessed with a guy's cock, I would have laughed in your face. Or, depending on how well we knew each other, gone bright red, changed the subject, and spent the next week overanalyzing what you meant by that. At nineteen, I wasn't the kind of girl who sat around thinking about dicks. Or so I thought.

My experience, such as it was, didn't give me much to go on. There was Chris, my first boyfriend, sweet, lanky, slightly less awkward than me, which was saying something. When we finally did it, after our first semester, I barely felt anything. He was so small. Then there was Danny, who kissed better but listened worse. He liked the idea of being with me a lot more than the reality of it. His dick was, to put it diplomatically, statistically insignificant  and he didn't do much with it either.

You know how people say size doesn't matter, that it's all about technique and chemistry? Complete lie. After two disappointing experiences, I officially joined Team Size Matters even if I'd die before admitting it out loud.

So when Ryan leaned against his car after our second date and I felt the outline of him pressing hard into my thigh, I had a small existential crisis. This was the kind of cock that cast a shadow under a streetlamp, even through his loose joggers. He was twenty a year older than me. I remember thinking: it's probably just the light. Then he shifted, I felt the weight of it, and suddenly I was wet and couldn't remember my own name for a solid five seconds.

A week later, I was standing in his kitchen, sweating in my new sundress, trying to act normal while he sliced strawberries for the sangria he'd promised to make. I watched his hands  big, slightly rough at the fingertips, and could think of nothing except how they'd felt sliding up my thigh at our last date. Or rather, what I'd felt pressing against me when I leaned into him, and how everything I'd suspected was not only confirmed but possibly underestimated. We hadn't gone further than kissing, which had frustrated me. I was hoping today would be different.

"So," he said, arranging the fruit in the pitcher like a Food Network host, "what are your plans for today, besides drinking in the middle of the afternoon and indulging my attempts at acting like a functioning adult?"

"Well… that's kind of it," I said. I tried to sound casual. My voice came out slightly too high. My body was already running hot, nipples hard, thighs damp, heart hammering like I'd mainlined cold brew.

Ryan turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, shirt pulling tight across his shoulders. His smile was unfair. "You sure? You look like you're plotting something."

God. Was I that obvious? "Maybe I'm just nervous you're going to poison me with your artisanal sangria."

He gave me a look. "I'm a seasoned professional. I watched two full YouTube videos." He slid the pitcher into the fridge and came to stand in front of me. "You're adorable when you're anxious, Em."

I rolled my eyes, but inside I'd completely melted. "You barely know me," I protested, which was technically true. We'd been out three times, all of them just charged enough physically to leave me unable to sleep afterward.

"True," he said. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips grazing my cheek. My knees nearly gave out. "But I'd like to."

I had nothing to say to that, so I just looked at him, fighting the urge to kiss him first. I'd never initiated anything with a guy. But something about Ryan made me want to be reckless in a way I hadn't even known I wanted.

He made the decision for me, thank God, leaning in and kissing me slowly and deeply, hands on my waist. It was perfect. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed into him, and there it was again, his cock, hard and heavy against me through his shorts. A sound escaped my throat, and he smiled into the kiss, hands tightening on my hips.

"Want to come to my room?" he murmured against my ear.

My whole body shivered. "Yes," I said, barely above a breath.

He took my hand and led me down the hallway. His parents were away for the weekend, I'd confirmed this three times that morning. He closed the door behind us and for a moment we just stood there, looking at each other. I felt like I was about to combust.

Then he pulled me in and kissed me again, walking me backward until the back of my knees hit the bed. A gentle push and I landed with a small bounce, legs out in front of me. He kicked off his shoes and climbed over me, hands planted on either side of my hips.

"God, you're pretty," he said, lips moving down my neck. His hands found my thighs, sliding up under the hem of my dress to grip bare skin. His fingers pressed in, just slightly, and that was enough to knock the breath out of me.

"So are you," I said, and he laughed.

His mouth moved up my neck to my jaw, then back to my lips, kissing me until I was dizzy. Then, without warning, his hand slid higher, fingers brushing lightly along the edge of my underwear. I moaned like I was in a film. Embarrassing and perfect. I was so wet I could feel it through the fabric.

He ran one finger along the seam, testing, then pressed gently. "God, Em. You're soaked."

I was dying of embarrassment but couldn't stop. "You, uh. You have that effect on me."

He pulled back and smiled, the kind of smile that meant trouble. "Yeah? What exactly does that to you?"

I went so red my ears got hot. "I don't know. You're just very…" I stopped, not wanting to come across as a size-obsessed weirdo, even though I still wasn't one hundred percent sure.

He raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Big," I blurted.

"How would you know?"

I went redder. "I think I felt it."

He made a low sound, somewhere between a chuckle and a growl. "Yeah? You like that?"

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh my God."

He pulled my hands away, still grinning. "You're not the first to notice." He leaned in. "But you might be my favourite."

I wanted to die, or possibly just crawl under him and never leave. He kissed me again, then started pulling my dress off. It got stuck around my shoulders and we both laughed trying to wrestle it over my head. When it finally came free, I was left in just my bra and underwear, cute, but not in the I planned this kind of way.

He looked me up and down, eyes darkening. "Damn, you're sexy."

I wanted to believe him, so I did. I let him unclasp my bra and slide my underwear off, and then I was naked on his bed, skin buzzing with anticipation.

He undressed quickly and easily. Broad chest, defined pecs, flat stomach, and below the waistband of his shorts, the outline of him was unmistakable. When he pushed them down, his cock sprang free, thick and long, curving up toward his stomach. My jaw dropped. It was bigger than I'd imagined. Genuinely, absurdly big. The head was wide, the shaft veined and flushed dark. My mouth actually watered.

He caught my reaction and smirked. "Still think you can handle it?"

The honest answer was I had absolutely no idea. "Only one way to find out."

He sat on the bed beside me, propped on one elbow. "Have you ever given a blowjob?" he asked, gentle, no judgment.

"Once," I admitted, thinking of Danny and the five excruciating minutes that had felt like forever. "It wasn't… particularly memorable."

He laughed. "No pressure. But if you want to…"

I nodded, equal parts nervous and desperate. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to wrap my lips around him and find out what it did to me.

He rolled onto his back and I positioned myself between his legs. Up close, it was even more intimidating, thick and pulsing, the head glistening. I wrapped my fingers around the base and could barely get halfway around. I licked the tip tentatively, tasting salt and skin, then again.

"Fuck, that's good," he groaned, his hand finding the back of my neck. He didn't push, just rested there, fingers gentle in my hair.

I opened my mouth and took the head inside, tongue circling the ridge. It stretched my lips wide, but I kept going, taking more, working my hand up and down what my mouth couldn't reach. I gagged once, slightly, and he immediately soothed me, telling me to slow down.

"That's it. Take your time, sweetheart."

His voice made my whole body tighten. I started moving my head up and down, letting my saliva coat him, then pulled off with a soft pop, catching my breath. "You're so big," I said, genuine wonder in my voice.

He smiled, not even trying to hide his pride. "You're doing so well."

I went back down, this time licking him from base to tip, then sucking the head again, moving my tongue in circles. I got bolder, wetter, more into it, and he started breathing harder, hips tilting up slightly.

"Fuck, Emma if you keep going I'm going to lose it," he said, voice strained.

I pulled back and looked up at him, lips tingling, cheeks flushed. "I want you to come inside me," I said, surprised by my own words. "Like, actually inside."

His pupils blew wide. "You sure?"

"Yes." I wanted everything his cock, the fullness, the stretch. I wanted to find out if I could take it.

He lifted me into his lap and kissed me hungrily, tasting himself on my lips. Then he flipped us, so I was underneath, legs open, his cock pressing against my thigh.

First he slid a finger inside me, reading me. "You're so wet, sweetheart," he murmured. "Ready?"

"Please," I said, louder than I meant to.

He positioned himself, the head pressing at my entrance. A wave of nerves hit me, what if I couldn't? What if he didn't fit? But then he pushed in, slow and careful, and the stretch was unlike anything I'd ever felt. I exhaled sharply, body tensing, then gradually loosening as he pressed deeper, inch by inch, until I was completely full.

"Oh my God," I whispered. "You're.... Jesus."

He went slowly at first, working just the tip, then gradually deeper, until his hips met mine and I felt him pressing against my cervix. The deep, pulsing fullness made my whole lower stomach feel warm and heavy.

I moaned.. loudly, shamelessly, nails digging into his back. "You're so big… I can feel you everywhere."

He started moving faster, long deep strokes that made my breasts bounce and my breath catch. The wet, obscene sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of me filled the room, a steady rhythm mixing with my desperate moans and his low grunts. Every time he bottomed out, a jolt of pleasure shot through me, building hotter with each thrust.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper. The new angle had him rubbing my G-spot with every stroke. My clit was throbbing, my pussy clenching around him, the pressure inside building like a spring about to snap.

"Harder, Ryan… please," I begged, voice shaking. "I want all of it."

He groaned and fucked me harder, hips snapping against me, driving himself as deep as he could go. The headboard knocked against the wall. My wetness was running down my thighs with every thrust. I felt so full, so stretched, so completely overwhelmed. The pleasure started somewhere deep and radiated outward, making my thighs shake and my vision blur.

"I'm going to come," I gasped, barely able to form words. "Don't stop! I'm so close!"

And then it hit me. My whole body locked up. My pussy clamped down around him, pulsing and fluttering. Waves of intense pleasure crashed through me, starting deep inside and exploding outward. Toes curling, back arching off the bed, I cried out his name as the orgasm rolled through me. Deep, rhythmic contractions milking him, mixed with sharp electric sparks that made my legs shake uncontrollably. I had never come like that in my life. The waves kept coming, longer and more intense than anything I'd felt before, all because he was so deep and so thick.

"Fuck, Emma… I'm going to come," Ryan groaned, voice tight.

With a deep, guttural sound, he drove all the way in and came hard. I felt every pulse as thick, hot spurts of cum erupted deep inside me, flooding me. He kept thrusting through it, cock pumping, grinding into me, wringing out every last wave. Feeling him come inside me like that, so much of it, so deep, tipped me over into a second smaller orgasm. I could feel it leaking around him, warm and slick, as he kept moving, claiming every last inch of me.

We stayed pressed together, breathless, his cock still buried deep while the last of it pulsed through him. I felt so full. So thoroughly taken care of.

Ryan kissed me softly, forehead against mine. "You okay?" he whispered.

I smiled, dazed and glowing. "I think you just ruined me for everyone else."

He laughed quietly and kissed me again, still inside me. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

He eventually pulled out, grabbed a towel and cleaned me up gently, then collapsed beside me and pulled me into his arms.

"You're incredible," he murmured into my hair.

I buried my face in his chest, floating in the afterglow. I couldn't believe I'd spent so long pretending size didn't matter, when all I'd apparently wanted was to be completely undone by someone like Ryan.

I knew right then that I'd be spending the rest of the summer with him. Or more specifically... under him. And I absolutely could not wait.