The Exchange Student Who Left Me Exhausted

I’ve received several messages asking when I was going to tell another story, and the truth is, I hadn’t had anything worth writing about for a while. For months I’d only been fucking my partner, and I have an incredible time with him, but he had to go work in another city for three weeks, and this pussy doesn’t understand the meaning of taking a break. Whenever I go out with friends, there’s never any shortage of some idiot coming over to hit on me, but none of them had ever really soaked my panties. Until that afternoon.

I’m writing this because it had already been two weeks without a single cock inside me, and two weeks is too long for a woman like me. One of my routines is stopping by the private university where my boyfriend’s sister teaches. I pick her up a couple of times a week, and we take advantage of it to go out for a drink. It’s a campus full of wealthy people, packed with exchange students from other countries, and with so many new faces, it’s hard not to notice some tight ass or a bulge outlined beneath a pair of pants.

That time I saw him alone, sitting on a concrete bench, wearing blue jeans and a light-colored shirt. He would stand up, sit back down, and check his watch. He looked like he was waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. I was about thirty feet away, pretending to check my phone, but my slut radar had already switched on.

I’ll confess it without shame: when he adjusted his crotch with his hand, he didn’t do it from the front like anyone else would, but from the left side, as if he were trying to hide a cock that didn’t fit inside his pants. And boy, was the bulge obvious. My pussy suddenly grew wet, stirred by an old curiosity, one I already knew from other times: wanting to know how big the package that bastard was hiding really was.

I approached him with the dumbest excuse in the world: asking where a certain office was and whether he knew what time it closed. He turned out to be very attentive, shy but friendly, and after five minutes of conversation I already had his phone number saved. I said goodbye, picked up my sister-in-law, and went on with my day as if nothing had happened, even though my panties were already soaked.

***

That night I texted him. His name was Malik, the son of a Senegalese father and a Canadian mother, and he lived alone most of the time in a gated community while his parents visited him on weekends. I’m going to skip most of the conversation, because it took me three days to convince the idiot that yes, I wanted his cock. He was the kind of guy who couldn’t believe something like that was happening to him.

The turning point came when he asked me for a picture. I sent him one in a swimsuit, standing beside a river, and he replied that he’d been expecting something more casual.

—You didn’t like it? —I wrote, biting my lip and slipping my hand inside my pants.

—Yes, of course I did. You’re very pretty —he replied—. Too pretty, I’d say.

That word, too, gave me the confidence I needed. I sent him another one, this time with my tits out and my hand barely covering my nipples, and I noticed the change in his messages, the way he started replying faster. I challenged him: a picture of his cock in exchange for another picture of me showing him my pussy. He agreed, and when the image arrived, I confirmed that my instincts hadn’t deceived me. It was enormous, dark, thick as my wrist, with a pronounced curve to the left and a swollen purple glans gleaming with a drop of fluid at the tip. I immediately asked him how long that beast was.

—About twenty-seven centimeters, more or less —he wrote, as if apologizing.

My mouth watered, and I felt a throb between my legs that made me squeeze my thighs together.

—And what do you do with a cock like that? —I asked him, already rubbing my clitoris through my panties—. You must put it to good use. You must split pussies open with that thing.

—Honestly, I don’t —he admitted—. I tried once, but the girl got scared and we couldn’t do it. She said it hurt her, that she couldn’t even get the head in.

Almost a virgin, with that monstrous cock between his legs and not a single bitch who knew how to swallow it whole. The idea turned me on more than the picture itself. I imagined myself kneeling in front of him, with that cock in my mouth until I choked.

—We ought to put it to use, don’t you think? —I typed, already with two fingers inside my pussy—. Would you like me to try it? I know how to take a cock like that, baby.

—Are you serious? I’m embarrassed, but yes… yes, I’d like that.

I asked his age, out of habit and prudence. He was twenty-four, studying in an exchange graduate program, and had moved from city to city so many times that he’d lost count. We talked a little longer and made plans for the next day, after his classes, at two o’clock, outside the gated community. There was no way we were meeting on campus: the last thing I wanted was for my sister-in-law to see me putting a Black student with a gigantic cock into my car.

***

I got ready properly. A long bath, shaving my pussy until I left it smooth as a little girl’s —sorry for the comparison, but that’s how it turns out—, transparent pink underwear, flesh-colored stockings with a garter belt, a tight black skirt, and a white blouse with no bra underneath so my nipples would show. I didn’t go in with high expectations; I figured that with how inexperienced he was, he’d come after two sucks and the adventure would be over. But something in my pussy told me I was wrong.

I arrived, and there he was, punctual and serious. He got into the car, and we drove to his house. He offered me something to drink from the refrigerator, with the charming awkwardness of someone who didn’t know what to do with his hands. I understood immediately why he hadn’t had any luck: he was handsome in his own way, tall, with a fit body, broad shoulders, and enormous hands that I could already imagine spreading my ass cheeks, but shyness paralyzed him. If this was going to happen, I would have to take the lead.

—Come here, Malik —I said, turning slowly so he could see my ass beneath my skirt—. Do you like how I look?

His eyes traveled over me from head to toe. He swallowed, and I noticed the bulge beginning to show against his thigh.

—You look like the women in the videos —he blurted out, turning red.

—What videos? —I laughed—. Don’t tell me you spend all your time jerking off to porn, you bastard.

—Well… yeah, some —he confessed, staring at his feet.

—Then I hope you know the poses, because today you’re going to do them all to me —I told him, moving close enough to brush his cock with my hip.

I told him just to watch and slowly took off my blouse. My tits sprang free, my nipples already hard as rocks. When I told him to touch them, not to be afraid, he lunged at them as if he’d been holding himself back for years. He squeezed one in each hand, buried his fingers in the flesh, and started sucking my nipples with a hunger I hadn’t expected from someone so quiet. He bit, licked, and tugged with his teeth.

—Easy, Daddy —I whispered—. They’re not going anywhere. We have all afternoon.

I lowered my hand to the zipper of his pants and rubbed his bulge through the fabric. It was hot and throbbing, and its full outline was already visible against the denim. I pulled his pants and boxers down in one motion. When I freed that cock, it sprang out, half erect, and still smacked against my forearm with a solid thud. That piece of flesh I’d already seen in the picture was even more imposing up close. I took it in both hands —because one hand wasn’t enough to wrap around it— and looked it over, measuring it with my palm, feeling it pulse against my skin.

—Do you like it? —he asked, almost breathless.

—I love this cock, Malik. It’s a monster —I replied, and I meant it.

I knelt in front of him and licked his balls first, two thick black orbs that filled my mouth. I ran my tongue along the entire length of his shaft, from the base to the tip, savoring the salty skin. I kissed the glans, licked it in circles, and when I felt it give, I took it into my mouth. Still only half hard, that was the only way I could take in a good portion of it. Because of the curve, it wasn’t easy, so I moved back and forth patiently, my mouth open as wide as possible, my jaw tense, helping myself with both hands as I squeezed the base and caressed his balls.

—Holy fuck… —he gasped, grabbing my hair—. Nobody’s ever done that to me.

When it finished hardening, the cock became monumental, its veins standing out, hard as iron. I pulled it from my mouth and let it tap gently against my cheek, my tongue, my lips. I drooled all over it, spat on the glans, and put it back in my mouth as far as it would go, which wasn’t even halfway. His eyes rolled back. I didn’t want to continue for too long: the last thing I wanted was for that bastard to come before I got his cock inside my pussy.

***

I climbed onto a low kitchen counter, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and tore off my pink panties. I spread my legs and showed him my pussy, shiny, swollen, already dripping onto the wood. He came closer and, without needing to be asked twice, buried his face between my thighs. His tongue was broad and slightly rough, and when he found my clitoris, he made me arch against the counter as if I’d been electrocuted.

—That’s it, baby, keep sucking me there —I told him, holding the back of his neck and grinding my pussy against his mouth—. Eat me whole.

—Do you like it? I saw it in the videos —he murmured against my lips, proud of himself.

He spread my pussy with his fingers and ate it as if he’d been hungry for days, alternating his tongue with two thick fingers that plunged in and out, squelching because I was so wet. He licked my clitoris with quick little strokes, then sucked it whole, drawing on it and making me see stars. Within minutes he ripped my first orgasm of the afternoon from me, one that made me squeeze his head between my thighs until I nearly suffocated him, while I came in streams against his mouth and he swallowed without complaint.

—Oh God, you suck so good, you bastard —I panted when I could speak.

He gave me no respite. He asked me to spread my legs wider, rested one on his shoulder, gripped his cock at the base, and, with more care than I’d expected from someone so eager, began to push it inside. First he ran the glans over my pussy lips, rubbing it against me and coating himself in my juices. When he finally pushed, I felt the head split me open as if a fist were being shoved inside.

—Slowly, Daddy, slowly —I begged, biting my lip—. Put it in little by little.

He did it slowly, with awkward but accurate movements, reading my face to know how far he could go. I felt my pussy stretching, giving way inch by inch until it accommodated that impossible curve scraping its way inside me. When I finally had him all the way in, his balls slapping against my ass, I let out a scream that bounced off the walls of the house.

—You squeeze so good. I can feel everything pulsing. Your whole body is shaking —he said, amazed.

—Fuck me, Malik. Fuck me hard. Give me that whole cock —was all I could answer.

He started pumping, slowly at first, then harder and harder. His curve brushed a spot deep inside my pussy that few men had ever found, and every thrust struck it again. He drove his cock all the way in, pulled almost completely out and left me empty, then buried it in me with one thrust that made me scream. He made me come twice more before I could catch my breath, the second time in streams that soaked his balls and the kitchen counter. I asked whether he was close, certain an inexperienced boy couldn’t last that long.

—No —he replied, almost surprised himself—. I don’t feel like I’m going to come yet.

***

What came next was a cock marathon unlike anything I’d ever experienced with one person. I’m multiorgasmic, and my record in one session was nineteen. That afternoon I surpassed it without realizing.

We fucked from behind, with me braced against the counter and one leg raised on the breakfast bar, his hand around my belly while the other squeezed one of my tits. He fucked me from behind, his cock curved upward and hitting my G-spot with every thrust. We fucked on the couch, where I sat on him with my back to him, legs spread, taking my time to get used to it before setting the pace myself, rising and falling on that cock like a madwoman, feeling it sink into my guts. He moaned softly, holding back sounds as if he were struggling to endure the tightness of my pussy, but he held on. As I moved, I rubbed my clitoris with my fingers, multiplying a delicious torture that made me lose track of my own words.

—Don’t stop, bastard, don’t stop —I begged—. You’re splitting my pussy open, but don’t stop.

—You fuck yourself so good, baby. Come on, take all of it —he answered, panting.

Every time I thought he was going to come, he told me no, that he could still hold out, and went right back at it. He put me on all fours on the rug, my ass sticking up, and buried it in me from behind while he spanked me, the slaps echoing throughout the room. He grabbed my hair as if it were reins, drove his cock all the way in, and all I could do was drool onto the floor, repeating more, more, more. At one point I stopped counting. I had a series of orgasms one after another, my vision clouding, babbling nonsense, my pussy convulsing on its own around that cock. He held me up when my legs gave out, grabbed me by the hair, lifted me in his arms, and drove me against his body while I wrapped my legs around him and felt his cock pounding in and out.

—Look at you coming, you delicious slut —he said—, dripping all over my cock just like in the videos.

—And what are you going to do? —I panted, mouth open and drool running down my chin.

—Make you come more, until you can’t walk.

And he did. At some point, amid all the trembling, I lost complete control of my body. During one of the few moments when I was lucid, I asked him not to panic if I seemed absent, but to keep fucking me without stopping. And he did. Later he told me that I only babbled with my eyes unfocused and my tongue hanging out, coming over and over on his cock before returning to reality. Without exaggeration, it was the most intense fucking a single man has ever given me.

***

When I thought I had no pussy left, we rested for fifteen minutes. I licked his cock from top to bottom while we recovered, savoring the mixture of our juices and sucking his swollen balls. Then, emboldened, he suggested another position, and another, and one more. He put me facedown on the couch and fucked me with my own weight pressing me into the cushion. He sat me on the edge of the dining table and fucked me while I dug my nails into his back.

We finished in the shower, water falling around us, my back against the tiles, his enormous arms holding me by the ass so I wouldn’t slip. He held me in the air, impaled on his cock, raising and lowering me on it as if I weighed nothing. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the bathroom, along with the squelching of my soaked pussy, and I wasn’t even trying to hold back my screams anymore.

—You drive me crazy. I can’t stop fucking you —he said in my ear, biting my earlobe—. You squeeze so good. Your pussy swallows me whole.

—That’s what I want, Daddy —I replied—. Don’t stop. Come inside me. Fill me all the way.

He held out until the end, much longer than anyone else could have. I felt his whole body tense, his cock beginning to throb harder inside me, his balls pressed hard against my ass. When he finally came, he did it with a surrender that left me speechless: he let out a hoarse roar, dug his fingers into my buttocks, and filled my pussy with hot spurts, one after another, so many that I felt them running down my thighs even with his cock still inside me. I was left exhausted and wrecked, counting a number in my head that no longer made sense. Twenty-one times. Twenty-one.

I fell asleep in his bed, semen still dripping between my legs, without even the strength to get dressed. I woke a couple of hours later when I felt his hands caressing my back and hair, and when I opened my eyes, he was looking at me like someone who still couldn’t believe his luck. He wanted more. I was exhausted and, at the same time, unable to refuse, so I gave in to one last slow, almost tender encounter. He penetrated me from the side, very slowly, kissing my neck and moving his hips with a calmness that made me cry with pleasure. This time we came together, looking at each other, unlike the fury of the hours before.

***

I repeated it the next day, and again two days later. Every time was brutal, every time I ended up with my pussy wrecked, my legs trembling, and my panties soaked with semen. It was a shame my boyfriend came back early, because I had to put the adventure on hold. For now I’m keeping it here, in these lines, without knowing whether I’ll look for Malik again or let the memory do its work on the nights when this pussy starts begging for cock again.

Maybe I’ll look for him. Maybe I won’t. But if I learned anything that afternoon, it’s that shyness says nothing about what a man can give when someone takes the trouble to teach him how to use the cock he has. Greetings, and until the next confession.